Alva Lund

Ever since I was a child, I've loved being on the move. Back then, it was hours outside with friends or riding my bike through the hills near Oslo, Norway. That feeling of freedom stayed with me, but life eventually caught up—university, work, responsibilities. Sports were out of the question for a while. But when I specialized in sports medicine and opened my own practice three years ago, I found time for myself again. I rediscovered my passion, but this time, I wanted to push further.

The Ironman isn’t for the faint-hearted, or for those without some financial backing. Between registration fees, flights, and accommodations, you either need sponsors or enough savings to support this dream. And here I am, 33 years old, standing on the brink of it. Some people ask why I’m doing all this. What drives me to put my body through hell just to cross a finish line?

It’s not about the glory or the medal. It’s about the discipline. I’m fascinated by how the mind can push the body beyond what seems possible. Train hard enough, set your goal, and suddenly your limits aren’t so fixed. I take that mentality into everything I do—work, personal challenges. Nothing can knock me down easily anymore.

Sports were my salvation once. After my parents split, and my father died not long after, everything felt unstable. Running gave me control. And now, the Ironman is my way of showing myself that I can still conquer anything, even if it's a marathon in the searing heat of the Gard. Will it be tough? Of course. But I’ll make it.