Last night’s swim session was one of those moments when everything aligned. I had finished work at 5 p.m., had an early dinner—something I’ve learned the hard way not to skip—and headed to the pool with energy to spare. For a long time, I used to train after work on an empty stomach, simply pushing through the fatigue. But it never felt productive. Sure, I could complete the session, but I was dragging myself through it.
This time was different. I had fuel. I had presence. I had energy. It’s amazing how small adjustments like eating earlier can make a big difference in performance and enjoyment.
The morning that followed, however, told a different story.
Sprint session day.
It was hard to breathe—not just physically but mentally, too. There were eight intervals to push through, and by the fourth round, my inner voice started whispering, “This is too hard. Maybe stop now. Maybe you’ve done enough.”
But I’ve danced with that voice many times before.
I knew this moment would come, and I also knew I would not stop. I didn’t stop.
Even though my pace wasn’t what I hoped for, I finished. I showed up. I kept going. And honestly? I’m really proud of that. Because more than results, what matters is the discipline—the consistency—the inner grit that says, “I’ve got this.”
And it’s not just about training. This pattern repeats across life: when I set a goal, I move toward it. Even when the odds are against me.
Lessons from the Track: Keep Going, Even When It’s Hard
This mindset—of continuing even when it’s hard—has guided me for as long as I can remember.
When I was younger, my family couldn’t afford to send me abroad for school. I found out about full scholarships and told myself, “That’s the path.” I didn’t get it the first time. Or the second. Or the third. But eventually, I did. Because I refused to give up.
I often think about that journey when I’m mid-run, legs burning, lungs gasping. That voice of doubt? I’ve heard it before. And I know how to answer it now.
Just keep going.
That’s the key to anything in life. Not talent. Not perfect timing. Just showing up and pushing through.
Why I Train So Hard: It’s More Than Just Fitness
People sometimes ask me, “Why do you train so hard every day? Doesn’t it hurt?”
Yes, it hurts. But it’s the good kind of pain.
It’s controlled suffering. Chosen hardship. It’s what psychologists call eustress—positive stress that helps us grow, adapt, and improve.
Training gives me dopamine and serotonin—those feel-good chemicals. But more importantly, it gives me resilience. It’s a kind of emotional armor. When I’ve willingly endured hard things in the pool, on the bike, or during a long run, life’s surprises don’t shake me as easily.
So much of life is out of our control. But how I respond—that’s mine.
A Book That Changed My Life: Man’s Search for Meaning
One of the books that deeply shaped the way I think about suffering and purpose is Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl. I first heard about it through Tom Bilyeu’s podcast Impact Theory back in 2018. At the time, I was going through a painful breakup and looking for a way to process all the emotional weight.
The book arrived at the perfect time.
In it, Frankl—a psychiatrist and Holocaust survivor—writes about his time in Nazi concentration camps and how even in the most extreme conditions, people could find meaning. What struck me most is this: we cannot avoid suffering, but we can choose how to cope with it. We can choose to suffer with purpose.
That message stayed with me. I’ve read the book many times since, and each time, I find something new.
Frankl’s concept of logotherapy—that our primary drive in life is not pleasure, but meaning—continues to inspire me every day. It’s why I wake up early to train. Why I stretch after every workout. Why I push myself during sprints. Why I reflect.
Because there’s meaning in effort.
Suffering Can Be a Gift—If You Choose It
There’s something strangely beautiful about self-chosen suffering. When I train hard, I know I’m creating pain on purpose—but it’s not destructive. It’s constructive.
And that changes everything.
Instead of seeing suffering as something to avoid, I see it as something to shape. I can choose to suffer on my terms, in ways that strengthen me rather than break me. Whether it’s pushing through sprint intervals or navigating the emotional terrain of a challenging season in life, I always come back to this truth:
We can’t always control what happens to us, but we can always choose how to respond.
And in that choice, there’s power.
Creating Meaning Through Sunny Valley
This pursuit of meaning is one reason why I created Sunny Valley.
Over the years, many friends, mentors, and even strangers have told me, “You should share your story. You have a message.” It wasn’t just about documenting my triathlon training or my reflections. It was about creating a space—an energy—that uplifts and inspires.
Sunny Valley is my small contribution to a more positive world.
It’s a home for stories about resilience, reflections on books, mental health, discipline, and the beauty of trying—even when it’s hard. It’s a digital space to remind people (and myself) that we’re not alone. That meaning exists. That the small steps matter.
The Illusion of Conventional Success
I’ve also spent time thinking about success—especially the kind of success we see in headlines.
Fame. Wealth. Followers.
And yet, so often, we hear stories of successful people who are deeply unhappy. Some even end their lives, leaving the rest of us wondering, How could someone who had everything feel like they had nothing?
Frankl’s book helped me understand this too. Many of us chase things—money, status, validation—believing they’ll bring happiness. And when they don’t, we feel empty. But true fulfillment doesn’t come from having. It comes from being—being aligned with what matters, being in motion toward something meaningful.
That’s what I try to practice every day. And that’s what I hope Sunny Valley can help others realize too.
Today’s Plan: Reflect, Recover, Prepare
As I write this reflection, I feel energized.
I’ll take a long walk after this, followed by a session with my physiotherapist—my body’s weekly reset button. Even though I stretch every day after training, there’s no substitute for a good physio session. It helps me release built-up tension and stay injury-free.
Tomorrow, I have a meeting with Kien and Dex — our first content strategy session for Sunny Valley. I’m genuinely excited. We’re at the beginning of something that feels important, not just for me, but for others too.
And then this weekend? More training. More sweat. More growth.
Make Meaning. Every Day.
Training has taught me that discomfort is part of the process. That growth lives just beyond the edge of what’s comfortable. That meaning isn’t something you stumble upon—it’s something you create, moment by moment, choice by choice.
Whether it’s sprinting at sunrise or writing these words before bed, I’m reminded daily: this life is precious. And in its challenges, there are gifts.
If you’re struggling, keep going. If you’re tired, rest—but don’t quit. If you’re lost, seek meaning, not perfection.
That’s what Viktor Frankl taught me.
That’s what every run reaffirms.
And that’s what I hope Sunny Valley can be: a quiet reminder that meaning is always within reach—sometimes hiding in a book, a breath, or a step forward into the next great unknown.
