It’s a Race!
This story takes me back to November 2001. Every year, I sought out at least one crazy challenge—something to push my limits. So, why not sign up for the toughest jet ski race on the planet? The African Jetraid: 1,800 km of relentless endurance along the coast and backwaters of Senegal and Mauritania.
Little did I know that eight years later, I’d find myself in a different kind of race—one with striking parallels and equally daunting challenges: launching a startup in the event registration space, EventDrive.
Up Against the Giants
In the Jetraid, I was competing against seasoned veterans, well-funded teams, and factory-backed competitors with world-class technical support. One of the top teams was Yamaha’s official factory squad, featuring reigning world champion Joël Bontoux. I can’t quite recall their official team name, but for the sake of this story, let’s call them Sea-Event. (No pun intended)
The race kicked off in Dakar, snaking through Lac Rose, the coast of Île des Prisonniers, and into Mauritania. The level of adrenaline and sheer unpredictability rivaled that of Paris-Dakar—or the cutthroat battle for success in the event technology space.
Each day brought a new kind of challenge: high-speed endurance runs, grueling navigation through the mangroves of Sine Saloum, and intense closed-course slalom races. The latter was especially brutal—16 competitors battling it out, with only 8 advancing to the next round.
It reminded me a lot of startups: you never know who will make it to the finish line. And just because you have the most funding doesn’t mean you’re guaranteed to advance.
I decided to play it smart—sticking to the outside line and leaving space for the reckless riders. At 120 km/h, water is as unforgiving as concrete.
By the end of the first day, many competitors were already out—either in the hospital or with their jet skis totaled. I finished second to last. But one race doesn’t define the competition, right?
What it did give me, though, was an advantage: I would start first the following day.
Navigating the Unknown
At 6 AM, I set off alone into the mangroves of Sine Saloum—a breathtaking nature reserve full of twisting waterways, hidden creeks, and no maps for reference.
Years later, I’d find myself in a similar situation, navigating the event technology industry. No clear path, just a distant beacon on a tiny GPS—my gut feeling—guiding me toward the next decision.
The water was perfectly still, mirroring the soft pink hues of the morning sun. The hum of my jet ski broke the silence, waking the birds floating peacefully on the surface. It felt like the calm before the storm—just like pre-printed badges waiting for delegates at an event before the doors open.
Success, like this race, is a labyrinth—a thousand choices, countless dead ends.
When I finally reached the turning point, I set my GPS to “reverse track,” fixating on the screen as if my life depended on it, my nose practically pressed against the navigation.
That’s when I got stuck.
Sinking in the Mud
The tide had receded, leaving me stranded in thick, sticky mud—a cesspool of decomposing algae, leeches, and jellyfish.
Just when you think you’ve figured out the path, the environment changes. And if you’re not paying attention, you get stuck.
I tried wading toward an island, but with every step, I sank deeper—like quicksand. The only way out was to crawl through the muck until I reached another jet ski that could take me to the support boat.
Four hours later, the tide finally rose, and I could continue the race. By then, the other competitors were long gone.
Like at sunrise, I found myself alone on the water. The setting sun blazed on the horizon, painting the sky in fiery red. Then, as if scripted by fate, four dolphins appeared, swimming alongside me for the final stretch.
I may have finished last, but in that moment, I felt like I had won.
The Real Test
Throughout the race, I had to repair the engine four times—without any professional assistance, just a Petzl headlamp and determination.
Years later, I’d experience the same sleepless nights, working under dim light to keep EventDrive afloat. The same resilience, the same improvisation, the same relentless pursuit of the finish line.
Because whether it's racing across the African coast or building a startup from scratch—it’s always a race.
My key takeaways:
Trust your gut—no matter how many consultants or spreadsheets try to steer your decisions, intuition remains the ultimate North Star.
Just when you think you’ve found the right path, obstacles appear—the market shifts, challenges arise, and staying adaptable is key.
It’s okay to ask for help when you need it; sometimes, a little guidance is all it takes to get back on track.
And remember, you don’t have to be in pole position to enjoy the ride—sometimes, the best views come when you slow down and take it all in.
