Embedded Files
In life, nothing is impossible if you desire something strongly enough and persist in pursuing it.
March 2025
What Children Need
What a child needs most in this life is probably love. Love helps children become more well-behaved; it teaches them to care about others and plants in their hearts a sense of confidence in themselves. Many unpleasant behaviors such as stubbornness, crying, or breaking things are sometimes nothing more than attempts to get adults’ attention—to be cared for more, to be loved more.
Anyone who has been a mother—especially one who has had two children close in age, or who has had to work or study while her child was still very young—will understand the heartbreak of not having enough time for her child, of seeing her child quietly playing alone. To a baby, a tight hug, a simple “Mom loves you,” a few minutes of talking and sharing before bedtime, or a word of praise all mean far more than expensive toys.
One day, I suddenly realized that my little daughter had begun to have thoughts of her own, and that there were things she no longer shared with her mother (perhaps because she didn’t want to say them, or didn’t know how to express them). I know that as children grow up, this is inevitable, but it still brings an indescribable feeling of sadness and emptiness.
I wish I had all the time in the world, so I could love you the way I want to.
January 2019
Memories of Los Angeles
Los Angeles, to me, is an incredibly special city. It is the place of so many firsts: my first time learning how to drive, my first time hiking, and even my first time attending a live concert of my idol—staying out until 2 a.m.
I became an “accidental” tour guide countless times when relatives came to LA to visit me, and also when international students who enrolled a year after me asked me to show them around. Although I only lived there for just two years, every time I took friends or family around and introduced them to this beautiful city, I felt proud and excited—as if it were my hometown. My inherently “stingy” nature meant that I memorized all the places with free admission, from the Walk of Fame to The Getty Center Museum, and the Griffith Observatory.
I remember the days training for the Ventura Half Marathon. I often ran loops around the Mar Vista neighborhood near where I rented my place for short 3-mile runs, or ran farther into neighboring Culver City when I wanted to change the route. These areas were quite safe, so even running in the evening didn’t make me feel uneasy. My only fear was houses that let their dogs roam freely in the yard without a leash. Every weekend, I would take the bus halfway from home to the beach, then run the remaining half to the shore, carefully calculating the distance so I could meet the day’s mileage while enjoying the longest possible stretch along the beach. There were days when I ran for three hours straight at noon under the scorching sun without bringing any food or water—looking back now, I’m honestly impressed with myself. In LA, if you see someone walking around with an umbrella or a hat to avoid the sun, chances are they’re Asian. When I first arrived, I was also afraid of getting tan, but over time I realized that sun-kissed skin was actually in fashion. Eventually, I even grew to love running under the sun and went so far as to buy tanning lotion to get darker.
If you complain about driving in LA, just wait until you have to find parking—especially if you rent a place in a “hot” neighborhood and have to park on the street. People living in these areas share a constant fear: not being able to find a parking spot, or parking incorrectly and getting fined. Parking spots here are more precious than gold. I’ve seen people willing to sit in their cars for hours, skipping work or other commitments, just to snag a good spot. When I first moved there, I made every possible mistake: parking in the wrong place, overstaying the allowed time, or failing to move the car in time for street cleaning (even if I was late by just one minute). It may sound ridiculous, but if you’ve ever seen parking signs filled with dozens of lines of instructions, you’d understand that parking correctly is no simple task. Each ticket cost close to $100, so those lessons were unforgettable. The only upside of living in a neighborhood with terrible parking was that I became extremely skilled at parallel parking—no assistance needed.
Whenever I felt sad from missing home or after arguing with my boyfriend (it seems those were my only two sources of sadness back then), I would drive myself to Santa Monica and spend the entire day wandering around Third Street Promenade, or simply step into a large Barnes & Noble bookstore to read. That alone was enough to lift my spirits.
LA was also the place where I spent most of my pregnancy on my own. At the time, afraid of the loneliness of my cold, quiet apartment, I would deliberately stay at the university library until late every day, so that when I got home, all I had to do was eat dinner and go straight to bed. Many days I came back exhausted from classes, dealing with morning sickness, with no one by my side to care or share the burden—it felt unbearably lonely.
There are still so many special things about this city that I can’t fully put into words, even though my experiences are probably just a tiny fragment of all that makes LA wonderful. One day in the not-too-distant future, I hope to return—to stroll along the winding, tree-lined Sunset Boulevard, to listen once more to the familiar sound of tires speeding along the freeway. Ah, and I will definitely stop by Blockheads Shave in Little Tokyo to order a cup of their amazing shaved ice.
May 2017
Living with Dreams and Passion
Today, I had the honor of attending the PhD dissertation defense of a female colleague from my department. She completed her doctoral program a full year earlier than the average graduation time. But what impressed everyone the most—earning round after round of applause from the audience, and even prompting her advisor to joke that this should really be written on her CV—was that during this same period, she had been pregnant and had given birth to two children.
Thankfully, I didn’t ask whether she was a runner—otherwise I might have discovered that she runs at a marathon pace of 4 minutes per kilometer, and I probably would have burst into tears from sheer admiration.
Jokes aside, as someone who also studied while giving birth, I understand better than most the hardship and extraordinary effort she must have put in. I was fortunate to receive a great deal of support from both sides of my family, with grandparents helping to care for my child. She, on the other hand, lives only with her husband and two young children, without grandparents nearby or hired help. A woman who succeeds in her career truly deserves to be celebrated two or three times more than a man—because behind the polished appearance at work lies a life of soothing crying children, sleepless nights breastfeeding, dropping children off at school and picking them up again, countless invisible tasks that never seem to end.
More importantly, what I realized is that American society has created and nurtured girls who believe they are capable of doing anything they want—women who can turn the impossible into the possible. I don’t have to look far for examples. My own professor is outstanding academically, yet she willingly spends several hours a day taking her teenage daughter to professional tennis training, fully supporting her if she wants to become a tennis player in the future. Or a young woman I recently met, who studied violin as her major throughout four years of college, yet was accepted into UNC Medical School—one of the most prestigious medical schools in the United States.
In Vietnam, there are far too many rules and invisible boundaries imposed on a child from the moment they are born, all the way until they themselves become parents. Girls are told not to pursue too much education; girls nearing 30 who are not married are considered failures; girls are told they cannot both give birth and study well; and that only graduates in medicine or pharmacy can avoid unemployment.
I have two daughters, and I have only one wish: that they find their own passions and pursue them to the very end. Because a life without passion is a life that is bland and colorless.
March 2019
Success Begins with the Smallest Changes
Today, while killing time during a drive, I listened to a truly impressive TED Talk by speaker Stephen Duneier about how each of us can achieve things we believe to be impossible.
In 2017, I applied to eight top-tier PhD programs in Public Health in the U.S. I was accepted by seven of them, five with full scholarships. When I first started applying, I never imagined I would achieve such results—I only hoped to get into one school, and that would already have been more than enough. The fear of failure, the hesitation caused by having too many things to prepare and too little time, and the comfort of my current life (what people often call the “comfort zone”) all made me want to give up on my dream more than once.
Everything begins with the smallest changes. It started with the very first time I forced myself to stay 30 minutes after work to open my GRE prep books. Gradually, studying became a habit—sitting down at my desk every night at 10 p.m., after my daughter had fallen asleep. It started with the first time I bravely sent an email asking to study under a well-known professor (who surely had no idea who I was) at a faraway university. Then the second email, the third, became easier, until I had sent more than 20 emails to different schools—even though the number of replies I received could be counted on one hand.
Running is no different. I started running in 2014, back when I could only manage 3 kilometers at a time, at a turtle-like pace of 8–9 minutes per kilometer. After quite a long journey—and after having two little kids—I have now begun training for my first full marathon of 42 kilometers at the end of this year. What I’ve achieved may seem very ordinary to many people, but the small progress I make each day gives me a sense of pride and the motivation to pursue even bigger dreams.
True success does not lie at the finish line. It lies in the simplest actions and habits you plant every day—in the moment you stop scrolling through Facebook, put your phone down, and open a book (if your goal is to read one book a month), or when you slip your feet into your running shoes (if your goal is to run a half marathon by the end of the year).
No matter how big your ambition is, success begins the moment you overcome your inertia and fear of failure, and take that very first step.
August 2019
Have You Found Your Soulmate?
How should “soulmate” be translated accurately into Vietnamese? “Tri kỷ” sounds a bit old-fashioned, and not very romantic either. But just type this keyword into Google or YouTube, and you’ll find countless articles and videos offering checklists for identifying a “true” soulmate, or tips on how to tell whether someone is your soulmate after one month of dating… things like that (of course, I’ve tried looking them up too).
Do you believe that each of us can find a soulmate in this life? Do you believe that once you find that person, you’ll be happy forever—guaranteed to always be loved, understood, and empathized with no matter what happens? I think this way of thinking can be somewhat dangerous. Imagine that after a few years of living with your soulmate, you begin to realize that perhaps you made a big mistake, and this person is not actually your soulmate after all. Then you might conclude that you were just unlucky, and that you need to start over. Because all the problems between the two of you must be due to the fact that you didn’t find the right person—right? And the only solution, then, would be to find someone else. But if you believe that there is no such thing as a soulmate, and that you yourself are responsible for your own happiness, then you’ll surely have more reasons and motivation to change and to try harder.
I think placing all of your happiness in another person’s hands is truly a huge burden for that person to carry. A few years ago, my husband and I once went into a bank together. After working with the teller for a while, my husband stood up and left first. The staff member then whispered to me, “Your husband really loves you. You’re very lucky.” I felt happy and proud at that moment. But I understand that nothing lasts forever, and it’s also unreasonable to expect one person to do it all: to work hard to support the family, to remain sweet and romantic like in the early days of love, to stay neat and tidy, to take good care of the children, and on top of all that, to be like a best girlfriend who listens and shares whenever I’m feeling down. I think very few people could manage all that for even one week—let alone for decades without ever changing (if you happen to find someone like that, hold on tight).
Recently, I came across a philosophy in Buddhism that I find very meaningful: focusing too much on oneself is the root of all suffering. To be happier, instead of focusing on ourselves, we should focus on others. Instead of thinking about what we lack or how we’re not being cared for enough, perhaps we should think about how we can care more for the people around us. The other day, when the supermarket was very crowded, I noticed a man in a wheelchair who was lower than everyone else. He had to keep lifting himself up just to see which checkout line was shorter. I walked around, found the shortest line for him, and let him go ahead of me to check out first. He smiled brightly, and after paying, he even bought an extra pastry for me and said, “Thank you, you are a very nice person.” Human beings are truly strange—just one small act of kindness toward a stranger can make us feel happy for the entire day.
September 2019
Discipline and Persistence
Training for your dream body, to me, feels a lot like trying to win over a beautiful, aloof girl (she has to be aloof—just being beautiful isn’t enough). You show care and attention consistently, without missing a single day. One month passes, then three months—she still doesn’t fall for you. But you keep shamelessly showing up like that for a whole year. On day 366, if you suddenly don’t appear, she’ll definitely miss you. (I’m just joking here—I have no real experience; anyone who’s good at flirting, please confirm whether this is true!)
Back to the main topic: exercise. When it comes to training, I think we should be clear from the start—either don’t work out at all to save time, or be prepared to invest a lot of hours (hundreds of hours, at least) and train consistently week after week to see a noticeable difference. Of course, exercising a little is still better for your health than not exercising at all. But here I’m talking about visible changes—the kind most of us hope for. The problem is that after one month of working out with no obvious results, we tend to quit, believing that this method doesn’t work. That’s why gyms are always the most crowded at the beginning of the year, right after everyone writes their New Year’s resolutions with fiery enthusiasm. Yet consistency is the most important factor, no matter what your goal is.
In The E-Myth, Michael Gerber once said that there are always two opposing people inside each of us: the fat guy and the skinny guy. The fat guy will invite you to sit in front of the TV for hours eating popcorn, saying things like, “It’s cold and rainy outside—only a crazy person would put on running shoes and go out now. Isn’t sleeping in way more comfortable?” On the other hand, the skinny guy will shout “Don’t!” when he sees you about to eat fried food, and will make you feel guilty for skipping a workout. Everyone is the same—we all have moments of weakness in front of good food and warm blankets, and moments of sky-high determination when inspired by others. So perhaps you’d want to become best friends with that skinny guy, letting his discipline become an inseparable part of who you are.
October 2019
What Rights Do Children Have?
Do children have the right to have their parents buy them the toys and clothes they really like, simply because they deserve it within the family’s means? Do children have the right to have their parents do their homework forasl them, or clean up their toys for them, because parents would rather do it themselves than spend time reminding, scolding, or even begging? Do children have the right to have adults indulge all of their wishes (most of which are unreasonable), just because every parent wants their child to be happy?
I asked myself these questions one day when I realized that my daughter had become the king of the house (quite literally). If Dad, Mom, Grandpa, or Grandma dared to go against her wishes, she would scream—and then her parents would say that as long as she behaved and stopped crying, she would get what she wanted. If she was upset with her parents, she would only agree to sleep with Grandma; and if Grandma didn’t indulge her, she would only talk to Mom and Dad. Many nights, lying in bed, I would even find myself worrying about her old toys, trying to think of what new ones to buy so she wouldn’t get bored at home.
The truth is, the Earth does not revolve around my child. Treating children as if they are the center of the universe will do more harm than good in the long run. Children who grow up as kings in their families often struggle to adapt to the harsh realities of society and to integrate with the people around them. I believe there is only one truly essential right that every child must have: the right to be loved by their parents and to have their parents’ time. Love and time—these do not mean excessive indulgence or constant service.
For the past few months, Mimi and I have had a small agreement: every day, I give her my full attention and presence for 15 minutes. Mimi gets to choose what we do during those 15 minutes, as long as it doesn’t involve electronic devices. It may not sound like much time, but it makes a big difference. Every day, Mimi eagerly plans in advance what activity she will choose for her “Special Time.” She looks forward to the moment when Mom belongs only to her—no phone, no attention to her sibling, to Dad, or to anything else. Even if we’ve already played plenty together during the day, if I don’t put my phone away, set a 15-minute timer, and announce, “Special Time starts now,” she absolutely refuses to go to bed until she gets her “Special Time.” Only then did I truly understand how important a parent’s attention is to a child.
In the photo is our special time from last night. Mimi simply took out a few books and spread them on the floor, and we played “Bookstore.” She was the shop owner, introducing the books, and I was the customer. That was all it took for her to be completely absorbed—the 15 minutes flew by in the blink of an eye.
April 2020
Postpartum Training
Each time I give birth to another child, I feel that losing weight becomes a little harder, and my physical strength weakens a little more.
I don’t believe in advertisements for fat-burning gels or machines that claim to melt fat using this wave or that technology (unless it’s surgical body contouring). To achieve a balanced, healthy body, there is really only one way: trading for it with sweat from training and discipline in your diet—making sure that calories in are fewer than calories out. For me, running is the most effective method. Over the past few months, I’ve been running about 80–100 kilometers per month. It’s nothing impressive—barely equal to one week’s mileage of the guy who shares my bed—but I’ve found that it helps reduce body fat very quickly. In addition, I do core exercises on YouTube. I usually spend just 10 minutes a day to help firm up my abdominal muscles.
I don’t expect to ever return to the body I had before giving birth, but I remain persistent and committed to achieving the healthiest body I possibly can.
June 2023
Running Is a Mind Game
In the Chạy 365 group, there are so many hardcore runners—men running full marathons sub-3, women sub-3:30—that sometimes I hesitate to share my tracklog because my performance isn’t anything outstanding. But then I realized that runners who are slower (like me, for example) probably make up the majority. So today, I’d like to bravely share my experience of running sub-2 at the recent Huế Half Marathon.
My goal for the Huế race was simply to run for fun, enjoy the excitement of a race atmosphere, and bring home a medal to show my son. To be honest, this was the worst training cycle I’ve ever had. My longest run was only 17 km, my highest weekly mileage was 25 km, and I did absolutely no speed workouts. I truly believed sub-2 was impossible, because it had been a long time since I could run under pace 6 in training. On weekend long runs around the lake, I hadn’t managed to stick with the 6:30 pace group all the way through without stopping.
It wasn’t until Saturday night, right before bed, that I checked the pacer list. I planned to follow the sub-2:15 group, if there was one. But there were only two pacer groups: sub-2:30 and sub-2—nothing in between. So I shrugged and thought I’d just try to follow the sub-2 group and see how far I could go.
On Sunday morning, I woke up at 2 a.m. even though the race didn’t start until 4. In the past, I would have been quite stressed about the lack of sleep, but this time I thought that even if I slept one more hour, my result probably wouldn’t change much. As long as I got at least four hours of sleep, it should be enough for my body to be ready for the race. I arrived at the starting line 15 minutes before the start, but that was already too late to squeeze toward the front. I didn’t care about being in photos or running at the very front, but I wanted to stay close to the pacers—and all the pacers were clustered at the front. It took me nearly 10 minutes to weave my way forward, and when I was still about 10 meters from the start line, I simply couldn’t push any further. In overseas races, pacers are usually spread out at different distances from the start line depending on pace. In Vietnam, if you want to follow a pacer, you probably need to arrive even earlier (or know the organizers well enough to slip to the front).
After the start, it took me almost 5 minutes to catch up with the sub-2 group. That meant that during the first 1–2 km, I was running about 20 seconds per kilometer faster than my target pace—which is definitely not ideal if you want a negative split. The beginning was extremely crowded, especially around the pacers, with people jostling for position. Trying to run faster was nearly impossible. On top of that, many runners kept darting in and out near the barriers, and I was almost knocked over a few times. I had to stay very focused—if there had been potholes, or if in the dark I had clipped the barriers, a fall would have been hard to avoid. Worse still, someone else could have fallen into me. I barely got any nice photos like runners who were much faster or much slower, because I was always stuck behind a pack of 10–20 people. But that was fine—I already have plenty of running photos anyway.
I once read that the human brain can’t clearly distinguish between what is actually happening and what we are merely imagining. Repeated thoughts can therefore become “reality” to the mind. So throughout the entire time I was sticking with the pacers, I kept repeating to myself: “This is just a long run around the lake. This pace is easy. There’s nothing hard about it.” Every time I thought that, I felt noticeably less tired. And once I made it to kilometer 14, I started chanting a new mantra: “With my strength, I can definitely finish sub-2. Even if I die, I have to stick with these pacers—do not drop.”
When there were about 3 km left, I felt that I still had energy, so I decided to surge and go all out to the finish. I asked the pacers if there were any more hills ahead so I could manage my effort, and they said there was just one small bridge left. As I surged, I heard the pacers loudly warning the group: “Guys, DO NOT follow this runner—she’s running faster than target pace!” A funny moment happened about 500 meters from the finish, when I was crossing a bridge and saw a photographer packing up his camera. When he saw me running past, he hurriedly pulled it out and shouted, “Hey you, come back so I can take your photo!” He was so enthusiastic and kind—but at that point I was sprinting to the finish. How could I possibly turn back to take photos, sir? 😭
In the end, I finished with a time of 1:57, cutting 2 minutes off my PR despite barely training. I’m not encouraging anyone to train lazily, but I truly felt the power of the mind on race day—it can help you achieve things you once believed were impossible.
April 2025
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