Thank You 2025

2025 was meaningful in quiet ways. This year taught me the importance of slowing down and being more present. 

Runs that kept me steady.

Time with family that truly mattered. Travels that reminded me how big the world is. 

I am grateful for the kindness, love, and everyone I met this year. Even the brief conversations, shared moments, and quiet support meant more than you’ll ever know. 

Ending the year with gratitude, and carrying these moments forward into whatever comes next ☺️ 

May x

Putting Some Dates on the Calendar

I didn’t announce anything.

No dramatic goals.

No “this is my year” declaration.

After sharing how my running journey started and where I am now, this felt like the right next step. Nothing loud. Nothing flashy. Just giving my running a bit of direction again.

AI-generated image 

All three runs on the calendar are ballot races. I know how lucky I am to even get a spot, so I’m genuinely grateful. No expectations, no entitlement. I'm just thankful for the chance to stand on those starting lines.

Putting these dates down isn’t about making big promises. It’s about giving myself direction without pressure. Training steadily. Respecting my body. Allowing recovery. Accepting that some weeks will be better than others.

There may be a few more races along the way if one becomes available and timing allows. No fixed plans. Just joining when it feels right.

For now, it’s simply about showing up and seeing where the road takes me.

May x

Reflections from My 2025 Races

2025 wasn’t a big race year for me. I only participated in 4 running events.

And for a while, that felt… small.

But not to forget, I took part in #Global6KForWaterSG, clocking 694.69km from Sept to Nov 2025, and raised some funds along the way. Knowing that every kilometre represented something bigger than myself made it meaningful. 🫶🏻

Looking back, this year wasn’t about chasing medals or filling up a race calendar. It was about staying connected to running, keeping the habit alive, and simply showing up.

Every run, whether in an event or not, reminded me of why I started. Not gonna lie, keeping momentum isn’t easy. I do have a big, fat lazy worm in me 😅.

2025 reminded me that progress doesn’t always look loud. Not about numbers. Not about speed. Just the simple joy of finishing the run and enjoying the race.

It’s been 4 years since my lifestyle changed. I moved, I left, and with remote work and frequent travel, it hasn’t been easy to build a regular running circle like before. I miss the days when every run, every event, and even evening jogs in the park meant seeing familiar faces.

So I’m really hoping to slowly get back into the running community — to meet new people, exchange running tips, and learn from each other along the way. Hopefully, with the power of the digital world, we’ll find each other. 

May x

My Running Journey

I wasn’t athletic when I was young. I loved running, but I was never fast enough to compete properly. The only “competitions” I joined were school sports days, running for my house. That was about it.

After I started working, keeping fit wasn’t a priority at all. Exercise wasn’t even in my dictionary. Running? Training? A healthy lifestyle? I didn’t think about any of that. Life was about work, getting things done, and moving on to the next thing.

I started running again in 2012 with my 🐷 sister and her friend, our adik bongbongsu. My first run was a 10km race. No training. I honestly thought, “How hard can 10km be?” Trust me — it was brutal. My legs were so sore I walked like a crab for days.

But somehow, I went back for more. Slowly, my sister and I continued this running journey together. She has always been my biggest motivator to keep running. My second race — again, with no proper training — was 17km. Painful, tiring, uncomfortable… yet I started to enjoy these little tortures and challenges. Our motto back then was “lambat janji sampai” — and I added “dan selamat”. Years ago, there were quite a lot of accidents during races. It was scary. Finishing safely mattered more than speed.

I couldn’t fully commit to running at that time because I was doing my degree and later my master’s, mostly on weekends. But once I completed my studies in 2016, I ran whenever I could. Weekends became running days. I met many running friends through events. I even flew to nearby “overseas” destinations just to run, because there weren’t many running events in Penang back then. I was addicted.

There were podium finishes at small races. The excitement. The community. The routine.

Then COVID happened. Everything stopped. We were locked inside our homes. I lost my running momentum. I lost touch with my running friends. When things slowly opened up again, work took over. My job demanded more time and presence, and running became my way to release stress rather than something competitive. Events no longer crossed my mind — I never knew where I would be in a few months’ time anyway.

I still enjoy running a lot. Training matters. Friends matter. Having people around you makes a difference — you push each other, encourage each other, and show up together. Most of those friends are now on their own paths, and that’s okay. Fair play to them. I’ve been away from home for a long time since COVID. I left Penang. I left Malaysia.

Running stayed — just in a different form.

Age is catching up — I feel it. Recovery takes longer. Niggles don’t disappear overnight. I’m not as fearless as I was in my twenties, and I don’t bounce back the same way anymore. But I also know myself better now.

I don’t want to run aimlessly anymore. I want objectives. I want goals. Not to prove anything to anyone. Not to chase podiums. But to give my running a direction again — something to work towards, something that makes me show up even on days when motivation is low.

This comeback isn’t about being faster than others. It’s about being consistent with myself. Training smarter. Respecting my body. Setting realistic targets — whether that’s finishing strong, improving endurance, staying injury-free, or simply showing up week after week.

I’ve learnt that running changes as you age, and that’s okay. These days, my goal is simple — finish the run and enjoy the race. No pressure, no chasing others, just showing up and getting it done.

This comeback is quieter, more intentional, and hopefully more meaningful in its own way.

May x

My First Run in the Brooks Glycerin 22

I’ve been running mostly in the Brooks Ghost range for training and the Launch 8 for events, so trying a different shoe felt like taking a slight step out of my comfort zone. I’m not someone who knows much about running shoes, so switching models usually means I need a bit of reassurance first.

Over the past few years, I’ve tried a few different shoes and some of them ended up causing discomfort and pain in my legs. Coupled with an ankle injury from a year ago, it has made me much more cautious about the shoes I wear. These days, comfort, stability, and how my body feels after the run matter more to me than anything else.

So, I put on my thick skin and reached out to a fellow runner I’ve only chatted with online, the sifu himself, @im_tristupe. Thankfully, he was generous with his advice and explained things in a way that even someone like me could understand. That gave me enough confidence to give the Brooks Glycerin 22 a go.

Brooks Glycerin 22

The explanation that stuck with me was this: DNA Tuned foam.

In simple terms, it’s dual-density cushioning — soft when you’re running slow, and firmer when you pick up the pace. I’ll be honest, I’m still scratching my head trying to fully understand how it works, but the idea made enough sense for me to give it a try.

On paper, it sounded like a shoe that prioritises comfort without feeling dead or overly soft — something that felt suitable for where I am right now, especially with an ankle that still needs a bit of care.

I took the Glycerin 22 out for a 10km run and ran over the new Gurney Bridge, a familiar route that allowed me to focus more on how the shoes felt rather than the scenery (though I still ended up taking photos anyway).

Straight away, the comfort stood out. The ride felt smooth, cushioned, and stable. There was no awkward breaking-in phase, which is always a relief. Despite the extra cushioning, the shoe didn’t feel sluggish. It still responded when I increased my pace slightly.

And yes — I did feel a bit taller. The extra foam underfoot provides a subtle lift, which took a few minutes to get used to, but never felt unstable.

What stood out for me after this first run:

• Very comfortable from the start
• Soft and well-cushioned, but still responsive
• A stable ride that gave me some confidence, especially with my ankle

It feels like a shoe that’s more focused on taking care of your legs rather than pushing you to go faster.

Is It a Race Day Shoe? From what I’ve read, the Glycerin 22 probably isn’t the shoe I’d pick if I were chasing a PB on race day. It leans more towards comfort than speed.

That said, I’m not chasing a PB for a while until I’m ready again. So in my case, it feels like one stone hits two birds (literally, not real birds). It works well for training, could still handle race day if needed, and I don’t feel pressured to buy another pair just for speed. That alone saves some money.

Unless I have a sponsor — then having another pair wouldn’t be a problem. 😅

This is only my first run and just 10km, so these are very early thoughts. I’m not making any big claims yet. Shoes tend to reveal their true personality after more mileage — longer runs, tired legs, and different paces.

For now, the Brooks Glycerin 22 feels like a comfortable and sensible choice that matches where I am in my running journey — cautious, healing, and focused on consistency rather than speed. I’ll share more once I’ve spent more miles in them.

If you’ve run in the Glycerin range, feel free to share your thoughts.

May x

Mindful Running: Small Acts Matter

I recently came across a race clip shared by a runfluencer. Later, I had a casual chat with another runner who had reposted it on social media. I usually don’t watch clips all the way through, but that day — helped by Instagram’s x2 fast-forward — I did. And it made me pause.

It got me thinking about something we rarely talk about: how we use hydration stations during races.

Image created by ChatGPT

In the image, which I recreated using AI, a runner grabs a cup of water and splashes it over himself. Totally relatable. Anyone who has raced in the heat knows how desperate that moment feels. Cooling down can feel like survival.

But here’s the part that made me stop.

Hydration stations are hectic. Sweaty runners rush in, their hands moving fast, as cups are everywhere. The water being splashed often comes from the cups meant for drinking. And just a step behind that runner, volunteers are carefully setting up cups for hundreds — sometimes thousands — of runners still to come.

From the front of the pack, this probably looks normal. Efficient. Quick. No time to think.

From further back, it looks… different.

Sweat, water, and fast-moving hands are happening right next to cups that others are about to drink from. And honestly, I don’t want to drink your sweat. I believe most runners wouldn’t want to either.

Perhaps this stood out even more because not long ago, we were all far more conscious of hygiene. COVID-19 changed how we thought about shared spaces, contact, and cleanliness. For a while, we were careful, especially with things near our mouths. As races returned and life felt normal again, that awareness quietly faded.

I’m not saying we need to panic or race in fear. However, a bit of mindfulness around hygiene, particularly at shared points like hydration stations, still matters.

To be clear, this isn’t about blaming fast runners or calling anyone out. Racing at speed is intense, and decisions are made in split seconds.

I’m a runner too... just not an elite or front-packer. I experience races from the middle or back of the pack, where hydration stations are more crowded, slower, and sometimes chaotic. Maybe that perspective is why this stood out to me.

It made me wonder:

• Can we be a bit more mindful at water stations?
• Is there a way to cool down without affecting drinking water meant for others?
• Can race etiquette include hygiene too — not just pacing and racing lines?

I know saying this might invite comments like “then don’t race” or “just stay home." But that’s not the point.

Hydration stations are shared spaces. They rely heavily on volunteers who show up early, stand for hours, and do their best to support every runner — fast or slow. A small action at the front can create a ripple effect further down the course.

Just a gentle note to fellow runners, please don’t cancel me 😅 I’m not here to judge, shame, or act like I know better. I’m simply sharing what I observed, and how it made me think a little deeper about race etiquette and consideration for others.

If this post makes even one person pause for half a second at the next water station, then it’s done its job.

Running may be individual, but races are communal.

And sometimes, awareness starts with noticing the small things.

May x

Up High, Doing the Hard and Dirty Work

Watching from my unit today, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of awe and gratitude.

Over 20 floors up, workers were on a gondola, blasting our building walls with high-pressure water to get ready for a fresh coat of paint. Our block is almost 40 storeys — and seeing them handle this “dirty job” so steadily, rain or shine, really hit me.

Most of them are foreign workers. It’s the kind of work nobody notices, nobody thanks them for, and honestly, it’s not considered glamorous or professional. But someone has to do it. And it matters.

I had a short chat with one of them — he’s been here for seven years and says he loves Penang. It reminded me that behind every wall we take for granted, in our building or anywhere else, there are people dedicating their sweat and courage.

Next time anyone looks up at a building or property, I hope they’ll think of these workers — and appreciate the work they do.

May x