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When you say a big goal out loud, it sticks. “You’re the Everest guy now.” It’s meant well. Sometimes it’s even motivating. But I’ve been thinking about the difference between what you’re chasing and who you are. Everest is something I’m attempting.It isn’t my identity. That line matters more than I expected. Outcomes Aren’t Fully Yours You can train properly.Prepare well.Make disciplined decisions for months. And still not summit. Weather changes. Conditions shift. Sometime

January felt different from the start. For a long time, Everest sat comfortably in the future. Something I was preparing for, but with enough distance that it didn’t quite feel real. January changed that. Somewhere between the calendar flipping and a few practical decisions landing, it became clear that this isn’t next year anymore — it’s this year. And in reality, it’s only a few months away. That shift has brought a different energy with it. Making It Real One of the bigges

**Note: Photo from the recent trip to Milan for the winter olympics and nothing related to my goals (....yet) Not Everything Deserves the Same Reaction Since committing properly to Everest, I’ve noticed a change in how I react to short-term problems. Not because they’ve disappeared — if anything, there are more of them — but because they don’t carry the same weight they used to. Training doesn’t always land. Work weeks don’t always look clean. Travel disrupts routine. Energy

Ambition is often talked about as a positive — something to admire, encourage, and reward. And I agree with that. Wanting more from yourself, setting big goals, and committing to them is a good thing. What’s talked about less is the cost that comes with it. Not in a dramatic sense. Not in a “look how busy I am” way. Preparing for Everest while continuing to build my career has made those trade-offs more visible than ever. The Cost Isn’t Always Obvious The cost of ambition ra

Control Preparation for Everest is built on control. Training plans mapped weeks in advance. Sessions repeated until they become routine. Equipment choices refined, tested, adjusted. Even small details start to matter more when the margins are thin. These are the parts I can influence. The consistency of showing up. The discipline to train when it would be easier not to. The decisions that quietly stack the odds in my favour long before the mountain ever gets involved. Work o

Discomfort shows up regularly in this process. Cold mornings. Heavy legs. Doubt. The quieter moments where you ask whether you’re doing the right thing or just making life harder than it needs to be. For a long time, discomfort was seen as something to eliminate. Lately, that's starting to change. What the Mountains Teach You In endurance sport and mountaineering, discomfort is unavoidable. If you spend your energy trying to avoid it, you won’t last very long. Training doesn

As the year comes to a close, I’ve been spending some time reflecting on what the last twelve months have really looked like — not just the milestones, but the day-to-day reality behind them. Balancing a career alongside preparing for Everest has been one of the most stretching periods of my life so far. Not because either is unmanageable on its own, but because doing both properly forces you to be honest about whats possible. Time, energy, focus — you feel the trade-offs qui

December brought a different kind of focus. It included my last work trip of the year , alongside the usual Christmas travel and commitments that have a habit of pulling you away from any kind of routine. Training still happened, but it required more flexibility and less expectation that things would look perfect week to week. One of the most positive developments this month was confirming ISPCC as the charity partner  for the Everest climb. That felt important. Being able to

November was a quieter month in terms of training, but not in terms of everything else going on around it. Work travel featured heavily, with two separate trips that made routine harder to hold onto. That’s always the challenge when you’re trying to balance preparation alongside a full-time role — you adapt where you can, and accept that some weeks look different to others. One decision I was glad I made this month was taking a full rest week , which happened to coincide with

Motivation feels great when it’s there. It gives you a lift. It makes the early starts and long days feel exciting. But it also disappears the moment life gets busy, you’re tired, or something knocks your routine off track -especially when work is busy, you’re travelling, or you’re tired. What actually keeps things moving is consistency. Not the dramatic kind. Just the boring, steady kind — doing what you said you’d do, even when the feeling isn’t there. Especially when the

Failure isn’t something anyone plans for — but if you keep pushing your limits, it’s something you’ll eventually meet. This year alone, I’ve had two big ones: not summiting Denali , and being airlifted out of a race I’d trained hard for. Neither were easy to accept. We spend a lot of time trying to avoid failure — and rightly so. You have to strive for excellence. You have to aim high. But no matter how much you prepare, there will always be moments when things don’t go your

If there’s one thing that has been a constant, from endurance events to mountaineering, down to my own career, it’s the basics done well over and over again are what deliver results! Whether it’s the Everest training or finalising a deck, progress rarely ever came from making things more complex. It came from doing the small things right — show up, execute and repeat again the following day (and the day after that).   Reverting back to ‘Type’ In the outdoors, when everything

For a long time, I kept my worlds separate. There was “work Eanna” — the professional version — and then there was “real Eanna” — the one training for ultramarathons, chasing summits, and trying to find peace in the mountains. Somewhere along the way, I convinced myself they couldn’t coexist. Work was serious, structured, and strategic. The outdoors was wild, personal, and a bit chaotic. I thought bringing the two together would somehow make me look less focused or less profe

If month one was about building the foundation, month two has been about finding rhythm  — learning to balance training, travel, work, and the ever-growing world of social media that now sits alongside it all. After recovering from my DNF, I finally got back into training properly after nearly two weeks off. It’s amazing how quickly your body remembers what to do once your mind gets back in the right place. The legs might have felt heavy to start, but the discipline is return

For a long time I boxed my «outdoor self» off from my work self. The early career me thought those two worlds didn’t belong in the same room. I was wrong. Training for the Marathon des Sables, running 40-hour ultras, and learning to live with the small, exacting routines that big expeditions demand taught me something simple and, frankly, obvious: the behaviours that get you through the hard miles are the same behaviours that help you lead well. The below are some of the item

It’s been just over a month since I announced my plan to climb Mount Everest, and already it feels like the journey has begun long before I ever set foot on the mountain. September was about building the foundation  — getting the website live, launching funding, and beginning to share the story publicly. It’s been surreal to see the response, especially one of my first TikToks reaching around 50,000 views and counting. That reach isn’t just about numbers; it’s about connectio