🧭 One Month Home: What I Gained, What I Lost, What I’m Feeling 🏡💭📉📈

For those of you who don’t know, I’m a gamer.
It’s one of my deepest passions—right up there with anime and wrestling (specifically WWE, yes I’m a mark!). These things didn’t just entertain me; they shaped who I am. Maybe it’s unfair to put that weight on them, but it’s the truth. It’s funny how the things we love, even when they’re objectively mediocre, can become so integral to how we think.

Take Crash Bandicoot: Twinsanity, one of my all-time favourite games. I might even review it someday. But there’s one line from the game that stuck with me for no real reason:
“The rats are leaving the sinking ship.”
It’s an old idiom, meaning people abandon a failing situation—whether it’s a business, a project, or something more personal—before it completely collapses.

So why am I starting this post with that line?
Because since I returned home, I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ve caught myself wondering if all the effort I’m putting into maintaining my progress—the training, the discipline, the momentum—is a waste of time. That maybe I should just let the rats leave.

But why?
Why was a month back in Ireland enough for doubt and negativity to creep in? Why does fitness feel different when I’m traveling versus when I’m just… living?

Ironically, the answer might lie in structure.
While I was away, I had freedom. I wasn’t working. No one relied on me. I wasn’t important. Now, you could argue two of those three things still apply (fair point), but the weight of responsibility hits differently when you’re home. And like many adults, I’ve found it all too easy to be smothered under that weight.

What’s funny, though, is that responsibility wasn’t totally absent in Thailand either. I often felt like I could have—and should have—done more classes, pushed harder. I wasn’t totally comfortable there either. In a weird way, discomfort followed me both places, just in different forms.
And honestly, I wonder: if I had stayed even one more week after the camp, would these feelings have caught up to me there too?

Here in Ireland, thanks to the support of the great Gavin Meenan (Instagram link) and the awesome facilities of ROM (Range Of Motion Sligo) (Instagram link), I’ve got a new program, a plan, and structure again. Gavin’s kept me on track, helped me keep building on what I gained at camp, and reminded me that the journey doesn’t end just because the setting changes. ROM, for its part, has become one of the few safe havens I have when it feels like the boat is sinking faster.

I’ve been training regularly—at a pace that’s sustainable—and managing my food. Gavin’s helped me pinpoint what’s working, what could be improved, and how to keep making progress. And I’m proud to say that I haven’t just maintained what I achieved in Thailand—I’ve made small improvements since returning.

But that’s the thing—they’ve only been small.

In Thailand, I went from 17st 12lb to 17st 2lb.
Here in Ireland, I’ve dropped just 5lb in the same timeframe—down to 16st 11lb.
Stats. Relentless little buggers, aren’t they?. Gotta love them.

A long way to go but the little things stack up too.

In Thailand, if you walked into a 7-Eleven, the sweets were tucked away at the back. You had to choose to go there. Still annoying (they were near the protein shakes), but less in-your-face.

In Ireland? You’re greeted by temptation at the door. Sweets. Newspapers screaming doom. Prices that make your stomach turn. And staff who—through no real fault of their own—often seem just as beaten down as the customers.

I always try to be kind to anyone working in service—I know what they deal with. But in Thailand, even when people didn’t understand what I was saying, they smiled, laughed, engaged.
Here? Flip a coin. Maybe they ignore you. Maybe they pretend not to hear you (that’s the worst one). Or maybe they try until another customer or manager kills the vibe.

Anyway—rant over. 😅

Another difference I’ve noticed—and this one stings a bit—is how cliquey things feel here compared to Thailand.

Back at camp, everyone was on the same journey. Different backgrounds. Different goals. But the energy was shared. You could chat with anyone, partner up with anyone, and no one looked at you sideways for trying. It felt like a team effort, even if we were all on our own paths.

Back in Ireland, I can’t help but feel like the walls are back up. Whether it’s at the gym, in a class, or just walking around town, there’s this sense of social territory. Like if you weren’t already part of a group, you’re probably not getting in now.

ROM has introduced something that could help with that—a communal coffee zone and a sauna (coming soon). It’s a beautiful idea, and I really hope it breaks down some of those invisible walls. For me I look forward to giving it a go, so if you ever spot me there pull me aside and say hello

Maybe it’s just me.
But it does make you long for a change of setting—somewhere like the pub, where people are more open, more free. But of course, with alcohol comes chaos: louder crowds, more aggression, more questionable decisions.
I haven’t had a pint since I got back, but resisting the temptation hasn’t exactly been easy.

So yeah—these pressures have made me question things.
The worth of the work.
The why behind the grind.

So why am I really feeling this way?

I’m not entirely sure yet. But I do know I plan to figure it out.

Once I settle into the new job and adjust to being truly back in Ireland, I want to keep expanding my horizons. Visit more of Ireland. See more of Europe. Take on new challenges. Try the things I’ve always said I would but never followed through on.

Maybe I’ll finally do the skydiving I promised myself 15 years ago—despite the fear of heights.

All I know is this:
Looking back at the difference in atmosphere, camaraderie, and joy between this past month in Ireland and the one I spent in Thailand… it’s clear something changed in me.

That’s why I genuinely believe every young person should have a travel fund waiting for them on their 19th birthday.

One month away changed me.
Maybe it could change them too.

I’ll leave you with the final image of the main meal I have been forcing onto myself almost everyday. Yes not having change in meals is boring but what can I say I am a creature of habit but it fuels the mission. (Still waiting on Gordon Ramsay’s review).

Two breasts of chicken with salt and pepper in a shallow fry with rapeseed oil and Balsamic Rice with salt, pepper, ground turmeric, smoked paprika and plenty of stirring

Oh and since no one have yet to complain the new closing line from my twitch streams (link here and below shameless plug) will stick around for now…

Slán go fóill! And Póg mo Thóin! My Craic Addicts!


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Titan Fitness Final Round – Marked for Life, Changed Forever 💥

It’s funny how life sometimes stops you in your tracks. For the past four weeks, I’ve sat at my computer, staring at this blank page, willing the words to come. Every time, I let myself get distracted—whether it was scrolling, snacking, or convincing myself that I’d do it tomorrow. But today, no more excuses. It’s time to talk about the challenge that shook my confidence, bruised my ego, and tested my limits.

There was one class at Titan Fitness Camp that I was sure I’d be able to handle. Back in Ireland, I had climbed a few mountains here and there. Granted, it had been a while since my last excursion, but still—I figured when it came time for the Buddha Run, I’d be able to put in a respectable performance. The class was held every Wednesday, giving me four chances to prove myself. However, I missed the first one due to my previously mentioned intimate interaction with a motorbike.

I was told beforehand that the Buddha Run was a 3.8-kilometre trek, starting at an elevation of 40 metres and climbing to 340 metres. On paper, that didn’t sound too bad. For comparison, my usual hike back home in Ireland is a 5-kilometre route that starts at 70 metres and peaks at around 370 metres.

The key differences?

  1. My Irish route has a mix of natural and wooden steps, which help break up the climb. The Buddha Run? A constant, unforgiving paved road that just keeps going up.
  2. The Irish hike reaches its peak halfway through, then slopes downward. The Buddha Run? A relentless incline all the way to the finish line. No breaks, no mercy.

The Buddha Run Elevation Map

The Main Ireland Mountain Elevation Map

Looking at the stats now, I can confidently say I was a deluded twat. I convinced myself that because I could finish the full 5-kilometre Irish hike in about an hour and a half, I’d be able to complete the Buddha Run in 40 to 44 minutes. Spoiler alert: I was very, very wrong.

So, on the 5th of February, I woke up at 5:30 AM, ready to take on the climb. I grabbed my travel bag, emptied it out, and packed only the essentials—namely, a towel, knowing full well that the heat would be brutal. What I didn’t do, however, was bring enough water. On my next two attempts, I wised up and packed two 2-litre bottles, which added weight to my bag but made the journey far more bearable.

As a group, we arrived at the front door of the Titan Centre and boarded the organised buses to the start of the Buddha Run. Well… buses might be a generous term. What stood before us were three songthaews—which, if you’re unfamiliar, are essentially pickup trucks with aspirations of being public transport.

The name songthaew comes from the two bench seats running along either side of the truck bed. In some, an ambitious third bench is crammed down the middle, because clearly, personal space is optional. A roof is fitted over the back, sometimes with curtains or plastic sheets to keep out the rain—though they mostly just flap around dramatically. Some models have roofs high enough for standing passengers inside, while others prefer the more thrilling approach: a tiny platform at the rear where you cling on for dear life and reconsider your life choices.

After about 30 minutes, we arrived at the starting point and gathered in a small parking area off the side of the road for some pre-run stretches. Personally, I’ve always found stretching to be a bit pointless—I’ve never felt it loosen me up or make me any more prepared for the task ahead. But after begrudgingly doing it in enough classes and actually noticing the difference, I’ve now made it a habit… or at least, I tell myself I have. In reality, I still occasionally ignore my newfound wisdom, roll the dice on injury, and instantly regret it.

Anyway, after a solid 15 minutes of stretching, we were ready for the first climb. I was pumped, I was ready, I was game… and I was immediately watching everyone else speed ahead like they had rocket boosters strapped to their feet. Honestly, this didn’t bother me too much—I’d already accepted that some of these people were basically built in a lab for this kind of thing.

As my confidence started slipping away with every step, I spotted something that snapped me out of it—a spectacular structure under construction. It was unlike anything I’d see back home in Ireland. Instead of the rigid uniformity I was used to, it had a kind of chaotic beauty to it. And in that moment, despite my burning legs and dwindling self-belief, I felt a spark of excitement. If this was just the beginning, what else was waiting for me ahead?

Soon, I’d get my answer to that quandary when, about halfway up the trail, I stumbled upon an elephant sanctuary. We’d been given a fair warning about this place—sometimes, the elephants casually cross the road to get from one section to another. Safe? Absolutely… for the elephants. As one person put it, “The elephant crushes you before you even manage to hurt it.”

Luckily, that never became an issue. In fact, I was pretty fortunate—out of the three times I did this run, the elephants only made an appearance on my first attempt. And since I was more focused on keeping my legs moving than playing wildlife photographer, I can only apologize for the shockingly bad photo evidence.

As I pushed forward, more and more people passed me until, eventually, there was no one left. I was the last in line, the proud recipient of the vanity award for ensuring that every brave soul attempting this challenge made it to the finish. We had been given an hour to complete the climb, and as I caught sight of the coaches and songthaews passing me, making their way to the top, my heart began to sink. I was this close to not making it.

But then, I remembered my climb up Errigal with Gavin Meenan (Instagram link) and the Modern Warriors. Two steps forward, always two steps forward—even if it means one step back. With that mantra ringing in my ears, I powered through the final stretch and reached the peak.

There, standing in front of me, was the iconic Big Buddha—except, well… it was under maintenance. So, after all that effort, the best I could do was admire its backside.

However, that wasn’t the true spectacle awaiting me at the finish line. In a moment that turned me as red as a Christmas tree covered in blinking lights, a group of Titans were there, cheering me on, shouting for me to push through to the very end. As I crossed the line, I was met with an avalanche of high-fives, and—though I hate to admit it—it was exactly what I needed.

Just off to the side of the finish line, as you can see on the map below, was a scenic perch showcasing a breath-taking view. As a group, we made our way over, soaking in the incredible sight. Then, one of the coaches gathered us together, handed the Titan celebratory flag to the MVP of the run, and snapped a group photo. Looking back at those pictures now still fills me with joy.

In fact, all three of my attempts at the Buddha Run brought their own brand of happiness—and a few unexpected fashion choices. I was sweating so much it may as well have been raining in Ireland, so rather than constantly pulling out a sweat towel, I decided to wear it like a bib. Pair that with my sunglasses, and suddenly I was sporting a look that was less athlete and more washed-up 80s action star trying to stay relevant. And my constant guzzling of a two-litre water bottle made me look less like a peak athlete and more like a lad rehydrating after a three-day session at the Galway Races—not that I’d know anything about that, of course!

However with the fitness there also was a requirement for some fun. I had promised myself before I had left for Thailand that I would do all in my power to avoid any alcoholic beverages and for the most part I achieved that feat. There were 3 exceptions

  1. The Night before I joined the titan fitness camp I had a singular Thai cocktail of some description that I can’t spell or pronounce and which unfortunately left much to much to be desired
  2. Then the night before I left I had a few Libations in celebration of my journey with a few of the other titans.
  3. Then theres a random night I wasn’t expecting.

One day after a class, a genuinely top-tier guy—we’ll call him M—approached me with an offer. One of his crew had bought a ticket to Vona Beach Club, a floating beach club off the coast of the Patong Boat Pier, but had to back out. M figured I’d be good company and invited me along for a visit to paradise. Naturally, I agreed.

Later that day, we met up, grabbed a taxi, and headed to the pier. While waiting for the boat to take us to the boat—yes, a strange concept, but one that worked beautifully—we stopped for a drink. That’s when I was handed what I thought was raspberry water… but turned out to be raspberry champagne. And with that, the floodgates were open for the night.

The trip over was rough, but stunning. Watching some of the group nearly lose themselves on the speedboat was hilarious, but once we arrived, it was breathtaking.

Onboard, we were brought to an upstairs section where our group had a reserved bed, and that’s when the real fun began—music, drinks, and dancing galore. At one point, I even ended up in the swimming pool in the middle of the boat. An odd but incredible experience.

Would I ever spend my own money on something like this if I hadn’t been invited? Probably not. But since I was, I made sure to enjoy every single second—as you’ll see in the photos below.

But the night didn’t end there.

We found out that another group of Titan members was at a different festive establishment and planned to head to Patong Strip afterward. I’d heard stories about the place and had originally planned to avoid it, but… when in Paris, I suppose.

First stop? An Irish-themed bar—because of course we did. And this is where I got royally screwed.

Feeling confident in my ability to judge the exchange rate, I ordered a pint of Guinness for 380 Thai Baht. And for the first time since arriving in Thailand, I was hoisted by my own petard—paying a painful €10.36 for a bad pint of Guinness. Absolute robbery. But the craic was good, so we moved on.

Next, we hit up an establishment called New York New York, where we met up with the rest of the Titans and danced the night away. It was an incredible few hours, and I have no regrets.

I also have no regrets about the fact that I somehow managed to contain the evidence to just four photos. The wild stuff remains undocumented.

After that, I really wanted to commemorate this experience with something permanent—something that would always remind me of this place, these people, and everything I’ve been through. So, I got a tattoo from the one and only Path (Instagram link). He always made me feel comfortable, welcomed, and accepted at Titan, and I can confidently say he did an incredible job creating this piece of brilliance.

There is many more stuff I could write about and some that will pop up in my mind as cherrished memories too small to highlight but too large to forget. However, it’s time to address the elephant in the room—or, in this case, the elephant at the end of this whopper of a post! Why did it take me four weeks to write this? Well, would you believe it—I’m back in Ireland. Yeah, I’m just as surprised as you are!

As some of you who follow my personal accounts may have noticed, while I was in Thailand, I landed a job back home—an opportunity too good to pass up. So, my trip was cut short. There were things I didn’t get to do, but honestly, my time in Thailand was life-changing. I’d recommend the experience to anyone. Even if Titan Fitness isn’t your thing, the Fitness Street of Soi Ta-iad has something for everyone. Whether you call them gyms, clubs, or factories of pain, they’re packed with people who push you, support you, and make the experience unforgettable. The freedom you feel, the progress you make, and the kindness you receive make it all worthwhile—no matter the outcome.

I can’t overstate how much this trip meant to me, but it won’t be my last. Once I settle into the new job, I want to travel more—even if it’s just exploring different parts of Ireland to start. I want to keep expanding my horizons, trying new things, and sharing my opinions. I’ll be writing more WWE reviews, though they’ll likely be post-show thanks to Irish time zones. I also want to dive into food reviews, movie reviews, and maybe—if I can find a book that holds my attention for more than 30 pages—some book reviews too.

This is the story of my lead-up to and time in Thailand, and I appreciate every single one of you who took the time to read any part of it. Now, onto the next chapter. I’ll leave you with the final image of me and my PT Aof and the final picture for now that I took in Thailand.

And on my streams, I’ve added a new closing line that fits me perfectly—cheeky, funny, and very on-brand. I don’t know if it’ll stick around, but for now…

Slán go fóill! And Póg mo Thóin! My Craic Addicts!


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🔥 Titan Fitness Round 2 – I Just Wasn’t Prepared – Bruised But Not Broken and Still the Supposed Lord 💥🦵😅

After messing up and accidentally having a free weekend, I was hyped and ready to get down to business. I woke up to see the newly updated class schedule posted in the WhatsApp group chat. Knowing I had a Personal Training (PT) session included for the day, I was determined to do at least three classes on my first day.

This was where I learned the truly horrifying home truth that I was brutely unfit and that my dreams would remain that a dream. I went to the crosstraining class at 8.15am where I was met with nothing but infinite kindness by all of my fellow participants and the trainer for that class, Coach Dino (Instagram link) and Coach Lewis (Instagram link).

They explained the type of work we would be doing, demonstrated the proper technique for each task, and boosted our confidence every step of the way—something I desperately needed. I started out feeling pretty unsure, but we were matched into groups of three, and I was lucky that the two gentlemen I was paired with had similar strength profiles to mine.

For the warm-up portion, I was able to keep pace with my teammates and hit my workout targets at the same speed. There were a few instances where Dino needed to come over to correct my form. However, he did note that for the most part, my form was almost perfect, especially during the deadlift exercises like the kettlebell deadlift and later, a deadlift using a bench press bar, courtesy of the great Gavin Meenan (Instagram link).

It was in the last 15 minutes, during the partner “As Many Rounds (or Reps) As Possible” (AMRAP) Workout of the Day (WOD), that things took a turn for the worse for me. I had completely run out of energy, and what made it worse was that I was using weights much lighter than what I was previously lifting in Ireland before I left.

Now, there’s a caveat to this: in Ireland, I was using a Triangle Bar for deadlifts, and the weights would range from:

  • 5 x 52.5kg (15kg each)
  • 5 x 92.5kg (35kg each)
  • 5 x 122.5kg (50kg each)
  • 5 x 142.5kg (60kg each)

Here in this class, we had 100kg on the bench press bar, and my ability to move it was severely impaired. This crushed my soul, motivation, and desire. What was worse was that, looking around, I was the only one on my team who had to tap out—and the only one in the class to boot. And to make matters worse, I tapped out just 5 minutes into the 15-minute session, which meant I had to sit on the sidelines, watching as the others finished the workout, drowning in my self-loathing.

Now, my teammates didn’t mind at all that I tapped out. They understood and supported me, giving me pep talks and congratulatory slaps on the back for what I had managed to do. But for me, it meant nothing. I was glad I did the class, but the thought of team-based challenges became a sticking point for me. Unfortunately, until the last week of the retreat, I did everything I could to avoid them.

After this, I had breakfast and met with the shining light of the trip. For privacy reasons, I’m not sure she wants to be named, but I met a woman named S. Irish, like me. She understood exactly how I was feeling and had a way about her that made me smile at my own self-loathing. She helped me reflect on my difficulties and gave me the strength to get back up after my “arse was thoroughly smacked.” In an incredible twist of fate, we discovered that we were next-door neighbors at the hotel, so we became buddies and talked throughout the retreat. She truly made the experience beautiful for me, and I thanked her galore for that honor.

Anyway, after she set me right, I decided to partake in one of the extra elements included in my package: one of the three Ice Baths and Saunas a week. These took place on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays between 12 and 2 pm for a period of one hour. Back in Ireland, the wonderful Hot Box Saunas (Website) were a true joy of mine, so I was really looking forward to this experience. However, once again, I would be met with slight disappointment. Much to my chagrin, the maximum temperature of the saunas was 72°C, and with the sauna I used in Ireland often reaching between 90-100°C, I found it lacking.

However, the same could not be said for the ice baths. Throughout the entire experience, I missed only two attempts at the ice bath. It became one of the most enjoyable tasks of the camp, which is certifiably insane, as many of the other camp attendees kept telling me. It got to the point that before I left, one or two people referred to me as the “Lord of the Ice Bath.” On one particular day, I managed to last 45 minutes in the ice water without leaving it for a second. I’ll admit, I did cheat a little—my arms remained above the water for that period. With my arms in the water, I lasted 15 minutes, which I’m still impressed with today.

After the ice, I then met with my PT for the first of 20 sessions we would have throughout this experience—the incredible Aof (Instagram link). Immediately, he noticed a few issues I had never taken notice of. My posture was unacceptable, lurching too far forward, which artificially showcased my, as an incredibly kind nurse once put it, “rotund frame.”

He stated that I had a good amount of definition in the front regions of my chest and shoulders; however, the same couldn’t be said for my rear shoulders and back. This was fascinating to me, because based on this observation, he was able to deduce that before I came to the camp, I had spent several years in a job that required me to sit at a desk for long periods of time. I had always thought I was doing enough to avoid any issues with my body because of that fact. I worked out daily, pushed myself to my limits, started walking more—including doing a number of mountain walks (foreshadowing! in a future post) in my local area—and made an effort to move every hour on the hour.

Alas, I had done some good, but not enough. So, we decided to focus more on strengthening those underdeveloped areas, rather than focusing on a program that would maximize my weight loss, which, as you can see from the images below, was badly needed. We took no quarter and immediately dove into our first workout: Chest and Triceps. What made this particularly grueling was that I had informed Aof about my experience in the Crosstraining class, and he used it as a challenge, targeting the exact areas that had failed me during that session. Truthfully, I believe it was a happy coincidence, but alas, we went for it anyway.

With that, I was satisfied and ready to continue improving in the upcoming days. Before I left, one of the things Aof recommended I pick up was a canister of protein powder to ensure I was getting enough to burn throughout my time at the camp. After a good workout, I wanted to get this out of the way immediately, so I went up the street and checked out a couple of sports shops. After about 30 minutes of going between the stores, I still hadn’t found the specific brand of protein powder Aof had recommended. And then, the last horrible experience of this truly unique first proper day happened.

Let me set the scene. I was on one side of the road and needed to cross to reach the last potential supplement shop on the street. There wasn’t a zebra crossing in sight. Like everywhere else in Thailand, if there isn’t a crossing, your only option is to make a break for it when you get the best chance. Don’t beat me to the punchline… I looked left—nothing. I looked right, and there was a van and a bike on the way up. They were slow, and I had enough distance to cross before they got to me. So, I made the dash.

I crossed in front of the van with plenty of space, crossed in front of the bike with plenty of space, and then, out of nowhere, another bike attempted to overtake the two vehicles at an alarming speed. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do anything, and the bike ran right into me. I was lucky I saw it just in time. I quickly turned my body to roll on top of the front of the bike, which I managed to do. I landed flat on my stomach after rolling off the bike. The only damage was a bruised leg and a sore elbow. In fact, as I write this post, it’s still an annoyance to me, but thankfully nothing worse.

The driver checked to see if I was bleeding or dead, and when he confirmed I wasn’t, he went on his merry way. I got up sore and bruised, but alive and well. This put a stop to my plans for doing more classes that day, but to be fair, I was probably going to skip them anyway. For the next few days, I went to maybe one class and worked with my PT, but it was all good. I healed fairly well and prepared for the other challenges that would appear the following week, but that’s a discussion for next time. I leave you with this image of me at the end of that Monday, and yes, it’s a mix of exhaustion, pain, and disbelief. And why disbelief? Because would you believe the last supplement shop didn’t have the protein powder either?

Until next time, my friends! Be sure to keep your craic at 90! Slán go fóill!


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