How It All Began

My triathlon journey started back in 2012, sparked by a powerful video I stumbled upon of Dick and Rick Hoyt—the legendary Team Hoyt. Watching a father pull his son in a boat during the swim, carry him on a modified bike, and push him in a wheelchair through an Ironman marathon left a lasting mark on me. It wasn’t just about endurance—it was about love, perseverance, and the strength of the human spirit.

What struck me most was how much of life mirrored that race: the struggles, the doubts, the moments you just want to stop—but keep going anyway because something greater pushes you forward. That story became a mirror for my own journey. I’ve always believed that challenges aren’t meant to break us—they’re meant to shape us. Every obstacle is a test of mindset, not just muscle.

When I took up triathlon, it wasn’t simply for the sport. It was a conversation between my mind and body, a way to explore resilience and redefine what’s possible. The long training hours, the pain, the discipline—it all speaks to me on a deeper level. Each swim stroke, pedal, and step reminds me that progress is rarely easy, but always worth it. Triathlon taught me that no matter how tough the road gets, there’s always another gear, another breath, another reason to keep moving forward.

I remember thinking, if they can do this, I can do anything. That simple thought stayed with me and became a quiet voice I would return to again and again throughout my life.

My time in the army—especially as a paratrooper—was where I first learned what it truly meant to be pushed to the limit. Jumping out of planes at night, carrying heavy packs through endless marches, and training in the harshest conditions taught me the power of discipline, teamwork, and mental fortitude. There were moments of fear, fatigue, and even doubt—but each time, I discovered that the human spirit can endure far more than we think. Those experiences didn’t just build physical strength; they forged an inner resilience that became the foundation of how I approached every challenge thereafter.

Watching triathletes race across distances that seemed impossible reminded me of the same grit and mental toughness I once relied on in uniform. I told myself, if they can do this, I can too.

Training for my first triathlon rekindled that familiar feeling of discipline and drive—early mornings, long runs, endless laps in the pool, and the quiet focus of cycling through heat and rain. It became more than a sport; it became a way of life, a continuation of the mindset that began in the army. Each finish line reminded me that growth only happens when we lean into discomfort, when we choose to test ourselves, and when we refuse to quit.

In many ways, triathlon didn’t just test my endurance—it reconnected me to who I was. The paratrooper who once stood at the edge of an open door thousands of feet above the ground is the same person who now stands at the start line of every race—calm, focused, ready to leap.

Over the years, I’ve completed three full Ironman races, five 70.3 events, countless shorter-distance triathlons, and even one ultramarathon. Every finish line has been a reminder that strength isn’t about how fast you go—it’s about how far you’re willing to believe in yourself.

Turning Passion into Purpose

I’ve always believed that while we’re here, we should try to make someone’s life a little better. I sponsor four children through World Vision, but over time, I discovered that I could use my sport as a platform to raise both awareness and funds for meaningful causes.

Through the years, I’ve taken part in multiple fundraising endurance events, such as:

• Run for Hope (12-hour ultrarun) – completed twice to support cancer research.
• VEveresting Challenge – cycling repeatedly for 17 hours until I climbed the height of Mount Everest, raising over S$10,000 for the Breast Cancer Foundation and Alzheimer’s Disease Association Singapore.
• Ride for Food – a 24-hour cycling challenge to support local food charities and many more.