Waking up at 4:30 a.m. feels both heroic and slightly insane.
Last weekend, my little brother and I did exactly that. The sky was still dark. The air was quiet. Ho Chi Minh City had not fully opened its eyes yet. And there we were, packing our bags, half sleepy but fully committed, heading to a training camp in Bàu Trắng, Binh Thuận.
I had been looking forward to this running camp for a long time.
Not just because I have a race in Bàu Trắng in three weeks. But because I knew I needed it. I needed to test myself. To feel the wind. To see where I truly stand.
That was me, stepping into this weekend.
Arriving at the Edge of the Ocean
After three and a half hours of traveling, we arrived. Ocean on one side. Sand dunes on the other. Wide sky. Open space.
My heart felt light immediately.
There is something healing about nature. Something grounding about being next to the sea. I had not done open water swimming since May 2025. That is almost a year away from the ocean.
And open water is never the same as the swimming pool.
In the pool, everything is controlled. Clear lanes. Calm water. Predictable turns. You know where the wall is. You know where you are.
Open water is different.
The waves decide. The wind decides. The current decides. And sometimes, the person next to you decides when you get kicked in the face.
As I stepped into the ocean that afternoon, my body felt a little shocked. The water moved differently. My breathing had to adapt. I had to let go of control.
It reminded me so much of life.
You can prepare perfectly in the swimming pool. Train your technique. Count your strokes. Master your breathing. But once you enter open water, anything can happen.
And that is the real test.
The First Lesson: You Cannot Control Everything
Swimming in the ocean forced me to surrender.
I could not control the waves. I could not control how close people swam next to me. I could not control if someone’s elbow hit my goggles.
All I could control was my response.
Stay calm. Focus on breathing. Find rhythm. Trust your training.
Isn’t that life too?
We plan our careers. Our relationships. Our futures. We prepare in controlled environments. Then suddenly something unexpected hits us. A setback. A criticism. A delay.
And we feel like we got kicked in the face.
The ocean does not care about your ego. It just keeps moving.
That afternoon swim reminded me that strength is not about controlling the environment. It is about staying steady within it.
Learning from a Gold Medalist
Saturday evening, we had a sharing session with Mr. Trí, a recent Asian Games gold medalist in duathlon.
Sitting there, listening to someone who has competed at that level, I felt both small and inspired.
He spoke about cycling strategy. About managing effort. About not burning out in the first 10 kilometers. About respecting transitions.
Transitions.
I love that word in triathlon. And in life.
You do not just swim. You swim, then transition. You do not just cycle. You cycle, then transition. Every stage requires a shift.
How many times in life do we struggle because we do not transition well?
We carry the stress of work into dinner. We carry yesterday’s mistake into today’s opportunity. We do not pause. We do not reset.
Listening to him, I realized performance is not only about power. It is about awareness.
Key reminder from that session:
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Respect pacing
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Master transitions
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Stay mentally calm
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Execute the basics well
Sometimes high performance is just doing simple things consistently.
Fixing My Own Bike, Fixing My Own Problems
After dinner, one of the senior triathletes held a bike fixing workshop.
How to change a tube. How to fix minor mechanical issues. How to be self-sufficient during a race.
He said something that stayed with me. If you wait for the organizer to fix your bike, you may lose too much time.
That sentence hit deeper than cycling.
In races and in life, you cannot always wait for someone to rescue you.
You need to know how to fix your own bike.
That does not mean you do not ask for help. But it means you do not freeze when something goes wrong.
You act.
How many times have we stayed stuck because we were waiting for someone else to fix our situation?
The training camp reminded me that independence is a skill. And it is trainable.
A Walk on the Beach with My Brother
Later that night, my little brother and I walked along the beach.
The sky was dark. The air was cooler. The waves were softer.
He is heading back to London soon. Big life decisions ahead.
We talked about career paths. About uncertainty. About purpose.
It felt like time slowed down.
Sometimes the most meaningful part of a running camp is not the running. It is the conversations in between.
Watching him think about his future reminded me of my own journey. How uncertain I once felt. How unsure I still sometimes feel.
Have you ever realized you are both strong and still figuring things out at the same time?
That is adulthood.
And that is okay.
Race Simulation Day in Bàu Trắng
Sunday started at 4:30 a.m. again.
Breakfast together. Quiet focus. Warm up under a sky that was slowly turning orange.
The swim started at 6 a.m. The sun rising while we were in the water felt magical.
I swam 1.2 kilometers in the ocean. This time, I felt more relaxed. More confident.
Then came the real test.
Cycling in Bàu Trắng is notorious. Hilly. Windy. Sunny. Unforgiving.
Two and a half hours under the heat.
And that is where I suffered.
The Hills Show You the Truth
The elevation was tough. The wind was strong. The sun did not care about my feelings.
I realized something very clearly.
I have not trained enough on hills.
It is one thing to know your weakness. It is another thing to feel it in your legs.
Every climb felt long. My cadence dropped. My energy fluctuated.
Meanwhile, my little brother rode his motorbike next to me at some points, filming my suffering and sending it to our parents. I was half annoyed, half laughing.
But deep down, I was grateful.
Because hills expose you.
They do not allow shortcuts. They do not allow pretending.
And that is a gift.
What the hills taught me:
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You cannot fake preparation
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Weaknesses show up under pressure
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Discomfort reveals where growth is needed
Instead of feeling discouraged, I felt clear.
Cycling hills is now a priority. Not optional.
Clarity is powerful.
The 10K Run: Finishing Strong
After cycling came the final 10 kilometer run.
Running is my strength. I know it. I feel it.
But I still started slowly.
I reminded myself to respect the pace. To build gradually. To hydrate every 15 minutes. To eat consistently. To take electrolytes seriously.
By the later kilometers, I felt stronger.
There is something beautiful about negative splitting. Starting steady, finishing strong.
It applies beyond running.
Imagine if we approached life like that.
Not burning out in our twenties. Not chasing every opportunity aggressively. But building. Learning. Pacing ourselves.
And then finishing strong.
That run gave me confidence.
Not blind confidence. But informed confidence.
I can complete the race. To do well, I need smarter hill training and higher cadence work.
And that awareness is empowering.
The Power of Intentional Recovery
After lunch, we started the long ride back to Ho Chi Minh City.
Four and a half hours in traffic.
Instead of scrolling mindlessly, I listened to podcasts about business. Continued my audiobook. Reflected quietly.
Training does not only happen during workouts. It happens during recovery. During reflection.
That is something I am learning more deeply.
Growth requires intensity. But it also requires stillness.
What This Running Camp Taught Me
Looking back at this running camp in Bàu Trắng, I feel grateful.
It was not just about performance. It was about awareness.
Here is what I am carrying with me:
1. Open water is like life.
You cannot control everything. You can control your response.
2. Hills expose your preparation.
Weakness is not failure. It is feedback.
3. Transitions matter.
In races and in life, how you move between stages defines your performance.
4. Self-sufficiency builds confidence.
Learn to fix your own bike. Learn to handle your own setbacks.
5. Pace yourself.
Finishing strong feels better than starting fast.
Three Weeks to Go
With the race in Bàu Trắng coming up in three weeks, I feel clearer.
Not perfect. Not fully ready. But clearer.
I know where my strengths are. Running and swimming feel steady.
I know where my weaknesses are. Cycling hills need work.
And knowing is powerful.
Have you ever noticed how fear decreases when clarity increases?
That is how I feel now.
The running camp did not magically make me stronger overnight. But it gave me direction.
And sometimes direction is more valuable than motivation.
