My Rocky Balboa Moment – And Why Life Gave Me More Rounds Than I Ever Expected!

Published on 19 November 2025 at 18:57

There are moments in life when everything suddenly becomes still.
No drama.
No music.
No spotlight.
Just silence.

A moment when you realize:
“I’m still standing. I’m still moving. I’m not done.”

Most of us experience these moments, but we rarely talk about them — maybe because they are so personal and so powerful that they almost feel sacred.
I’ve had more of them than I ever imagined.
And the truth is:

I never even thought I would live long enough to experience them.

When I was young — drumming, dreaming of stages, smoke machines and rock-star chaos — I truly believed I wouldn’t live past 30.
My idols died young.
The mythology of rock’n’roll glorified burning fast, burning bright, and burning out.

Living a long life wasn’t part of the script.
I assumed I would hit hard, live fast, and disappear early.

But life had very different plans for me.

Reaching 64 – The First Round I Never Expected to Win

Today, I’m 64.
That’s not just a number.
It’s a victory.
A round I never expected to reach.
A quiet but powerful triumph.

And the beautiful irony?

I’m more alive now than I ever was at 25.

I train.
I create.
I help others.
I build new projects.
I dream bigger than ever.

I’m not a retiree.
Not in body. Not in mind. Not in soul.

I am a Senior Entrepreneur & Modern Polymath — someone who continues to grow, design, connect, innovate, and inspire.

Looking back, it feels almost poetic:
When I thought life would be short, it became long.
When I thought the flame would fade, it grew stronger.

Leaving Sweden – And Starting Over Completely on My Own

It takes courage to leave the familiar.
It takes even more courage to do it after turning 60.

But I did it.

I left Sweden.
I left a system that no longer gave me space to contribute.
I left a job market where experience had become a liability instead of an asset.
I left everything I thought my future would be.

And I started over in Bulgaria.
New language.
New culture.
New rhythm.
New opportunities.
New life.

That’s not giving up.
That’s entering a new ring.

And in Bansko and Sofia, I found something surprising:
respect, curiosity, collaboration — and a place where experience matters.

Another round won.

The Years on My Sailboat – Where I Found My Rhythm Again

One of the most meaningful rounds of my life wasn’t loud or visible.
It took place on 4 square meters — aboard my sailboat Torus, anchored in the harbor of Gothenburg.

No noise.
No applause.
Just honesty and reflection.

I came onboard exhausted, medicated, and worn down.
But slowly, I began to heal.
I phased out medication.
I rebuilt myself.
I found my own rhythm again.

No one saw that fight.
But it was one of the most important victories I’ve ever earned.

When My Experience Became My Strength – And I Started Lifting Others

Something powerful began to happen in Bulgaria.

I started helping people with their old projects.
Ideas left in drawers.
Dreams postponed.
Concepts abandoned long ago.

I became what I once wished I had when I was younger:
someone who listens, sees, and believes.

My scars became maps for others.
My failures became guidance.
My experience became fuel.

And I realized:
You can be a mentor, innovator, and creator — long after 60.

This too was a Rocky moment:
fighting not only for myself, but for others.

On Top of Pirin – 2914 Meters of Pure Triumph

But one of the clearest physical and emotional victories came last summer, when I climbed Mount Pirin — 2914 meters above sea level.

It was steep.
Wild.
Demanding.
And unforgettable.

And I did it at 63.

Standing on that summit, with all of Bulgaria unfolding beneath me, I suddenly saw a truth with complete clarity:

The young man who believed he wouldn’t live past 30…
was now standing on one of the highest peaks in the Balkans.

It was my own Philadelphia-stairs moment, my personal triumph —
except no one else could possibly understand how much it truly meant.

But the Quietest, Rawest, Strongest Moment Came Later: The Heart Ablation

If I had to choose the most powerful round of my life, it wouldn’t be the mountain.

It would be something quieter.
More private.
More intimate.

It would be the day I took the tram alone in Gothenburg —
to undergo a heart ablation.

A procedure where doctors enter your heart, burn away faulty impulses,
and sometimes have to restart everything.

I lay awake for four hours on a table —
listening to every word
feeling every shift
staying completely still
while they worked inside the organ that has carried me for 60+ years.

This was not a fight of muscle.
It was a fight of presence, calm, courage, and trust.

When it was over, they restarted my heart.
Then I stood up.
Got dressed.
Walked out.

And I took the tram home.
Alone. The same evening.

No applause.
No celebration.
No emotional movie moment.

Just a quiet truth:

I survived. I endured. I won.

It was the purest Rocky Balboa moment of my entire life.

Not a Retiree – But More Alive Than Ever

Here’s the twist:

I’m more creative now than I have ever been.

I write.
I build projects.
I coach others.
I climb mountains.
I use AI.
I innovate.
I shape my future.
I start new rounds again and again.

I am not retired.

I am a
Entrepreneur & Modern Polymath
a person who creates with experience as fuel.

Life has not slowed down.
It has intensified.

So What’s My Rocky Balboa Moment?

It’s not one moment.
It’s all of them.

It’s being alive when I thought I’d die young.
It’s rebuilding myself again and again.
It’s moving countries after 60.
It’s climbing mountains at 63.
It’s surviving a heart operation alone — and taking the tram home.

It’s continuing.
Growing.
Dreaming.
Fighting.
Living.

This is my movie.
My round.
My life.

And Now I Turn to You:

What’s YOUR Rocky Balboa Moment?

When did you rise again?
When did you survive something you never told anyone about?
When did you face something impossible — and do it anyway?
What round did you win when no one saw it?

Tell your story.
Because we all carry these moments —
and they make us who we are.

 

By Chris...


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