Why Not Run 100km? Hosted By Mount 2 Coast

The humidity hit like a wall before I even reached the start line. May in Hong Kong is wet season, which means the air doesn't just sit on your skin, it wraps around it, squeezes it, roasts it. I had paced the first 60km carefully, threading the runnable trails of Hong Kong Island along the HK50 route, tracing the perimeter where urban jungle meets actual jungle. I felt strong. Controlled. Ready.

Then the ferry deposited me in Kowloon, and the city swallowed my focus whole.

Volunteers flagged a last-minute route change. New markings. New directions. I nodded, absorbed the instructions, and stepped into the chaos of Kowloon—sprawling parking lots, train station arteries, the sheer business of a city that never pauses. Within minutes I was lost. Not metaphorically. Actually, concretely lost, circling sitting areas and peering at signs that suddenly meant nothing.

My GPS watch became my second pulse. I kept glancing at it, watching the breadcrumb trail blur and reform, wondering what happens to a runner in a 100km race when the technology fails. The thought wouldn't leave me. I had prepared for blisters, cramps, dehydration. I had not prepared for disorientation.

Earlier that week, two students at work had taught me a phrase I never expected to use. Standing in that Kowloon parking lot, I recognized it on a directional sign—beach path . I followed it. A polite pedestrian confirmed the direction. The path reappeared.

I have never been more grateful for accidental vocabulary lessons.

The second half of the race became something else entirely. Running through Hong Kong from dawn through dusk, I watched the city shift—morning tai chi in parks, midday commerce in narrow streets, evening neon reflecting off harbor water. The distance I traveled became embedded in my mind, yes, but the experiences layered on top of it: the panic of being lost, the relief of being found, the gratitude of volunteers who stayed late, the kindness of a stranger who didn't need to stop but did.

By the finish, I understood something I hadn't at the start. Ultra running doesn't transcend distance by conquering it. It transcends distance by letting the distance change you.

What's Next

Mount 2 Coast will host another activation, and I'll be there. Not because the distance demands it, but because the experiences do. Hong Kong gave me a 100km education in humility, navigation, and the unexpected utility of workplace small talk. I am still processing what that means for the next start line.

See you out there.

—Scott