"IF I walk into any function, you'll notice me. I guarantee it!" says Datuk Seri Dr Vincent Tiew with a self-assured grin, his bespectacled eyes twinkling. Dressed in a sharp coat and pink shirt, he has a presence that's hard to miss — a mix of business formality with just enough flair to stand out.
"You're right. It's impossible to ignore you," I tell him, and he chuckles, clearly enjoying the exchange.
At 48, Tiew is a seasoned figure in property development. As the executive director of branding, sales and marketing for KL Wellness City, he's closely tied to the ambitious wellness township taking shape in Bukit Jalil.
Yet, today's conversation is meant to be different: No corporate pitches or project updates. Even so, it's impossible to ignore the context: we're sitting in the KL Wellness City sales gallery, just steps away from the 10.7ha construction site.
The clanging, whirring and humming of machinery outside filter through the gallery, a constant reminder of the scale of the project. As I wait for Tiew, his assistants offer glimpses into his achievements. "These are his Ironman certificates," one says, placing them in front of me like trophies.
Another presents the Malaysia Book of Records certificate, recognising him as the entrepreneur who completed the most Ironman competitions — 11 in just 24 months. Fresh from completing his 12th in Australia, Tiew somehow finds time for interviews amid his gruelling schedule.
It's been a whirlwind morning for the businessman. Fresh from another interview, ours is his second back-to-back — and it's not even midday. "Sorry I'm late," he apologises as he sits down.
When I suggest steering away from work talk, his smile widens. "Oh, I've got a story to tell," he says, leaning in. It's hard not to be drawn in by his energy, and I'm ready to hear whatever comes next.
"I come from Klang," Tiew begins, and I perk up immediately. Ah, something in common. For a few minutes, we chat animatedly about Klang — the quirks, the memories, the shared familiarity of a place that still feels like home. Small towns are like that, effortlessly bridging gaps between strangers.
"I wasn't confident at all back then. I was a shy, timid boy," he confides, adding: "So quiet that I barely spoke to anyone. Honestly, I doubt most people from school even remember me."
His gaze shifts slightly, the edges of his usual composure softening as he revisits those early years. There's no trace of self-pity, just an understated honesty about a childhood that feels worlds away from the man sitting in front of me now.
EARLY YEARS
He grew up in a humble household. His father was a fishmonger and his mother sold chicken at a small wet market in Southern Park, Klang. "We were super poor," he tells me unabashedly.
Tiew doesn't shy away from the truth: he was, by his own admission, a mediocre student. "Nothing about me stood out. In fact, I don't think any teacher remembers me at all. I didn't have the confidence to speak to anyone," he says plainly.
He recalls how he avoided helping his parents at the wet market, unlike his siblings. "I struck a deal with them," he reveals, adding: "I promised to do my best in school and stay out of trouble if they let me off that duty!"
The journey was far from easy, and a few moments remain etched in his memory. One stands out vividly: the day he missed the school bus after losing track of time playing with friends.
Left with no other choice, the 10-year-old had to walk the six kilometres from High School in Jalan Meru to his home in Southern Park. "I was terrified to be alone," he recalls, adding: "I had no way of getting home, so I just walked and walked and walked."
When he finally reached home, there was no grand reception, no dramatic ending. "I entered the house, went upstairs, had a bath and ate my dinner," he says matter-of-factly. It was then he realised a simple, but profound truth: "If I didn't figure things out for myself, no one else would."
Though an average student, Tiew thrived in extra-curriculars like taekwondo and badminton. But his true passion was dancing. A favourite escape, it made him shine at school events. "I loved dancing because I didn't have to talk to anyone!" he jokes, recalling the joy it brought him.
Being financially strapped however, meant he often had to go without. "I remember having to borrow a badminton racquet from a friend just to play," he recalls. But one moment lingers, forever imprinted in his mind.
Just hours before a school badminton tournament, his father arrived at the school with a brand-new racquet in hand. "I remember that so clearly," he says, voice tinged with emotion. "My father, who struggled so much to provide for our family, found a way to buy me a racquet."
From a young age, Tiew mastered juggling responsibilities, attending two schools simultaneously — one national, the other a private Chinese school. Each day was a whirlwind: a quick lunch, a change of badges and a dash to the next campus. It was gruelling, but it forged his resilience and adaptability.
"I'm grateful that my parents wanted me to have a strong grasp of Mandarin," Tiew reflects, adding: "Many of my Chinese friends can't speak it fluently, and I think that's a shame. These days, you even see Malaysians from other races sending their children to Chinese schools because they recognise the value of learning the language."
COLLEGE YEARS
Tiew understood early on that education was his way out of poverty, but the challenges were overwhelming. "I remember taking my parents to a college," he recounts. "As we were looking at the fee structure, my father turned to me and said, 'I'm only a fishmonger. I can't afford this.'"
The words hit hard. Both his parents were already working two jobs each just to keep the family afloat. "It was tough to hear," he says quietly, "but it struck a chord. I knew I had to break the cycle and achieve something — not just for myself, but also for my family."
What made it even more disheartening was running into former schoolmates already happily enrolled at the college. "It was one of the lowest points of my life," he admits, adding: "But at that moment, I made a critical decision: in everything I did, I wanted to be number one. I never wanted to be poor or left behind again."
In 1994, Tiew enrolled at Tuanku Abdul Rahman (TAR) College to pursue a Certificate in Accounting with Business Computing. The fees, he recalls, were manageable. "At just RM1,200 per year and RM70 for room and utilities, it was a fraction of what my friends were paying in private colleges," he shares.
The savings allowed him to invest in a second course, the Chartered Institute of Marketing diploma programme, which he completed part-time over two years. Balancing both courses required discipline, but it was a calculated move to maximise his opportunities without over-burdening his family.
College was where Tiew truly came into his own. The struggles of his early years had instilled a resilience that now propelled him forward. Once shy and introverted, he transformed into a confident, extroverted go-getter, quickly becoming one of the college's brightest stars. "I learnt to swim at the deep end," he reflects, adding: "Everything I picked up during those tough years finally became useful."
SHINING STAR
Buoyed by his college success, Tiew set his sights on furthering his education. At just 19, he took a job as an education consultant, earning enough in commissions to fully fund his MBA. Remarkably, he completed the programme with distinction before turning 22.
While his peers were just stepping into the workforce, Tiew had already secured a managerial position. By the time he celebrated his 26th birthday, he'd risen to become the general manager of a publicly listed company.
Tiew's ascent up the corporate ladder was nothing short of meteoric. For the ambitious young man, there was no turning back. "I'm always on the fast track," he declares with conviction. Reflecting on his journey, he adds: "I decided early on that I must achieve at 20 what others accomplish by 30. By 30, I should reach milestones that most people achieve only by 40."
This philosophy of pushing boundaries and setting aggressive goals became the cornerstone of Tiew's career. He approached every opportunity with a sense of urgency and purpose, driven by an unwavering belief in his ability to outperform expectations. "Time is precious," he explains, "and I wanted to make the most of every moment to stay ahead of the curve."
PASSION AND PERSEVERANCE
By his own admission, Tiew's relentless focus on work in his early years came at a cost — his health. Long hours and a demanding schedule left little time for self-care, and his weight steadily climbed. "I was so consumed by my goals that I didn't prioritise my well-being," he reflects.
Determined to take charge, he committed to a disciplined diet and fitness regime. Within a year, he achieved a remarkable transformation, shedding an impressive 32kg. His renewed energy and confidence not only improved his health, but also reignited his passion for dance.
Since then, Tiew has danced in numerous programmes and events, embracing the art form with enthusiasm. "I enjoy it," he says, chuckling, adding: "Not many entrepreneurs or businessmen take to the dance floor, but I do. I love every moment of it!"
The father-of-three began embracing a more active lifestyle during the Covid-19 pandemic, finding joy in activities he'd never considered before. Gradually, his enthusiasm grew, and he began participating in marathons, each one bringing him closer to a new version of himself — stronger, fitter and more determined.
By Nov 4, 2022, he faced his greatest challenge yet — his first full Ironman, one of the world's toughest endurance races. It began with a gruelling 3.86-kilometre swim, followed by a 180.25km cycle, and ended with a 42.2km marathon. It was a relentless test of both body and mind.
"It was disastrous!" he exclaims, recalling his first triathlon with a mixture of horror and humour. The event, held in Langkawi, was plagued by flooding, forcing him to hoist his bicycle onto his shoulders and wade through floodwater. "I managed to complete it in just under 16 hours," he says, though the ordeal was far from over.
By the time he staggered into his hotel room, exhaustion had taken its toll. As he peeled off his soaked socks, he discovered to his horror that his skin came off with them. "I ended up crawling to the bathroom on all fours," he recalls, wincing at the memory.
Behind him, a trail of blood marked every inch of his path — a vivid reminder of just how punishing his first Ironman experience had been. Yet, despite the pain, he wears the memory like a badge of honour, a testament to his perseverance.
Twelve triathlons later, there's no turning back. Tiew has accomplished what few dare to pursue, transitioning from a young professional who achieved success early in his career to a relentless athlete, pushing his limits at triathlon events around the globe.
"It's possible to do the impossible, which is why I resonate so deeply with the Ironman tagline, 'Impossible is Nothing'," he says, adding with conviction: "Dream big, but don't just dream. You've got to have clear goals and take action."
For Tiew, the journey isn't just about completing races; it's about proving that with determination and effort, boundaries can be broken and the extraordinary can become reality.
As I step away from the sprawling gallery, he's already commanding attention in yet another interview, his voice cutting through the hum of activity with unshakable confidence. He wasn't exaggerating when he said it — you simply can't ignore him.
With his blend of determination, self-assurance and a knack for leaving an impression, it's clear he's not just someone who stands out; he's someone who demands notice. Whether it's in a boardroom, dancing with abandon or pushing his limits in a gruelling triathlon, one thing is certain: the world will be watching.