The story of someone who decided to move — and never stopped.
From the moment we arrive in this world, we move.
In the womb. At birth. With our first steps. With our first stumbles.
And most of the time, we don’t do it alone.
I remember the voices cheering me on, the hands reaching out, the energy of someone
there to motivate me. Maybe it was family. Maybe a teacher. But most of all, it was the
freedom they gave me to move, to explore what I liked.
I tried every sport I could, even before I truly understood them. Some made me come
alive. Others, not so much. But in all of them, I left a piece of myself.
Over time, coaches became pivotal figures. They weren’t just instructors — they were
motivators, guides, believers in the impossible. From them, I learned something
priceless: how to push others without crushing them. How to believe, even when the
scoreboard doesn’t.
The joys were intense — running, sweating, celebrating.
But so were the frustrations — injuries, bench time, dreams that felt out of reach.
That dream of becoming a pro athlete… sometimes it doesn’t happen. But that doesn’t
mean you quit the game. You just change your role.
I realized I didn’t have to be on the podium to stay in the game.
I could coach. I could manage.
I could be the one helping others rise.
I studied. A lot. Physical education, sports management, marketing.
I worked even more. Led teams, taught classes, built projects, and learned from the
ground up.
I never stopped.
I couldn’t tell you when I ate or slept — but I always knew what I was chasing.
My students became my teachers.
With them, I learned that leadership is service. That respect isn’t demanded — it’s
earned, day by day, with consistency, presence, and truth.
The first time I coordinated a team, I was the youngest in the room.
Becoming a leader among peers wasn’t easy. But time, humility, and consistency made
it right.
Sometimes, those same peers come back years later to say: “Now I get it.”
Eventually, I learned that the backstage is also a playing field.
That being disruptive isn’t a pose — it’s a decision.
And that building long-term culture means more than winning a single game.
Then came the ventures. Some had backing. Others had nothing but me.
Not all of them worked. But every one of them taught me something.
Today, in a world driven by tech, governments, brands, and trends pushing fitness to
new frontiers, I still believe in the same thing: people.
The doers. The teachers. The ones who fall and rise again.
Because this isn’t just about fitness.
It’s about purpose.
It’s about spreading the desire to grow.
If I could speak to my younger self, I’d say:
“We’re doing it. We’re almost there. Thanks for not giving up.”
And if I could say something to you, the one reading this:
Yes, you can. If I made it here, so can you.
I don’t know if this text will be read by one person or a million.
But I’m here. Doing what I always dreamed of: helping build a new era.
With my mind. With my ideas. With my soul.
Because this is just the beginning.
�� “Written by someone who never stopped moving.”