It all started with black coffee and sugar in a coke bottle with a cork and raffia strings. Growing up in a Southeast Asian village slum that was famous for its prostitution, drugs and gangsterism was what I knew to be normal.

Squatting toilets with a bucket of water for “flushing”, learning to de-feather and prep a chicken for dinner at the age of five and fanning the charcoal stove until the embers are ready for cooking was as normal a daily chore as picking up a triple shot flat white on the way to work is today. We had access to fresh milk, but unfortunately due to the tropical climate and lack of refrigeration, big expensive 1.5 kg tins of milk powder were the only alternative.

Shadows of slothful attitudes were never seen in my childhood, as everyone worked hard, some with three jobs to make ends meet. My grandmother, who picked up odd jobs, used to pop me on the back of her bicycle and cycled about 12 km to drop me at school with my bottle of sugared black coffee, whilst other kids arrived in their nice little, flash, bright green Datsun 120Ys with their cooked lunch, whilst I clutched on to my 20 cents lunch money like it was my last lifeline.

There was one particular boy who used to arrive in his chauffeured 1972 Mercedes Benz 280SE, who made an aesthetical impression with very well groomed hair, starched pants and white school shirt and looked like a typical post British colonial wealthy heirloom with live-in servants. I was always envious of his life.

One hot and humid afternoon, I had a coughing fit during a tropical thunderstorm, as I suffered from asthma. Sitting in a corner thinking to myself, what do I want to do with my life … I remembered saying to myself that I did not want to end up like the low lifers in my neighbourhood with drugs and gangsterism, as it was not uncommon for school drop outs to end up in a gang in that era. I was committed to studying academically and trained hard to be the best in every school sport I signed up for.

Years went by, and that wealthy boy and I became best of friends. As I got to know him better, I became less envious of his life – despite the aesthetics. I became less envious, because he didn’t love what he did. He didn’t love school, sports, people, or life in general. It was something that I couldn’t for the life of me comprehend, as my family showed me how they loved work and life. That was a character trait that has been deeply engrained in me from an early age.”Do what you love and love what you do” was something that was passed on from my grandmother to me, before dementia got the better of her.

She was fervent about life, love and food. Ferocious and protective of her tribe, whilst keeping her heart and soul gentle, kind and fair. If she was in a rock and roll band, she would have changed the world with the music of her soul. She showed me meraki – a word that modern Greeks often use to describe what happens when you leave a piece of yourself (your soul, creativity and love) in your work.

Thirteen years ago, I moved to Sydney on my own to take on my second university degree, with a small amount of money in my pocket. I remember landing in a city without knowing a soul and starting from scratch. That was my one big opportunity to meraki my love for life. Whilst studying a second degree in Theatre Arts, I was washing dishes, waiting tables and packing shelves, as personal or government financial support was non-existent in my world.

I worked hard and smart to pay for school fees and living in a big city wasn’t cheap, but made the best of what I had whilst working odd jobs. That was when I truly fell in love with coffee, despite it being in the background all my life. My life changed forever.

I improved from washing dishes, packing coffee orders away and making chocolate sauce, but as a barista it was never about pulling the “God Shot” on a classic Linea. I was fortunate enough to be spotted and supported by a few “old dogs” of the industry – these guys gave me an opportunity no one has given me – a chance to show the world what I could do with my attitude and aptitude.

That was when all the things I had learnt about myself and the world around me from day one would be put to the test, as I grabbed and embraced this opportunity to meraki! Living my life to the fullest in the industry of my choice has brought me places and opportunities that wouldn’t have presented if I was complacent.

As Two Moos Specialty Coffee came to life, again my attitude and aptitude was put to the test – and this time at a level more intense that I have ever imagined. Working hard to keep your dreams alive is hard work, but so rewarding. As I learn to manage the hard work and challenges, I find my mind racing to look for bigger and better challenges in and out of work. I stumbled upon a new favourite sport: triathlon.

I thought, what better way to challenge my mind and see how far my body can go with this! It’s a sport where the athlete does not understand that one discipline is hard enough. The training itself was demanding physically and mentally. I knew I had found my new challenge. The attitude and aptitude I applied at work, I then applied during training, as one has to finish what they started. It sometimes required up to 20 hours of training a week, which happens to be a full-time job for many people. The swim, ride and run demanded that I improved my technique, inserting efforts during bulk training, and my body soon screamed out for a clean diet. This sport has sent me in a different direction in life, as I learn to love my own body by feeding it well with great nutrition, plenty of rest, work and training. I learnt resilience and that my attitude to finish a race soon determined my altitude.

Watching my dad race in various marathons and triathlons when I was young was exciting, but I soon wanted to be better and faster than he would ever be. I signed up for the ultimate triathlon race of my lifetime, a race I had never imagined I’d be physically ready for. I said, “I’ll never know until I do it.”

I then signed up for my first Ironman – Cairns 2016! 3.8 km swim, 180 km bike and 42.2 km run. Was I nervous? Absolutely yes, I was. Weather conditions weren’t favouring first timers, as the choppy swim soon turned the surf beach into dumpy conditions, whilst the 35 km wind during the 180 km ride turned out to be a 55 km head wind nearly the entire way. Saddling up on the bike for 6.5 hours riding a big distance wasn’t easy, with energy gels and a couple of food bars for nutrition and trying to digest six bottles of 680 ml electrolytes, throwing my digestive system completely out of place.

My feet swelled with fluid coming into the second transition; I walked on my heels into the change tent after I dismounted from my bike. I called on the paramedics for two bags of ice and some Ibuprofen to help reduce swelling. The paramedic looked at my feet, and I remembered looking him in the eye saying, “I only have the run to finish; I want my ice cream at the end. I’m finishing this – no matter what!”

I timidly walked on my heels, which turned to a slow shuffle, and then eventually I managed to run the fluid out of my feet after 3 km. I knew I only had (just under) 40 km to run! 4.5 hours later, I found myself running down the finishing chute!

There’s a saying in Ironman, “There are only two modes of transportation down the chute, and it’s either crawling past the finish line or running it down!” I was pleased to be able to run and jump past the finish line, receive my medal and went to eat my six scoop ice cream in the recovery tent!

Again, I proved myself wrong about my inability to achieve or complete challenges. The voice that tells me that I can’t do this or achieve that, when I look in the mirror was once again silenced with shame.

Being in a position to love what I do for a living and “recreation”, I consider myself fortunate to be able to combine my two loves throughout my life. The way we live our lives speaks loudly of who we really are. Be true to yourself and love yourself. “I will not trade my authenticity for your approval” is a phrase I use to constantly remind myself that I don’t need the approval of others to be loved. All I have to do is accept myself and the only challenge I face constantly every day is myself. I am not racing against time or any other person but myself.

I kick back with my espresso, thinking about my next Ironman, and my future is bright with lots of adventures ahead.

Story by Michael Oo
Photo credit : Simon Hall Photography