Running home

Last weekend, I finished a half marathon in my beautiful hometown, Đà Nẵng. Crossing the finish line marked a milestone in my journey.

Five months ago, I was suffering from chronic neck pain and sleep disorder from overworking myself. I saw doctors, got MRIs, tried every treatments I could find. Nothing worked. By chance, I came across a chiropractor in town. In our first session, he spent a full two hours examining me, asking about my work, my sleep, and my lifestyle. I had never met a doctor who treated me like a whole person. A day later, he sent a 5-page report listing everything that could be wrong in my lifestyle, along with a few key suggestions. That day changed the course of my life. After many failed attempts to fix my routines, I committed to prioritizing my physical health above everything else this time.

I started with my sleep schedule. Instead of setting an alarm to wake up, I set one to go to bed at 10pm. This anchored my sleep at the right time every day. Waking up naturally to the sunrise became the best feeling. No more dragging myself out of bed exhausted. Then I started eating healthier and moving more.

In January, after writing my new year post, I decided to sign up for a half marathon. At the time, 4km was enough to make me stop. But I signed up anyway, partly to see how far I could go, and partly because I needed an excuse to travel to my hometown. I only had 2 months to prepare.

Training taught me a lot about my miracle body. For two months, I completed every single training run without fail. Despite many years of trying to practice meditation, running had made me more aware of my body than anything else. The one or two days I slipped on my sleep schedule, I felt it immediately in my performance. I cancelled hangouts just to sleep early for the next morning’s run.

After each and every run, my mind became clear and my body felt lighter. Better sleep led to stronger runs, which led to better sleep again. It felt like a reinforcing loop. I kept feeling stronger over the course of 2 months.

The act of running a half marathon isn’t just running a 21km route. It’s the result of commitments, disciplines, and many tradeoffs I had to prioritize along the way.

I ran past chợ Hàn (market) where my mom had worked as a tailor since she was 16. I ran past the site of my high school which was demolished to build the Dragon bridge. The last 5km ran along the beach where I had spent so many summer mornings with my family and friends.

I kept on running but I couldn’t hold my tears. After many years and many ups and downs, I’m finally back on my strong feet. It felt like Đà Nẵng hadn’t aged, or like the city had been waiting for me to come back alive and strong.

Đà Nẵng, thank you for having me back.