Chasing Stones, Finding Purpose: My Journey Toward UTMB 2026

I’m trying to qualify for the UTMB finals in 2026. That’s the short version — the easy answer when people ask why I signed up for four UTMB races in a single year.

But the long version? It’s a sprawling tale of curiosity, missteps, leg cramps, poorly fitting shoes, and a kind of stubborn joy that keeps me lacing up for the next one.

Photo by Patrick Boucher on Unsplash

UTMB 2026 Finals has become a target for me.

Not a random goal picked from thin air but one that grew naturally, almost sneakily, out of a series of small what-if moments that started back in 2024. At the time, I wasn’t planning for any grand UTMB qualification; I just saw a 50K race happening in Singapore and thought, maybe I could try that. I’d done a few full marathons before, so the idea of extending that distance a bit didn’t sound impossible — maybe just mildly ridiculous.

The 2024 Beginning: Curiosity and a 50K Surprise

It’s funny how small decisions turn into big ones. That particular 50K race in Singapore happened to fall early the morning after a dinner gathering with friends. I had to leave the party earlier than usual, and naturally, that raised eyebrows. Everyone assumed I was being the old man of the group — needing an early night because I was too “healthy” or too “boring.” But when I explained that I was running a 50K ultra the next morning, the reaction shifted immediately. Suddenly, I wasn’t the uncle who couldn’t stay past 10 p.m. — I was the weirdo doing something hardcore. Well-wishes poured in, and it did feel nice but that wasn’t what pushed me into the race.

It was curiosity. Pure and simple. I wanted to know what 50 kilometers felt like. How would I refuel? How much hydration would I need? Would people be using poles — and if I brought them, would I look ridiculous running across Singapore with trekking poles in hand? Those were the kinds of questions I was chewing on. Curiosity turned out to be the best motivator I could ask for.

That first 50K went reasonably well, all things considered. It wasn’t pretty — there were moments I questioned my sanity and moments I realized I had absolutely no idea what I was doing — but I finished. More importantly, I came out of it wanting more. That’s how these things start, right? One small adventure, one successful test of limits, and suddenly you’re scrolling through race calendars at midnight.

The Next Step: Xiamen by UTMB 2025

After UTSG Singapore 50K, I decided I wanted to do an international event. So I signed up for the 2025 Ultra-Trail Xiamen by UTMB race. Honestly, my motivation was part running, part travel. I wanted an excuse for a short getaway, a bit of adventure in a cooler climate, and maybe a chance to meet up with friends in Shenzhen. I imagined it’d be a scenic jog followed by some good food and train hopping. How hard could it be?

Turns out — very hard.

The terrain and elevation in Xiamen completely destroyed me. I severely underestimated how much vertical climbing was involved. My legs cramped up badly around the halfway mark, and worse yet, I hadn’t packed salt tablets. Rookie mistake. Walking downhill on cramping legs is a special kind of torture that words don’t quite capture — it’s equal parts pain, disbelief, and regret. By the end, I limped across the finish line after close to twelve hours, disappointed but realistic. The truth was obvious: I wasn’t prepared. But the lesson? Priceless.

That race changed my approach to training. I realized that running flat marathons or my usual Macritchie trails wouldn’t cut it anymore. Ultra-trail running was a completely different game — one that demanded respect for elevation, heat, nutrition, and recovery. I needed more than stubbornness. I needed strategy.

Adjusting the Plan: Elevation, Heat, and Recovery

After Xiamen, I decided to go big on elevation training. I started adding hill repeats, strength work, and proper long runs into my schedule. The next event on my calendar was the Malaysia Ultra Trail. Compared to Xiamen, Malaysia was kind. The course was still challenging, but it felt manageable thanks to the lessons I’d learned. The main enemy this time wasn’t elevation — it was the heat.

Running in Malaysia means running inside a sauna. I didn’t have an ice bag or any cooling gear, and by midday the sun was brutal. I managed without cramps this time, which was a huge win, but I messed up another detail: shoe fit. They turned out a tad too tight for the distance, and by the end I had blisters that looked like small science experiments. Another lesson logged.

So, shoes — check. Cooling — next. That became the plan for my next stop: the Lake Toba by UTMB race.

A Hot-Lake Adventure: Lake Toba

Lake Toba felt different from the previous races. There’s something surreal about running around one of the world’s largest volcanic lakes, surrounded by mist and lush green slopes. It’s the kind of view that reminds you why you choose to suffer this way voluntarily.

I came in better prepared this time. I had an ice bag (a small but mighty tool for hot ultras), and it made an enormous difference. I felt strong and sharp, even under the heat.

The blisters, though — they still found me. Despite taping, toe socks, all the protective gear, a few new ones formed. But that’s the nature of ultras. The body finds new ways to protest, and you find new ways to adapt. After all, finishing with a few battle scars feels almost like tradition.

The Big Stage: Chiang Mai by UTMB

All these races were leading up to my main target for the year — the Chiang Mai by UTMB race. A “double stones” event and one of the biggest UTMB gatherings in the region, it had everything: an electric expo atmosphere, countless booths selling gear, hydration packs, nutrition gels, you name it. The crowd was full of passionate runners — different languages, different backgrounds, same wide-eyed determination.

Chiang Mai felt like a celebration. A physical test, yes, but also a vibrant community experience. The course was tough and beautiful, climbing into cool mountain forests before diving back into the humid lowlands. My preparation finally paid off — better shoes, proper salt intake, and smart pacing.

Still, I couldn’t shake a small feeling that it could’ve been even better if the SG running groups had a more coordinated post-race gathering. With everyone running different distances and start times, it was tricky to find the right moments to connect and listen to each other’s stories. But that’s just logistics.

The bigger picture was clear: I completed four UTMB races in one year, earned (hopefully) enough stones for my goal, and saw massive improvement from where I began.

The Bigger Picture: Why UTMB Finals 2026 Matters

So here I am now — focused on qualifying for UTMB Finals in 2026. The UTMB finals, held around Mont Blanc, are often called the “Olympics of trail running.”

Just being there, surrounded by runners from all corners of the world, is a dream. For many ultrarunners, it’s the ultimate test — not just of endurance, but of preparation, patience, and passion. That’s my target now. Not an ego-driven pursuit, but a deeply personal one — a benchmark to see how far this journey has brought me.

And here’s what I’ve learned along the way: when you set a genuine goal, your mind quietly begins working backward from it. You start noticing opportunities, solutions, and ways to build toward it without forcing things. I didn’t plan to run four races this year as part of some spreadsheet strategy. I just followed curiosity, stayed open to challenges, and adapted each time I stumbled. The process unfolded naturally, step by imperfect step.

Learning Through the Process

Each race exposed weak spots I couldn’t have discovered any other way. Xiamen taught me humility and the importance of electrolytes. Malaysia showed me the price of underestimating heat and shoe fit. Lake Toba taught me the power of cooling, pacing, and staying calm in discomfort. Chiang Mai reminded me that community and joy are just as important as performance.

You can’t learn these things in theory. Reading race reports or watching YouTube recaps doesn’t compare to actually being out there, sweating, cramping, laughing, and questioning your decisions halfway through a climb. Every mistake becomes a teacher. Every bout of pain brings perspective. It’s cliché but true — the process is the purpose.

Curiosity, Challenge, and Flow

If I think about the pattern of this whole two-year journey, it follows three simple steps — something I now see applies not just to running but to life in general.

First, find something you genuinely enjoy doing. It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else. It doesn’t have to be “productive” or impressive. For me, it was running — or more accurately, testing how far curiosity could carry me across trails, terrains, and sometimes pain thresholds.

Second, set a goal. A proper target gives the effort direction. Too small, and there’s no fire; too big, and it feels impossible. The UTMB finals in 2026 are my perfect middle ground — exciting, motivating, just a little crazy.

Third, let things flow. Don’t over-engineer it. Prepare, but don’t strangle the process with rigidity. Allow room for improvisation, mistakes, recalibration. The best parts of this journey happened when plans didn’t go smoothly — cramped legs forcing me to reflect, floods of sweat teaching me to improvise cooling strategies. You adapt, you learn, and the puzzle starts making sense over time.

Redefining “The Finish Line”

One of the most liberating realizations I’ve had is that the finish line is not the finish. It’s just a checkpoint. A milestone that marks progress, not completion. We often think of goals like UTMB finals qualification as the endgame, but truth is, they’re transitional — gateways to something else, maybe sharper training discipline, maybe deeper self-understanding, or simply another opportunity to explore new places with old friends.

When I cross that line in Chamonix someday, it won’t be about time or position. It’ll be a moment to look back on the path that led there — the early bedtimes before local races, the long climbs in Xiamen, the melting trail sections in Malaysia, the laughter at Lake Toba, the excitement of the Chiang Mai expo. All of it adds up, piece by piece, forming a mosaic of experiences that mean far more than any medal or qualification slot.

The Internal Game

Training for UTMB is as much mental as it is physical. You spend countless hours alone, running humid loops under a punishing sun, training your mind to stay steady.

Sometimes motivation disappears. Other days you feel like floating.

It’s a cycle of highs and lows that mirrors life itself. When I’m deep into an ultra, the mind goes quiet. The chatter — the “why are you doing this?” — fades away. What’s left is focus, rhythm, breath.

That silence is addictive. It’s not about escaping the world; it’s about tuning into it more completely. The sensory awareness that comes when you’ve run for eight hours is strange — the air feels denser, the sound of footsteps sharper, and even pain becomes just another sensation to manage. It’s a state that makes you feel alive in the simplest, rawest way possible.

The Purpose Behind the Target

If someone asks why UTMB specifically, I could say it’s because of the prestige, the view of Mont Blanc, the history of the race — but that’s only part of it. The deeper reason is that setting a high-reaching goal like that multiplies personal growth. It’s not about the mountain — it’s about what climbing toward it reveals along the way.

Committing to UTMB Finals 2026 forces me to refine habits, stay disciplined, and nudge my boundaries. It gives structure but also sparks creativity. To figure out nutrition, I experiment with fuel blends. To prepare for weather, I study how different runners adapt to heat and altitude. Each new problem becomes an invitation to learn, and every solution opens another door.

Looking Ahead

Now that I’ve wrapped up four UTMB races in a year, I sit with a healthy mix of satisfaction and curiosity about what’s next. I’ll keep tweaking — maybe experiment with gear weight, pacing strategies, or nighttime trail runs. I also want to see how to get better at post-race recovery and group coordination. One consistent theme across these adventures is that running might look like a solo sport but is deeply communal. The stories, the shared suffering, the inside jokes at aid stations — those are what give the miles their meaning.

And as for UTMB 2026 — I’m not nervous. More excited than anything. Whether I make the finals or not, this journey has already changed me. The small tweaks, the failed experiments, the sweaty, salty breakthroughs — they’ve shaped the person I’m becoming.

Because in the end, that’s what all of this is about: finding something that lights your curiosity, challenging yourself enough to keep it interesting, and letting life unfold around that pursuit. The UTMB Finals might be the goal, but the real reward is the process — the day-by-day learning, the stories, and the joy of knowing you’re still growing.

So yes, I’m trying to qualify for UTMB Finals in 2026. But really, I’m just continuing the experiment that started with a 50K curiosity back in 2024 — to see how far a bit of wonder, persistence, and slightly foolish optimism can take me.