Hi from New York & happy Sunday! Keeping it simple this weekend with a recap of my time in Berlin. If you’re only here for the needlepoint, I get it— skip to the end ☺
Berlin Recap
Berlin fucking rocks. Excuse my French.
I went on the trip with somewhat low expectations. Despite having a well-documented love of traveling and being alone—probably rooted in living in China at 16 without any adult supervision—I was nervous about being solo for the marathon. Something about carb-loading the night before, waking up alone on race day, running without support on the sidelines, crossing the finish line without seeing family or friends, and sitting down to a celebratory meal by myself felt lonely in a way that made my insides ache.
But that all dissipated on arrival. Flowers were waiting in my hotel room from BCS and her partner—the sweetest and most thoughtful gesture that immediately had me in tears, the happy kind. From there, the city pulled me in: gorgeous weather (cough until marathon day), bread rivaling the bakeries of Paris and Copenhagen, and coffee shops hidden in ivy-covered courtyards between stretches of brutalist buildings.
The first morning, I grabbed a bun and cheese at Acid and settled into a cozy corner with a view of the kitchen and my needlepoint. My former intern from many moons ago, now all grown up and running Berlin too, had spotted me stitching in the window and ran in to say hi. “I knew it had to be you,” she laughed. (guilty as charged!) Later that day, between wandering the city, visiting the expo, and dinner at Cafe Frieda, I managed to bump into some five other friends from Brooklyn. So much for being alone. On Saturday, I linked up with two guys from my Maman crew for pre-race bánh mì. It was so good to see them, and the sandwich was incredible — please go eat here!! Everywhere I turned, there was connection, community, and comfort. What had I been so worried about?
Still, the night before the race, nerves set in. The forecast called for heat—28°C / 82°F—and I had a big PR in mind. My previous best was also set in Berlin, and while I knew the course and had logged plenty of training miles in New York’s oppressive summer heat, my coach had warned me it probably wasn’t the right day to push for a PB. Originally, our plan looked like this:
A goal: 3:20:00
B goal: 3:25:00
C goal: 3:30:00
D goal: PR???
E goal: finishhhhhhh
The day before the race, he wrote out a detailed race strategy:
It’s going to be hot, which may slow things down by 5–15 seconds per mile (or more later in the race). Be smart early—respect the heat, pace yourself, and adjust if needed to, that can save the day!First 5K (0–3 miles)Settle in. Target around 8:00 per mile (5:00 per km). If this feels harder than it should, scale back immediately. The goal at this stage is patience, not forcing pace. Be aware of people around you, it’s going to be packed!5K–30K (3–18 miles)Go to sleep. Lock into rhythm and click off even splits. Stay smooth, efficient, and patient. Save energy for the final 12K. As we talked about, it would be great if you could work down to 7:45 for this stretch, but let’s target that loosely. Monitor the heat and effort and definitely play it more conservatively. A great race is an even or negative split one!30K–Finish (18–26.2 miles)The make or break part of the race starts here.
If you’re feeling good: begin pressing down gradually, moving closer to original goal pace. If the heat is taking a toll: hold steady, focus on form, and compete with those around you.
Maybe picking up on that pre-race energy, someone surprised me with the loveliest gesture: a slide deck, hastily compiled but hilarious, on the best marathon runners of all time and why I’m supposedly better than them. It was equal parts pep talk, inside joke, and encouragement—and it left me feeling completely seen and loved. I carried that with me to the start line and well beyond.
Race morning was, in a word, hot. No one seemed to be wearing throwaway layers except me. With Raynaud’s, I was terrified of losing feeling in my hands and toes at the start—but I didn’t need to worry about that at all. The corrals were organized, the energy of 55,000 runners was buzzing, and then, suddenly and all at once, the gun went off.
Reads
I finished listening to The Danish Secret to Happy Kids by Helen Russell on the plane ride over. Audiobooks are new to me, and they’ve been game-changing—letting me enjoy two hobbies I’d normally have to choose between: reading and stitching. I sometimes feel like I’m “cheating” my brain out of its practice with language, the same way typing has sidelined handwriting into something quaint, almost debatable in value. I try to resist that in my own life by keeping cursive alive in my journaling and on the sticky notes I leave around my house.
I’m not sure how The Danish Secret to Happy Kids ended up in my Spotify recs, or why I decided to press go, but I’m glad I did. The book unpacks the Danish approach to raising confident, resilient kids: letting them play freely, take risks, fail safely, and grow at their own pace, all within a culture that prizes trust and community.I don’t have kids, but I was struck by how many of those lessons translate to adult life in New York. Trusting the process instead of forcing outcomes. Making space for play and curiosity, especially in a city that rewards productivity (again, guilty as charged!). Building resilience through daily rituals. Getting outside!! And leaning on community as an antidote to isolation.
Audiobooks aren’t a shortcut but simply another tool—a way, like handwriting or going on a run along a new route, to exercise a different part of the brain and to remind oneself that growth doesn’t have to look a certain way.
Honorable mentions: I’m about a quarter of the way through both Wine & War by Donald Kladstrup and Petie Kladstrup, which follows French winemakers protecting their vineyards during WWII, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin, a novel about friendship, creativity, and the bonds formed through building video games.
I’d like to credit this blog for keeping me disciplined. Just like running, it’s one page (one step) at a time.
Works in Progress
I spent a lot of time in Berlin stitching in coffee shops and parks ♡ Right now, I’m working on the Plum Stitchery Mushroom Series. There are seven mushrooms in total, and I’ve stitched the bodies of two and the background of one. I’m planning to finish them as giant fat ornaments. One more step toward my ultimate goal of having an entire Christmas tree decorated in needlepoint.
The first half of the race felt controlled. I even spotted Harry Styles! I locked into my rhythm quickly, hitting my planned splits and feeling strong. I zeroed in on the blue tangent line, determined not to add an extra 500 meters to my total distance like I have in so many other races, and barely looked up from there.
At mile 14, things took a turn. At a crowded water station, I tripped and nearly fell amid a sea of hard plastic cups and hundreds of thirsty marathoners. I felt a sharp pop in my right Achilles—the same one I’d been rehabbing in PT—followed by burning pain shooting through my heel and up my calf. I started crying as panic set in. It really hurt. Word to the wise: do not Google “Achilles rupture” mid-race.
Up until that moment, I’d believed I could outlast the heat, but suddenly my confidence cracked. All my A–D goals flew out the window. I had a choice: DNF or recalibrate. I never seriously considered DNFing. I’d rather crawl across the finish line. If there’s one thing I know about myself, it’s that I’m stubborn. Even though I was in a lot of pain, I decided to keep going—not for a PR anymore, but simply to finish strong and, hopefully, with a smile, aka grimace. Kiddingggg!
The second half was slower, my splits creeping into the 8:20s, but I refused to stop and walk. The heat was brutal and my heel was screaming, but I hung on. When I finally crossed under the Brandenburg Gate and up the final stretch over the finish line, it was with a goofy grin, delirium, and a big PR. Not at all the race I’d planned, but exactly the race I needed.
And because runners are nothing if not a little unhinged, I found myself signing up for the Philly waitlist and the Houston Marathon in January. Back to work for that BQ!! I will earn it one day.
That said, I did have a scare at the Marathon Expo. While trying on a finisher’s jacket, I absentmindedly set my needlepoint bag on a fixture and walked off, totally distracted by the craziness of the expo. I made it all the way through and out of security before realizing. Inside were three partially completed mushrooms and all my threads. My stomach dropped. I think I would’ve preferred losing my passport haha. Thankfully, when I ran back, the bag was still sitting exactly where I’d left it. Not the best way to keep cortisol levels down.
Stitches:
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Mushroom Top: Interlocking Goblin
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Body: Woven Stitch
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Background: Woven Trellis Stitch
Colors:
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Mushroom top: Essentials Pear 723
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Body: Essentials Natural 503, Essentials Shark 512, and Pepper Pot Shitake 010
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Background: Watercoulors Celery 242 — my first time plying and way easier than I thought
Once I learn how to bead, I’ll share a final update on the Olive mushroom, along with all her friends.
Hope you have a lovely weekend and happy stitching.
