When I reflect on this past year, it's clear life gave me plenty of raw material for growth. I write this to shape that raw material into principles and lessons. I write so that I can grow and become the person that I need to become. And I share it in hopes someone else might draw strength from it.
Let's start at the beginning.
[Some quick context, I'm the CEO of Adialante. A company that will bring MRI to all.]
At the start of the year, we expected a major grant, but the government, suddenly, paused it. Leaving us with 1–2 months of runway for an unknown amount of time.
In these moments, there's three things you need to do, in this order:
Tied together, you can face reality as it is and make it through the tough times. I'm proud that even as the accounts approached zero. I leaned on these principles.
Now, I am not perfect. Let's talk about the bad. For almost a decade now, I have been obsessed with improving my character and tolerance for adversity. It has led me to do many many crazy adventures. Like running 32 miles through a Minneapolis rainstorm after my ultramarathon was cancelled for COVID. Since I could remember, I was always in growth mode.
But, during moments of low runway, you cannot be in growth mode. You need to be focused and operating at the highest level you can. I made the mistake of continuing to train physically, running on fumes, when what I needed to be doing was sleeping well, eating well, and drawing all my energy on the problem at hand. In one phrase: focus on the challenge at hand.
If 2025 was like any other year, I would have done both: the extreme physical training and guiding us through the fire. I know my strength. But when you stretch yourself in such an extreme way, you leave yourself vulnerable to life.
At the end of January, my father almost died from sepsis. I hopped on a plane to Chicago. Although he would have a full recovery, this stress coupled with our runway ticking under 1 month and a norovirus infection... well temporarily broke me.
I was admitted to the hospital delirious, drenched in sweat, unable to walk, and suffering the first of many migraines that year. Doctors are unsure what happened, but the consensus has come to be the physical stress from my training, emotional stress from life, and the viral stress from norovirus triggered what was referred to as "an inflammatory cascade".
I was admitted to the hospital, but my job didn't end. It was Friday, and we had ~1 week of runway. Our partners and I found a major lead: a pivot to software licensing and our first customer (unheard of for a young medtech company). We chased the contract and closed it. We were waiting on the first transfer. There, from the hospital bed, I was calling our co-founder and others emphasizing we NEEDED the transfer.
It came. And we never missed a payroll.
This month scarred me. It left me with chronic migraines (4–7 a month), leg neuropathy, and a slew of other smaller symptoms. But even in the hospital bed, we never gave up. Life forced us to achieve something unheard of. Life said be great or fail. We chose the former.
My health episode forced me to listen and recalibrate. Now, 10 months later, my migraines are near zero (thank you AJOVY), and I am able to work the long days I need. I have also retired as a marathon/ultramarathon runner, and I am a better CEO for it. This job, this opportunity, requires all of me. I respect its duty and responsibility. I take it seriously.
What followed was a string of wins. We were awarded an NSF Phase II $1.18M grant, pushed annual revenues close to $400k, and secured an additional $700k of investment.
After being through the fire, we now had the room to challenge our core assumptions and look to the future. We met with the team. We looked inwards.
We did not start Adialante to become a small firm. We did not start Adialante to become an incremental innovation. We started Adialante to change things. To reshape what MRI could be, to ACTUALLY solve the problem of MRI accessibility. We're not in this to raise money, we're in this to build something fucking incredible that will defy the odds.
So, in the middle of the year, we doubled down. We'd been through the fire, survived, and decided we still would not give in. We'd win no matter the costs.
I felt rejuvenated, proud, and ready for the fight to come. No matter what it was. And it came.
I am who I am. A Mexican-American first-generation whose life is built on the hard work of my family. My parents immigrated from México, and I grew up in Little Village, Chicago. The exact neighborhood where ICE raids began. The neighborhood where my mother's school would routinely go into lockdown as ICE raids interrupted classes. These raids directly threatened my family, me, and my community.
Moments like these are meant to break us, to force submission. But not us. Resistance, in the right person, creates strength. My community would not break, and I would not lose focus. My success in spite of these raids will prove they will lose. They are fools if they don't think we know how to fight.
My brother texts me a video. I get off a plane. Helicopters in Little Village. They've come for the street vendors. My parents are carrying their passports. They point a gun at my brother during a protest. I walk into my meeting.
Nearing the end of the year, I've learned my lessons. I build health and energy to drive my focus. I'm no longer obsessed with breaking myself to build strength. I know that I have enough of it now. I've switched my focus to driving all my energy, habits, and time toward being the best CEO I can be.
I believe in principles over plans. Especially in company building, where you are fundamentally trying to create something from nothing. To do that, you need to run into the grey, feel your way through the chaos, and let your principles guide you.
These are the principles I keep from this year:
I thank 2025 for giving me the raw material of growth. 2026 is going to be an incredible year for Adialante. It will be built on the lessons learned from 2025.
— Efraín Torres