The alarm rang earlier than usual.
It was Monday, the first official day back to the office after Tet holiday in Vietnam. The city felt slightly slower, like it was still stretching after a long nap. I lay in bed for a few seconds, listening to the quiet, knowing the year had truly begun again.
Mondays are usually my rest day from training. My coach gives me that little window to breathe, to stretch, to do yoga instead of chasing pace or heart rate. So I rolled out my mat, moved slowly, and let my body wake up gently.
Sharing Vietnamese Tradition at the Office
Before heading to work, I checked my bag again. Inside were dozens of little red envelopes.
In Vietnam, giving lucky money during Tet is more than a gesture. It is a wish for prosperity, health, and good fortune. It is how we say, “I hope your year is kind to you.”
Many of my colleagues are not Vietnamese. So when I walked into the office and started handing out red envelopes, their faces lit up with surprise.
“Is this for me?”
“Yes,” I smiled. “Chúc mừng năm mới! (Happy New Year in Vietnamese)”
It seems like a small thing. But in that moment, I felt deeply grateful to share part of my culture with them. Culture connects us. It opens doors to conversations. It reminds us that work is not just about deadlines and meetings. It is about people.
I gave envelopes to my friends as well. Their laughter, their curiosity, their joy, it made my morning.
And yet, the day was busy. Very busy.
The Reality of the First Monday Back
By 6:30 PM, I was still working.
I had ambitious plans for what I would complete on my first day back. As usual, I did not finish everything on my list. Instead, the day was filled with conversations, updates, catching up, and small fires to put out.
Sometimes productivity does not look like crossing tasks off a checklist. Sometimes it looks like reconnecting, listening, and adjusting.
Still, there is always that voice inside whispering, “You could have done more.”
Do you hear that voice too?
I am learning to soften it.
Because the evening was waiting for me, and it was not going to be light.
The Weight of UWC Scholarship Decisions
After work, I made myself a cup of tea.
It has become a small ritual before our UWC selection committee meetings. A pause. A breath. A reminder of the responsibility ahead.
For the past seven months, our team has been reviewing applications, interviewing students, reading essays filled with hope and courage. Tonight, we were making final decisions.
We only have a limited number of scholarships.
And that reality hurts.
Every single student we interviewed was brilliant in their own way. Passionate. Resilient. Thoughtful. Some had grown up without parents. Some had lost family members. Some were carrying burdens that I cannot even imagine at their age.
And yet, they showed up with dreams.
They built community projects. They volunteered. They studied hard. They spoke about peace, education, justice, and kindness.
Sitting there with my team, going case by case, I felt humbled.
If you have ever had to choose between good and good, you know how painful that is.
Remembering My Own UWC Journey
As we discussed each candidate, I saw a younger version of myself in them.
When I went to UWC, my life changed. Not because it was easy. But because it taught me to live with intention.
It taught me to:
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Live with dreams and passion
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Lead with kindness
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Be curious about the world
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Stand strong in my values
Tonight, I realized something quietly beautiful.
I am not only giving back. I am also learning.
These students remind me of courage. They remind me of purpose. They remind me that even in difficult circumstances, you can choose to create impact.
I do not know if I would have been as strong as some of them at that age.
That thought humbles me deeply.
The Privilege of Responsibility
It can be challenging to decide scholarship recipients.
You know that once they step into UWC, their lives will shift. New cultures. New friends. New ways of thinking. It will stretch them.
It stretched me.
With that awareness comes responsibility. We are, in some way, shaping futures.
But I also remind myself, we are not controlling their destiny. We are opening a door. They will walk through it with their own strength.
After hours of discussion, reflection, and sometimes disagreement, we made our decisions by around 10 PM.
Offers will be sent out in the next few days.
Seven months of work. Interviews. Group activities. Late-night meetings.
And now, a new chapter begins for them.
And for us.
Four Weeks Until Race Day
As if the day was not full enough, I checked my training plan for the week.
Every Monday, my coach sends the schedule. And every Monday, I feel two things at the same time.
Excitement. And nerves.
There are only four weeks left until my first race of the year.
Four weeks.
I looked at the sessions ahead. They look challenging. There is still so much I want to improve. My endurance. My pacing. My mental strength.
It feels similar to work and volunteering.
There is always more to do.
Always a higher standard.
Always a better version of yourself waiting somewhere ahead.
But this week is special.
Running With My New Pacer
I am officially starting my first full week working with my new pacer Tracy.
We ran together once last week during my long run. She is experienced, kind, and observant. During our run, she checked my heart rate. She reminded me to drink water. She made sure I did not push too hard.
It is such a simple thing. But having someone run beside you changes everything.
Running alone builds resilience. Running with someone builds connection.
She reminds me of friends who have trained with me in the past. The ones who gently tell me to keep my ego in check. The ones who stay steady when I want to sprint too soon.
I feel grateful for her.
Grateful that at this stage of my life, I am surrounded by people who push me, support me, and care.
The Journey of Constant Improvement
When I reflect on this Monday, I see a theme.
Responsibility.
Gratitude.
Growth.
At work, I am learning to balance ambition with patience.
In volunteering, I am learning to carry responsibility with humility.
In sport, I am learning to push limits while respecting my body.
Sometimes I feel nervous. Sometimes I feel behind. Sometimes I feel like I am juggling too many roles.
But then I pause and ask myself:
Isn’t this what growth feels like?
Not perfect. Not smooth. But intentional.
There is a quiet beauty in knowing that you are trying your best in different areas of your life. Even when you fall short. Even when you are tired.
Living With Intention
The students we selected reminded me of something powerful.
You can live with intention at any age.
You can choose kindness.
You can choose effort.
You can choose to build something meaningful, even when life is unfair.
As I prepare for race day, as I prepare to send out scholarship offers, as I prepare for another busy week at work, I hold onto one thought:
It is a privilege to care.
To care about your job. To care about your community. To care about your health.
Not everyone gets that chance.
So tonight, even with a long to-do list waiting for me tomorrow, I feel calm.
Grateful for the red envelopes that made people smile.
Grateful for the students who trusted us with their dreams.
Grateful for my coach and my pacer who believe I can run faster and stronger.
And grateful for this journey of constant improvement.