In December 2025, I stood on the start line of Chiang Mai by UTMB. Nine hours, 51 minutes and 39 seconds later, I crossed the finish line in second place, and with a direct ticket to the 2026 UTMB World Series Finals.
A year earlier, I couldn’t run at all.
My return to the UTMB series was marked by a surprising calm. My approach this year was conservative. I let go of obsessing over position, focussing instead on a steady comeback. Disappearing for while allowed me to come back as a different runner.
Eruption after Jeju
Looking back, the turbulent year started even before my win at Jeju Island. During winter training in Yunnan, my body had already sent signals. Like many athletes, I dismissed fatigue and soreness as part of the process. It’s hard to distinguish between “training soreness” and “hidden injury”, and I had a staunch mentality of pushing through the pain. Despite this, at Jeju Island I felt unstoppable. Yet, after the race I was in so much pain. I initially put it down to muscle fatigue, but it hadn’t subsided after two weeks of rest. I knew something wasn’t right.
I started the 2025 Hong Kong 100 anyway. My unresolved injury and I battled through the first half, but in the latter half of the race a growing heaviness made it clear I wasn’t in true form. At the 70km mark I heard I was still in the top ten. The same stubborn mindset that got me through winter training kicked in. I remember thinking, “I’ve come this far - I must hold on.”
I finished 8th. Looking back, my support crew recall noticing my altered gait as early as CP6. “He wasn’t moving with his usual lightness. There was a slight limp. We knew the injury was taking its toll.”
That race taught me that the body cannot be forced. I felt powerless. The pain was no longer just a warning, it was a mandate to stop. After two career defining results, I had to accept reality. I could no longer run.
Starting at Wutong Mountain
Unlike many athletes, I started late. My trail running journey only began in 2019.
My first race was a half marathon. I was casually invited by a friend and thought “why not?”. I ran a 1:30 without any real training. From there running remained a hobby. Evenings were for runs, and weekends were for hiking Wutong Mountain and Dayan Ding, which slowly drew me into the trail community.
I met Shenzhen’s local trail group, the Ye Lang Team, and was in awe of the runners finishing 100km under 14 hours. I trained with them for fun, and with a touch of curiosity… if they could do it, maybe I could too.
My first 50km race was the 2021 Chongyi International Trail Race. It exposed me to the professional scene, and the world of ITRA points. Seeing athletes with 800+ scores while I landed in the 700s created a bit of a spark… could I reach 800?
Through my running group, I joined the Outopia HK100 team. A 4th-place finish caught the brand’s eye, and by March, I officially joined the Outopia Team. Supported by the brand, I quit my job and moved to Kunming for three months of focused, high-altitude training. My monthly mileage jumped to 700km. I followed Coach Liu Yang’s plans, learning as I went. I took it all in and I worked hard.
On the last few repeats of an interval session you would feel like throwing up, hill repeats at 2000 meters above sea level are a different beast. It was mental training as much as physical, and I knew this mindset would help me in racing.
From my first mountain runs in 2019 to my Jeju victory in 2024, I transformed from a weekend enthusiast to a professional runner. But, that rapid ascent didn’t come without a cost. The inevitable obstacle of injury.
A dual balance
I still don’t really see myself as a professional runner. More a dedicated one. My role as Outopia’s Community Manager in Shenzhen kept me involved with the world of trail running while I was deep in rehab.
Twice a week, I led group trail runs. The pace was gentle, well within my healing body’s limits. This work provided structure, and it was a good distraction from my recovery. When I finished work, the rehab began.
My mountain training was replaced with indoor bike sessions. It’s incredibly monotonous, peddling perhaps a hundred kilometres inside my apartment. Weekly physiotherapy is painful. The stagnation required more resilience and willpower than the hill climbs ever did.
The long grind
After six months, rehab began to show results - but the process was tougher than I imagined. A hopeful return to training in April 2025 only lasted a week before old pain resurfaced. It became a draining cycle: rehab, feel better, train, relapse. During this period I wondered if I would ever race again.
My physiotherapist emphasised the importance of “recovery through running”. Complete rest wouldn’t fix it. I stopped chasing a fully pain-free state and started running with more awareness, letting my muscles adapt with every kilometre.
By late 2025, I began a series of “pressure tests”: Chongli (70km), Ninghai by UTMB (60km), and Tsaigu (50km). The goal was to actively not chase podiums, but to observe my body under strain. And it worked. I was slowly reclaiming my rhythm. By the time I reached Chiang Mai, I was starting to feel like my body was my own again.
The strong finisher returns
I’m typically a slow starter, the second half of the race is usually where I come into my own. In Chiang Mai, humidity made the first half a struggle. I held 5th place, steady and deliberate.
Assessing the situation carefully, I knew I had to stay within my comfort zone so that I didn’t crash later on. I was calculated, efficient, and after five checkpoints, I found that familiar rhythm. It was like something clicked. The strong finisher in me returned. I began to chase, picking off positions one by one.
Final time: 9:51:39. Second place. An unplanned result, and the perfect reward for a year of mental and physical rebuilding.
Finding a Sustained Rhythm
Life after Chiang Mai returned to its familiar routine. I am organising community runs, trail seminars and store events. The pace is different from the aggressive lead up to race day, but I’m finding calm in the steady, sustainable beat.
I’ve let go of obsessive training cycles and am trying to find more balance. Life and racing have to exist together, not in competition with each other. I still think about crossing that finish line often, and the fact I qualified for the 2026 UTMB World Series Finals… it feels like a natural bookend to this chapter.
It’s been a real journey since my first forays into the mountains as a delivery driver in 2019. I’ve learnt a lot - how to listen to my body, run with awareness and what I want to prioritise. I’m still excited about racing, but what is even more important is standing healthy and whole at every start line, and for every community run.
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