Running a business in Finland is like doing an ultra-marathon in the dark, long, lonely, and full of unexpected hills. But somewhere between the snowstorms, high tax, and quiet clients, you get used to it. The silence stops feeling like rejection and starts feeling like background noise. You stop caring about daylight and start caring about cash flow.

The post is going to have some negatives and some positives. Mostly negatives disguised as “character development.” So buckle in, because this isn’t a LinkedIn love letter to entrepreneurship, it’s a survival manual with a few laughs.

Ten years ago I started Performance Unit.

Not out of some deep vision to build Finland’s biggest and most profitable coaching company. I just wanted to make enough profit to be able to pay rent. Yes, I said profit. This is where all the communists either stop reading or start warming up their keyboard fingers to write a 3-paragraph comment about how money is the root of evil.

Back then, I applied for coaching jobs at every major gym in Helsinki. Most didn’t call back. The few who did asked if I spoke Finnish.

“Joo joo” (yes yes) didn’t get me much further than the first phone call.

So, Performance Unit, which has been through more name changes than a witness protection program, was born out of necessity, mainly because I’m old-fashioned and didn’t want Kela sponsoring my girlfriend and me.

It started after bankrupting another company called Fitmeals, which I later rebranded to Shit Meals. The food was fine. The finances weren’t.

Eventually, I convinced a local gaming company to let me coach for free until people were actually willing to pay. Some people said that was smart. It wasn’t. It was desperation disguised as initiative. At the time, my business strategy was simple: get around people who were smarter than me and had some money in their account, because I definitely didn’t.

Now, Performance Unit makes around 800K in EBITDA (aka fake money), which I lovingly translate to 641k in real profit, assuming everyone pays their invoices. There goes that dangerous word again.

These are my opinions, built from a decade of trial, error, and caffeine. They don’t represent my company, my team, or anyone who accidentally shares this on LinkedIn and ends up in a meeting about it.

Anyway, here’s the list, in no particular order.

1) Most people don’t care about you, your vision or your company (and that’s ok)

The sooner you figure this out, the less disappointment you’ll have to drink away, and the less dopamine you’ll try to replace with nose beers. Most people are only out to serve themselves, their family, and whatever keeps their ego intact. That includes customers, staff, and probably your neighbour who still thinks you “just run a gym.”

If you can make your vision serve their interests, you win. If not, you’re just another guy giving a TED Talk to yourself.

As Charlie Munger says, “Show me the incentive and I will show you the outcome.”

A lot of modern-day motivational coaches, insert Simon Sinek, a guy who’s never actually built a company beyond selling books about building companies, say “Start with why.” But what they miss is that the “why” usually involves some form of incentive.

People don’t join your mission because they love your vibe. They join because they think it’ll get them more money, less stress, or a slightly better desk and the feeling of being higher on the pecking order and not having to get the coffee for the office. Once you see that clearly, you stop taking things personally.

2) Solve rich people problems

For those who don’t know, I come from a very non-wealthy background. Everything felt expensive. Growing up, my mates and I all agreed we’d leave our small hometowns, travel, and make something of ourselves. Credit where it’s due, we all did alright.

But my scarcity mindset followed me into business like a bad smell.

One day, I’m sitting in an intro session with a potential client. My palms, arms are heavy (shout out Eminem). I’m terrified to say the price. Finally, I mutter, “It’s 89 euros per session.” I say it like a question, not a statement.

He says, “Okay.”

Then he asks, “How many times a week should I train?”

I tell him, “Three to four times a week would be ideal.”

He nods, then says, “Could you be there for those sessions too?”

My brain immediately panics. I say, “You realise that’s going to be expensive, right? Maybe I just do it for free at first to get you going.”

He looks at me and says, “It’s not a problem. I’ll pay.”

I walk out of that meeting feeling like a tech founder fresh off his first funding round, somehow convincing a clueless VC to back his AI-wrapped startup dream.

That day I learned to stop solving poor people's problems. They’ll haggle, delay, and ghost you. Solve rich people's problems, they’ll pay, show up, and thank you for the invoice.

3) Call Your Leads Quickly

Everyone is emotional. Doesn’t matter if they drive a Tesla, a 20-year-old Toyota, or think a taxi is the only form of public transport that exists. Everyone’s high on caffeine and low on patience. No one wants to wait.

As the Chinese proverb says (and they probably stole it faster than they stole Google):

“The best time to plant a tree was 20 years ago. The second best time is now.”

We analysed over 4,000 leads and found something brutally obvious but game-changing. If we didn’t call someone within 20 minutes of them filling out a form, the chances of closing them dropped harder than my motivation in February.

Reasons were always the same:

• They found another company.
  
  

• They gave up faster than meal two on a Monday diet.
  
  

• Life got “too busy,” apparently in the 21 minutes it took you to call. (“Call me back in January” is the classic.)
  
  

People are impulsive. They apply for coaching the same way they buy and eat a salad. If they didn’t get abs immediately, they’ve already talked themselves out of improving.

The same goes for booking-to-show time delay on intro sessions. Unless they’re a porn star, they can’t stay hard forever (in other words motivated). Keep the time between the lead call and intro date short.

Strike while the motivation’s hot, wait too long, and you’re just another unread message from a nerd in a hot chick's inbox.

4) Business partners are not partners unless the equity is equal

There’s a saying in Finland: “Finns will spend 100 euros to make sure their neighbour doesn’t get 50€.”

It’s not just a Finnish thing. In Australia, we call it tall poppy syndrome. In America, it’s called “just another Tuesday on Twitter.”

People don’t like seeing others succeed. Women don’t always like when their friend loses weight. “Go queen,” they say, while secretly recalculating the dating pool. Men aren’t any better. Their version is, “He’s on steroids’’ or ‘’that was daddy’s money’’

In business, it’s the same psychology.

You can create the business, take the loans, sign leases, put your house on the line, and still call someone a “partner” because it sounds good. But you’re not really partners until the equity is equal.

When things go wrong, and they will, the founder with the bigger stake suddenly becomes “the captain.” Everyone else becomes “passengers.”

And when the ship starts to sink, they won’t say “I’ll go down with you.” They’ll grab a life raft, say “it’s your ship anyway,” and paddle away. And that’s ok. They all have their own battles, needs, wants and wishes. You chose to be the captain. Just don’t pretend everyone else did.

5) Investors are not your partners and they are not your gurus

Don’t fall for the idea that every investor wants the best for you.

Some do. But most are just humans with capital, spreadsheets, and egos. Most invest because they want to multiply their money, not your happiness.

Sure, having investors can help. They’ve usually built something before, or at least got lucky once and never stopped talking about it. Some genuinely believe in what you’re building and want to help. Others just like saying, “I own a gym.”

But investors are also emotional. They’ll give you advice based on how their portfolio’s doing that week or the last meeting with a founder they spoke to earlier that morning.. And when things get rough, some will disappear faster than a Finnish summer.

It’s your ship. You steer it. They might wave from the shore. And that’s fine. They owe you nothing, and you owe them no loyalty beyond the deal you signed. Return their money over time and you’re at least even.

And to the few investors who stuck around, the ones who actually cared — thank you. You were the exception.

Ok,

Too many dark ones

I nearly turned into a Finn.

Lets get more positive

‘’How the fuck are ya’’

6) When someone says ‘’how are you’’ say ‘’Great’’

Everyone says good.

Good doesn’t tell anyone anything, it just. Good in Finland could mean, ‘’well I have not killed myself yet’’ to ‘’I just sold the company for Millions or you somehow convinced your first client to train 3x per week’’

Great is charismatic.

Charisma is what people return for.

If you are charismatic you make people feel better about themselves. Some people mix charisma with you making you look great, but these people have got it wrong.

A charismatic person is the opposite. Your job as a founder is to get people to keep turning up. To do that, you need to be more charismatic than skilled. This is even more true if you are a coach trying to sell health and fitness.

Your fancy training program doesn’t equate to anything if you are as boring as a DEI workshop. (yeah, I wrote that, but you all think it)

7) Hire Fast, Fire Faster

The old saying goes, hire slow, fire fast. That might’ve worked in the 90s when people actually stayed in jobs longer than a phone battery. But today? People are impatient.

We live in a world where every second person on LinkedIn is a “headhunter” and your inbox looks like a recruitment billboard. There are job sites, offers, and “new opportunities” everywhere. Loyalty’s been replaced with notifications.

Back in the day (read that again in an old man’s voice)… back in the day, people waited around for an interview. They’d show up early, iron their shirt, and bring enthusiasm . Now they ghost you faster than a Tinder date if you don’t reply within 24 hours.

No great hire is going to sit around waiting while you “evaluate options.” If someone’s good, they’re already gone.

(Side note: anyone who brags about “other offers” usually doesn’t have them. They’re just annoying.)

So make the hire. Move quick. Onboard faster. And if they’re still useless, fire faster.

Because no amount of onboarding, optimism, or “we just need to give them time” is going to fix someone who’s about as useful as tits on a bull or an ashtray on a motorbike.

You’re not as good at reading people as you think you are. None of us are. Everyone interviews well. Everyone’s “excited to grow with the company.” Then week three hits, and you realise you’ve accidentally hired a motivational quote with a pulse.

The faster you accept that, the faster you’ll stop wasting time trying to save the wrong people.

8) Contracts are useless.

Doing business in Finland as an immigrant is tough enough. Doing business with a company that rhymes with Cock makes it even tougher.

We had a 12-month notice period written clearly in the contract. Iron-clad. Bulletproof. The kind of clause that makes you think, “Finally, some security.”

Then one day they sent an email saying, “We’ve decided to terminate in two weeks.”

Two weeks.

Twelve months of “commitment” evaporated faster than daylight in February.

When I pointed to the section of the contract that literally said 12 months, they said the Finnish classic: “It depends.” Lawyers love that one. Their other favourite is “It’s hard to prove.”

Which roughly translates to “You’re absolutely screwed, but I’ll still bill you 250 an hour to tell you that.”

That’s when I realised contracts don’t protect you, character does. Paper means nothing if the people behind it are spineless.

If you ever find yourself signing a deal with a company that rhymes with Cock, read every clause twice, then just assume they’ll do whatever they want anyway.

I hope they are currently reading this and sweating like a gypsy with a mortgage.

9) Hiring Staff Is Like Getting Step-Sons

As your business grows, especially in coaching, you start hiring people. Most are young, hungry, and full of hormones (and no, not the ones you inject). They’re ambitious, a little chaotic, and trying to find their rhythm in a fast-moving environment.

Hiring staff is a bit like getting step-sons. You wanted the hot mum -> more clients, more revenue, more growth. But before that, you have to learn to deal with the energy and unpredictability that comes with people who are still finding their feet. A total cock block.

At Performance Unit, our vision has always been to make it a great place for great coaches to work. We can take a good coach and make them great, but we can’t do magic, and we definitely can’t polish a turd.

Some of the people you hire will be absolute weapons, self-starters, reliable, and busier than a one-armed bricklayer in Baghdad. Others just need structure and guidance because not everyone’s come from an environment where leadership actually meant something.

Your job as a leader isn’t to be their mate or their therapist. It’s to set the standard, coach them up, and give them the environment they can thrive in. When you get it right, you don’t just build a team, you build momentum.

And one day, when the chaos quiets down, you’ll realise those “step-sons” you were guiding have turned into proper professionals who make the business better than you could on your own.

10) Obsess over the small things

How you do one thing is how you do everything.

You can tell a lot about a coach by how they fold a towel. It’s never about the towel.

It’s about the standard.

Jordan Peterson talks about “cleaning your room.” High-level coaches talk about their best athletes always having their shit together, bags packed, gear prepped, and recovery dialled in before anyone else has even shown up.

In the personal training industry, you are the business card.
No one’s buying meth off someone with all their teeth, so look the part. Be sharp, be consistent, and take pride in the small things because they bleed into everything you do.

The small things are usually what separate professionals from hobbyists. Most people want to skip straight to the big moves, the logo, the brand, the launch, the “we’re building something special” speech. But the truth is, the businesses that last are built on boring habits done well. Showing up on time. Following through. Returning messages. Folding the damn towel.

I’ve learned that if someone can’t get the small things right, they won’t get the big ones either. Because the big things are just small things stacked for years.

Ten years in, I’ve seen enough to know that obsession isn’t unhealthy, it’s the only reason you survive.

IN CLOSING (AND A FINAL POINT)

My last point is more of a reminder for me than anyone else.

Keep being authentic.

For years, I’ve battled with trying to be the so-called “Peace Time CEO.” It doesn’t suit me. I’m not the nicest guy in the room, and I’ve learned that the hard way and now you know it reading this blog post.

A good coach is a chameleon, someone who can adapt to all kinds of clients and situations. Maybe I sucked at that too. I made a choice early on not to try to be everything to everyone. I’d rather make less money and hire people who actually enjoy dealing with people when things are smooth.

Truth is, I don’t like “dealing with people” at all. My step-kids (staff) sometimes get the better of me.

But I guess that’s the perk of being the owner, and having to be the one that goes down with the ship.

As Conor McGregor says:

“The double champ does what the f*** he wants.”

Thank you to the clients, staff, and investors, family and friends who’ve watched and participated in the ups and downs of a crazy Australian trying to fumble his way through entrepreneurship in Finland.

And as the great Snoop Dogg once said:

“Last but not least, I want to thank me — for believing in me, I want to thank me for doing all this hard work, I want to thank me for having no days off, I want to thank me for never quitting, I want to thank me for always being a giver and trying to give more than I receive. I want to thank me for trying to do more right than wrong, I want to thank me for just being me at all times. Snoop Dogg, you a bad motherf***er.”