Anggriawan Sugianto

A marathon is 42.195 kilometers.

For most runners, it takes 3–4 hours. For me, my personal best is 4 hours 11 minutes 40 seconds—close to a sub-4 target that many runners chase.

But here's what I've learned: a marathon isn't a test of speed. It's a test of pacing, fueling, and mental toughness over sustained effort.

Most runners who miss their marathon goals don't miss them because they lack fitness. They miss them because they made a pacing mistake, a fueling mistake, or a mental mistake.

Understanding the marathon as a strategic problem—not just a running problem—is how you go from missing your goal to hitting it.

Understanding the 42-Kilometer Gap: Where Time Is Lost

My marathon PB is 4:11:40, which averages 5:56/km. My PB 5K is 24:24 (4:52/km pace), and my PB 10K is 52:05 (5:12/km pace).

Based on my VDOT of 39.4, I should be capable of running a marathon at approximately 5:41/km average pace, which would give me a 3:59:00 finish.

That's a 15-second-per-kilometer improvement from my current PB. Over 42 kilometers, that's 10 minutes and 30 seconds.

10 minutes and 30 seconds seems small. But it's not. Here's why:

Where time is lost in a marathon:

Most runners lose time in the second half of the race, typically after kilometer 28–30. This is where fatigue compounds and pacing falls apart.

Let me break down a typical marathon for someone at my fitness level:

• Kilometers 0–10: Feel fresh. Want to run fast. Average pace: 5:30/km (too fast)
• Kilometers 10–21: Still feeling okay. Pace gradually increases with fatigue. Average pace: 5:50/km
• Kilometers 21–32: Fatigue accumulates. This is the hardest section mentally. Average pace: 5:50/km (but feeling much harder)
• Kilometers 32–42: The wall. Everything hurts. Pace slows to 6:15/km

Total time: 4:18

Where did the time go? The first 10 kilometers. By going too fast early (5:30/km when I should have been at 5:41/km), I accumulated fatigue that I couldn't recover from, and the final 10K became a death march.

The correct pacing strategy: Even splits with psychological negative split mindset

My preferred strategy is to run even splits—maintaining consistent pace throughout. But in my mind, I aim for slight negative splits (run slightly faster at the end) to ensure I don't overpace at the beginning.

This mental framework prevents the pacing mistakes:

• Kilometers 0–10: Deliberately hold back. Pace: 5:45/km. Remind yourself: "This feels slow, but that's the point."
• Kilometers 10–21: Settle into your target even pace. Pace: 5:41/km. Feel slightly hard, but controlled.
• Kilometers 21–32: Maintain discipline despite fatigue. Pace: 5:41/km. This is the hardest section mentally—everyone hurts.
• Kilometers 32–42: If you've executed correctly, you have strength left. Pace: 5:41/km (or slightly faster if it comes naturally).

Total time: 3:59:00

The difference between 4:18 and 3:59 isn't fitness. It's pacing discipline and mental strategy.

How to find your marathon target pace:

Your marathon pace should be approximately 25–30 seconds per kilometer slower than your 5K pace. For me:

• 5K PB: 24:24 (4:52/km equivalent pace)
• 10K PB: 52:05 (5:12/km equivalent pace)

Marathon target pace: 5:41/km (calculated from VDOT 39.4)

This is roughly 49 seconds slower than my 5K pace and 29 seconds slower than my 10K pace. This aligns with my VDOT prediction and with my goal.

The silence at 10 PM in Selo, Boyolali is not like other silences. It's not the quiet of sleep. It's thick, wet, and heavy—the kind of quiet that happens when a sleeping volcano is watching you from inside the clouds.

I stood at the start line of Merapi 360°, looked at my watch, then looked down the dark road ahead. Seventy-seven kilometers of asphalt stretched into nothing. No trails. No rocks to trip over. Just me, my shoes, and a giant mountain that hadn't moved in a very long time.

I told myself this would be easy. I told myself wrong.

Running to Finish Line @ Merapi 360º

What I Planned vs. What Happened

I usually run on dirt. I love the rocky climbs of trails, the switchbacks, the way your body has to think about every step. BDG Ultra and Siksorogo Lawu Ultra—those are my home. So I looked at Merapi 360° and thought: This will be simple. Just a road race. A chance to build fitness before my bigger race, BTS Ultra 170K, in a few months.

I thought of it as a training run. Something controlled. Something safe.

The mountain laughed.

The Map That Didn't Match the Road

Before the race, I tried to load the GPS file onto my watch. Amazfit, Coros, Garmin—nothing worked. So I did what I call "GPS laundering": uploaded it to Strava, downloaded it again, and finally got it onto my watch. It worked, but something was wrong with the map.

The GPS showed straight lines between points. The actual road was never straight.

This became a problem at 2 AM, when I was running through Boyolali/Klaten/Sleman in the dark. At every corner, I had to stop and look for a red painted arrow on the road. In the darkness, those arrows were nearly invisible. I would slow down, squint, wonder if I was lost, then see it: a faded red line pointing me forward.

Later, I thought about this. In my business, I see the same thing happen. You have a plan that looks perfect on paper. Clean lines. Clear directions. But when people actually try to use it—when they're tired, scared, and it's 2 AM—the plan falls apart. The arrows that seemed so clear in the office are invisible in real life.

The difference is that when a business plan is broken, people lose money. When a GPS is broken and you're running at night, you lose time. Both hurt, but one is more honest about it.

Most runners have a gap between where they think they are and where they actually are.

It's not malicious. It's not ignorance. It's just how brains work—we're optimistic about ourselves. We remember our good runs and forget the bad ones. We imagine ourselves stronger than we actually are.

But there's a cost to this optimism: you set goals that don't match your current fitness, and you get injured or burned out trying to reach them.

In early 2026, before I committed to the 170K goal, I had to answer an uncomfortable question: Am I actually ready to attempt this, or am I just wishful thinking?

The answer required brutal honesty about where I actually was.

BDG Ultra 100K - My longest run so far.. 30 hours+

VDOT and Training Paces: Your Actual Fitness Level

One of the most useful frameworks for understanding your actual fitness is Ollie Glaspool's VDOT system (popularized by Jack Daniels).

VDOT estimates your VO2 max equivalent based on your recent race performance. It's not a measure of how hard you're trying. It's a measure of what your body can actually do.

My VDOT in mid-2025 was 39.4. This translates to these training paces:

• Easy (Zone 2) = Pace 6:11–6:47/km, HR 140–155 bpm
• Threshold/Tempo = Pace 5:09/km, 165–180 bpm
• Interval (VO2 max) = Pace 4:45/km, HR 180–195 bpm
• Repetition (Speed) = Pace 4:30/km, HR 190–199 bpm

These aren't aspirational. These are based on my actual recent 5K trial performance.

Why VDOT matters:

Most runners run their easy runs too fast and their hard runs not hard enough. This is because:

• Easy runs feel slow, so they speed them up
• Hard runs are hard, so they don't push as hard as they should

VDOT gives you objective paces. When you run 6:11–6:47/km easy, you're building your aerobic base. When you run 5:09/km tempo, you're training your threshold. When you run 4:45/km intervals, you're training VO2 max.

Running slower or faster than these ranges reduces the effectiveness of the training.

How to calculate your VDOT:

• Do a 5K time trial (all-out effort) or use a recent 5K/10K race time
• Plug it into a VDOT calculator (search "Jack Daniels VDOT calculator")
• Get your estimated VDOT and the training paces that go with it
• Update it every 8–12 weeks as your fitness improves

By mid-2025, my VDOT was 39.4, which is solidly aerobic but not elite. This VDOT tells me I'm capable of running a marathon around 3:52–3:55, a 100K around 22–26 hours, and a 170K around 37–44 hours. This was realistic information for goal-setting.

An injury doesn't appear overnight.

It builds. Slowly. Quietly. Usually while you're ignoring the warning signs.

You feel a twinge. You think, "It's nothing, just a little soreness." You keep training.

Two weeks later, the twinge becomes a persistent ache. You think, "Hmm, I should probably address this." You keep training.

Four weeks later, you can't run at your target pace. You think, "Okay, this is a real problem." You finally see someone.

By then, you've lost 6 weeks to deconditioning because you didn't address it when it was a twinge.

Learning to identify red flags—the early warning signs of injury—is how you stay healthy through 170 kilometers of training.

ASICS Running Club 2024

Cardiovascular and Structural Red Flags

There are two categories of red flags: ones that signal overtraining or inadequate recovery, and ones that signal structural problems.

Overtraining Red Flags:

These are signs that your nervous system is fried, your recovery is insufficient, or your training load is too high:

• Elevated resting heart rate: Your baseline RHR is 58 bpm. If it climbs to 64+ bpm consistently over 3+ days (not just one elevated morning), this signals overtraining.
• Crashed HRV: Your baseline HRV is 39. If it drops below 30 for consecutive days, your nervous system is stressed.
• Persistent fatigue: You feel tired even after rest days. Your legs feel heavy. Your motivation is gone.
• Elevated morning heart rate after hard workouts: After a tempo run, your morning HR should return to baseline within 24 hours. If it's still elevated on the second day, you didn't recover.
• Elevated resting heart rate during runs: Your heart rate during easy runs is creeping up. What used to be 145 bpm now requires 155 bpm to maintain the same pace. This signals fatigue accumulation.
• Sleep disruption: You're lying awake. You're waking up frequently. You're not sleeping deeply even though you have 8 hours in bed.
• Mood changes: You're irritable. You're anxious. You're having trouble concentrating.

When I see 3+ of these signs simultaneously, I immediately reduce training intensity (not volume) and prioritize sleep and recovery.

Structural Red Flags:

These are warning signs that something is biomechanically wrong and injury is developing:

• Pain that appears in the same spot consistently: Sharp pain in your left knee on descents, aching in your right shin on long runs—these are structural problems, not just soreness.
• Pain that gets worse over the course of a run: You feel fine at kilometer 10, but by kilometer 25 the pain is significant. This suggests a mechanical problem that accumulates with volume.
• Asymmetrical pain: One leg hurts, the other doesn't. This suggests either an injury on that side or a compensation pattern.
• Pain that doesn't improve within 2 weeks of rest: Normal training soreness should resolve with 2–3 days of reduced intensity. If it persists beyond 2 weeks, it's structural.
• Swelling or visible inflammation: Puffiness around your ankle, knee, or hip. Warmth in the joint. Visible bruising.
• Altered running gait: You're limping slightly. You're shifting weight to one side. You're shortening stride on one leg.
• Pain that wakes you at night: Sleep is usually when inflammation decreases. If pain wakes you, the inflammation is significant.

For me, the most relevant red flag is right plantar fasciitis. I experienced this after the BDG Ultra 64K in 2024, when I ran macadam downhills. The repetitive impact on descent caused heel pain.

My approach to this vulnerability:

When I feel even mild heel pain, I:

1. Reduce impact volume (fewer long runs on hard surfaces)
2. Focus on technical trail running (softer landings, better technique)
3. Do calf stretches and plantar fascia release work
4. Ice if needed

When I see structural red flags, I immediately:

1. Stop running if pain is sharp or worsening
2. Reduce volume if pain is stable but present
3. Get professional assessment if pain persists beyond 2 weeks
4. Follow rehab protocol precisely

I don't ignore it. I don't "run through it." I acknowledge it and adapt my training.

Before you train for 170 kilometers, you need to understand how your body actually moves.

Not how you think it moves. Not how it looks in the mirror. How it actually moves under load, on fatigue, on mountains.

Most runners skip this step. They see a training plan, they start running, and they wonder why they get injured 12 weeks in.

The reason: they never did a baseline assessment.

In 2024, I spent time understanding my movement patterns. Not in a gym. In the real world: on roads, on trails, on mountains, under different conditions.

What I discovered surprised me. I had physical characteristics and movement tendencies I wasn't fully aware of. Asymmetries that would eventually matter if I didn't account for them.

This post is about how to do the same for yourself.

Pocari Sweat Pacers & Sport Science Team 2024

Finding Your Natural Stride and Biomechanical Biases

There's no "perfect" running form. There's your running form. Your unique way of moving based on your body structure, your anatomy, your neuromuscular patterns, and your movement tendencies.

A biomechanical bias is a natural tendency in how you move. For example:

• You might naturally land more on your forefoot even when running easy
• You might have a tendency to overstride on descents
• You might lean forward from your ankles instead of your hips
• You might rotate your hips excessively when climbing
• You might externally rotate one leg more than the other

None of these are "wrong." They're just how your body is built. But if you don't understand them, they can become injury vulnerabilities.

In 2024, I asked for feedback on my running form from the Pocari Sweat Sport Science team when I was pacing in a race. They gave me valuable insights about my movement patterns. 

Later, I also learned that some runners in the community ask Dr. Maria (on Threads) for running form analysis, which is another great resource.

My own patterns:

• My natural cadence: I run at 173–177 steps per minute depending on the distance and effort. In 2025, my road marathons had a cadence around 173 spm (slightly below the often-recommended 180 spm, but efficient for my body). On my 10K race, it was 177 spm (faster pace, naturally higher cadence). This tells me my stride adjusts appropriately to effort level.
• My foot asymmetry: My right foot is 27.1 cm long, while my left foot is 26.9 cm—a 2 mm difference. My left foot is slightly wider than my right. This 2 mm difference might seem tiny, but it can create asymmetries in how I land and propel myself.
• My strength symmetry: I don't know if one leg is significantly stronger than the other. Both feel similarly strong. But I'm aware that I need to address strength training more consistently.
• My descent pattern: I have a tendency to brake excessively on downhills. This is where I see the most room for improvement in my form.

How to find your own patterns:

1. Film yourself running (from the side, from behind) on flat ground, on a hill, on a descent
2. Look for asymmetries (does one leg land differently? does one foot point differently?)
3. Check your foot characteristics (measure your feet; notice width, arch height, toe flexibility)
4. Ask the running community (post videos to group or submit to coaches like Dr. Maria for analysis; others see things you miss)
5. Note what feels easy vs. hard (climbing feels hard, descending feels easier—or vice versa?)
6. Get professional feedback (race organizers sometimes have sport science teams; use them)

Your movement patterns aren't good or bad. They're just data. And data helps you prevent injuries and move efficiently.

The hardest part of being self-coached isn't the training plan.

It's seeing yourself clearly.

You're terrible at this. We all are. We're biased toward believing we're working harder than we are, faster than we are, and smarter than we are.

I completed three 100K races in 2025 and felt like a genius. I told myself: "I've figured it out. I'm ready for 170K."

Then I discussed my data with an AI analysis tool and got honest feedback: "Your pace is inconsistent across the three races. Your fueling strategy showed improvement but still has fragile points. And you've never run sleep-deprived for 30+ hours, which is 50% of the 170K experience."

It stung. But she was right.

I had achieved something real (three 100Ks in eight weeks: BDG 100K in 30h 17m, Trans Jeju 100K in 23h 37m, BTS 100K in 27h 24m), but I'd overestimated my readiness for 170K. My ego had inflated my assessment.

This is why you need external perspective. Not necessarily a coach. A support system.

One of my support systems: CodeRunners IA-IF ITB 2025

Self-Assessment Without Self-Deception

As a self-coached athlete, you can't eliminate bias. But you can manage it by surrounding yourself with people and tools that give you honest feedback.

I built a personal support system for my ultra training. Not a full-time coach. An ecosystem of resources:

The Technology: I use AI tools to analyze my training data, race data, and decisions. AI doesn't have ego or emotional attachment. When I ask, "Is my current training plan realistic for BTS Ultra 170K on November 8?", it gives me objective feedback based on my actual performance metrics. It's like having a wise coach who never sleeps and never gets tired of answering questions.

When I was considering running four 100Ks in 2025, I ran the scenario through AI: training load, recovery capacity, injury risk. The feedback was clear: "Three races is optimal. Four introduces 23% higher injury risk with only marginal fitness gains." I did three instead. Better decision.

The Community: My running community from EPIC Trail. These are people at similar fitness levels running similar races. We share training updates, compare notes, celebrate wins, and most importantly, commiserate about struggles.

When I was discouraged after a mediocre training run, someone from the community said: "One bad run is data. Five bad runs in a pattern. One bad run means nothing." Exactly what I needed to hear.

The Nutritionist: I use telemedicine (Halodoc/GoodDoctor) to consult with nutritionists when I need specific guidance. We've designed my race-day food plan together. I check in occasionally to update it.

When I complained that my stomach couldn't handle real food during runs, she said: "You're trying to eat too much too fast. Practice eating 200 calories per hour, not 400. Train incrementally." Changed everything.

The Strength Coach: I work biweekly with a strength coach from the ASICS Running Club. In a 90-minute session, they assess my movement, identify weaknesses, and prescribe specific exercises. Then I implement them on my own.

When I showed them my ankle instability, he said: "This is your limiting factor, not your aerobic capacity. Fix this first." I did single-leg work for few weeks. My ankle got stronger. My running improved.

Everyone has 24 hours.

But not everyone has the same energy budget.

Energy is different from time. You can have 4 hours free but be mentally exhausted. Or you can have 2 hours free but be completely fresh.

Most busy professionals understand this intuitively. They manage their calendar, they schedule meetings, but they never actually account for the energy cost of those meetings.

Then they try to add 10 hours of ultra training per week on top of it.

And they wonder why they're tired all the time.

As a CEO training for a 170-kilometer ultramarathon in November 2026, this is my central constraint. Not time. Energy.

Sharing Session @ CodeRunners

Time Blocking: Fitting Ultra Training into a 60-Hour Work Week

I run a company with ~200 employees. And I train for 170-kilometer ultramarathons.

People ask me: "How do you find the time?"

The honest answer: I don't find it. I create it. And I do this by treating training like a business priority, not a leisure activity.

Here's my weekly time block:

• Monday: Strength Training
• Tuesday: Easy Run
• Wednesday: Interval Run
• Thursday: Strength Training
• Friday: Threshold Run
• Saturday: Long Trail Run
• Sunday: Back-to-back Run

This is about 10% of my available waking hours. But it's concentrated in early mornings (or late evening) and scheduled like meetings.

The key insight: Most people don't lack time. They lack the willingness to treat training as non-negotiable.

If you told your boss, "I can't make that 5:30 PM meeting because I'm going to the gym," they'd be annoyed. But if you tell yourself, "I'm not running my planned long run because I had too many meetings," you just accept it.

As a self-coached athlete, you are the boss. You have to hold yourself to the same standard you'd hold an employee.

But here's what's actually going on: it's not about time. It's about energy. Let me explain.

Your ego wants to run fast today.

Your system says run easy. Heart rate below 150 bpm. You should be able to have a conversation. Pace around 6:10–6:40 per kilometer.

Guess which one feels better?

The fast run feels good. You're breathing hard. You feel like you're "working." Your watch shows a nice pace. You can screenshot it for Strava.

The easy run feels like wasted time. Your pace is embarrassing. You're barely sweating.

As someone training yourself without a coach, this is your fundamental problem: Your ego and your system are in constant conflict.

When you have a coach, they resolve this conflict for you. The coach says, "Easy run today. I don't care how you feel." You do it because you paid them money and you respect their authority.

But when you're coaching yourself? You have to resolve that conflict internally. And if you're not ruthless about it, your ego wins. And when your ego wins repeatedly, you overtrain, get injured, or burn out.

This post is about learning to decouple your ego from your training decisions.

Organizing ITB Ultra Marathon 2025

The Psychology of the Self-Coached Athlete

Here's what I learned in 2024: Your feelings about your training are not data.

You might feel like you need a hard run. Your body might actually need recovery.

You might feel strong today, but your HRV (heart rate variability) score tells you that your nervous system is fried.

You might feel like you're not working hard enough, but your training stress is already at critical levels.

You might feel energized, but your resting heart rate is elevated, suggesting overtraining is accumulating.

Most runners make training decisions based on feels. "I feel good, so I'll do a workout." "I feel tired, so I'll rest." This seems logical, but it's actually just your ego talking.

Here's the problem: your feeling is a lag indicator. By the time you feel tired, you've already been accumulating fatigue for days. By the time you feel strong, you might already be pushing into overtraining.

Data is a lead indicator. Your HRV drops before you feel tired. Your resting heart rate rises before you feel fatigued. Your sleep quality declines before your mood crashes.

In January 2025, I was scheduled for an easy run. 8 kilometers, heart rate around 145 bpm. I woke up feeling incredible. I'd slept well, I felt strong, I wanted to run hard.

My ego said: "Skip the plan, run hard today, you'll feel amazing."

My data said:

• HRV: 32 (below my baseline—indicates high stress)
• Resting heart rate: 62 bpm (elevated from my baseline of 58)
• Previous 5 days: All moderate-to-hard intensity
• Sleep last night: 6 hours (below my 8+ target)

My system said: "Run the easy run."

I ran the easy run. My watch showed I did 8 km in 52 minutes (6:30/km pace), which for an "easy" run felt slow. My heart rate stayed at 145–150 bpm the whole time.

And crucially, my HRV recovered to 42 by the next day.

If I'd run hard that day, I would have felt great for 1 hour. Then I would have paid for it with elevated HRV and higher injury risk for the next 3–4 days.

This is ego decoupling: choosing the data over how you feel.

You don't need to read these posts in order. You also don't need to read all of them.

This isn't a book: it is a documentation of a system written as standalone observations about ultramarathon training. Think of it as a collection of field notes rather than a narrative arc. There are specific paths through the content depending on what you want to understand.

BTS Ultra 100K - 2025

If You Want to Finish Your First 100K

If you want to understand the minimum viable system to finish a 100 kilometer ultramarathon, here is your reading path:

Foundation:

• The Algorithm of Endurance: Why I run.
• The Architecture of Endurance: What you're learning (the system I built).
• Bio-Structural Audit: Understand your body before training.
• Red Flags & Screening: Prevent injury before it happens.

Then Skip Straight to Ultra:

• The Mindset Shift: Why 100K is different from marathoning.
• Strategic Periodization: How to structure 6 months of training.
• Ultra-Specific Work: Building durability and vertical climbing.
• The Ultra Stomach: How to fuel for 20 plus hours.
• Psychology & Grit: Mental frameworks for the hard moments.
• Crew Management: How your support team makes or breaks your race.
• Problem-Solving: What to do when things go wrong.

Then (Optionally) Understand Why:

• Bioenergetics: How your body actually produces energy.
• Fuel Selection: Understanding metabolism and fat adaptation.
• Threshold Diagnostics: Measuring your actual fitness.
• Data Integration: Knowing what your watch is actually telling you.

This path takes you from identity → understanding your body → building ultra-specific fitness → executing a race → understanding why it works.

Total time: 6-7 hours of reading + 24 weeks of training.

In late 2024, I made a decision that seemed insane at the time: I was not going to hire a running coach.

Not because I couldn't afford one. Not because I didn't believe in coaching. In fact, I have seen the value of professional guidance firsthand. I was coached as part of the ASICS Marathon Team in 2023 and influenced by the Pocari Sweat Sports Science team while serving as a Pocari Sweat Marathon Pacer in 2024.

However, I realized something about myself: I think better when I understand the system, not just the directives.

A coach would tell me: "Run 10 kilometers easy on Tuesday. Do four repeats of 1600 meters hard on Wednesday."

I would follow the plan. If it worked, great. If it did not, I would blame the plan or myself, but I wouldn't actually understand what happened.

Instead, I decided to reverse-engineer my own training system from first principles, synthesizing methodologies from foundational texts like Daniels’ Running Formula, 80/20 Running, and Advanced Marathoning.

Trans Jeju 100K - My first UTMB World Series

Why You Don't Need a Coach (But You Need a System)

I'm not anti-coach. Good coaches are valuable. But most runners don't need a coach. They need a system. Here's the difference:

A coach is a person who:

• Knows your history, injuries, and psychology.
• Adjusts your plan in real-time based on how you're responding.
• Provides accountability and motivation.
• Costs $30 to $300 (Rp5.000.000) per month.

A system is a framework that:

• Is replicable and teachable.
• Removes guesswork from training decisions.
• Can be personalized without external help.
• Costs $0 (or the price of understanding it).

As a busy professional, I don't have the bandwidth for a coach. But I have the intellectual capital to understand training systems. I have the time to document what works. And I have the obsession to test it rigorously.

This is what a system gives you: the ability to adapt to your reality.

Because life isn't static. Work stress spikes. You get injured. You travel. Your schedule changes. A fixed training plan breaks under this complexity. But a system you understand can flex.

When my work spiked in August 2025, I didn't abandon training. I reduced intensity while maintaining volume. I ran 80% easy runs instead of 60%. My fitness didn't decline. It actually improved because I managed stress better.

A coach's plan would have said: "Follow this or don't." My system said: "Adapt while maintaining the principles."

There is a moment that happens around kilometer 80 of an ultra trail race. Your legs feel like concrete. Your mind is screaming. The pain isn't sharp anymore; it is dull and omnipresent, as if your body is slowly surrendering to physics.

I hit that moment three times in 2025.

Three ultra trails in eight weeks. Three 100-kilometer races. Three times I convinced myself that my legs would keep moving when my brain insisted they were finished. Three times I discovered something I did not know about myself.

But here is what surprised me most: it was not the ultramarathon that changed me. It was the realization that everything I had learned as a business technologist, including every framework, system, and principle I built while running my company, applied directly to running 100 kilometers through mountains.

This is my origin story in running.

BDG Ultra 2025 - My first 100K

The Desk-to-Trail Transition

My name is Anggriawan Sugianto. I am the Chief of Suitmedia, a digital consulting firm in Jakarta with over 200 employees. I spend most days in optimizing workflows, analyzing spreadsheets, and making decisions that affect growth.

I also run 100-kilometer races through mountains.

These two facts may seem disconnected, but they are not. They represent the same skill applied to different domains.

In 2023, I started running seriously. I do not mean the casual 10-kilometer runs often seen on social media. I mean distance: the kind that takes hours, demands total consistency, and reveals your true character.

At first, it was for health. Then it became a test. Finally, it became an obsession with understanding how systems work.

Most people who run endurance distances follow one of two paths:

1. Outsourced: Hire a coach, pay the fee, and follow the plan.
2. Amateur: Download a generic plan from the internet and hope for the best.

Both approaches assume you need an external structure or that you cannot think for yourself. I rejected both.

As a strategist, I have spent a decade learning to think in systems. I build products using frameworks. I make hiring decisions using matrices. I structure companies around principles rather than hunches.

It seemed illogical to abandon that mindset the moment I wanted to run 100 kilometers.

In late 2024, I decided to become my own coach.

This was not due to arrogance, but because I had a unique advantage: the ability to reverse-engineer the system. I had the time to test hypotheses and document what actually works.

By 2025, I had proven the system works.

Di tengah keriuhan transportasi publik kita, entah itu di gerbong KRL yang padat atau di sela antrean ojek daring, ada sebuah pemandangan baru yang seragam: layar gawai yang digenggam vertikal dengan volume suara yang tipis namun dramatis. Masyarakat kita sedang dijangkiti demam mikro-drama atau "dracin pendek". Hanya dalam durasi satu hingga tiga menit per episode, drama ini mampu menyihir jutaan orang, mulai dari pekerja sektor informal hingga eksekutif yang mencari pelarian sejenak dari keletihan mental (decision fatigue).

Sebagai praktisi Customer Experience (CX), saya melihat keberhasilan mikro-drama bukan terletak pada kemegahan sinematografinya, melainkan pada ketangkasannya membedah anatomi psikologi dan perilaku manusia modern di era seluler.

Ilustrasi: Menonton Mikro-Drama di dalam MRT

Matinya “Format Menengah”

Secara historis, kita terbiasa dengan durasi standar 22 menit untuk sitkom atau satu jam untuk drama televisi. Namun, hari ini kita menyaksikan apa yang saya sebut sebagai The Death of the Middle-Form. Konsumsi konten kini bergerak ke dua titik ekstrem: format sangat panjang seperti podcast berjam-jam, atau format ultra-pendek.

Mikro-drama mengeksploitasi interstitial time, celah waktu sempit di sela fragmentasi kesibukan kita. Ia menawarkan frictionless consumption. Tanpa perlu komitmen waktu besar, ia hadir mengubah waktu tunggu yang "mati" menjadi jendela hiburan yang intens. Di sinilah letak kemenangannya: ia tidak meminta waktu kita, ia mencurinya di sela-sela kesibukan.

Pembajakan Vertikal dan Efek Zeigarnik

Platform mikro-drama melakukan vertical hijack. Dengan format vertikal yang memanjakan ergonomi satu tangan manusia, teknologi ini menyesuaikan diri dengan ritme fisik kita, bukan sebaliknya. Ini bukan sekadar soal rasio aspek layar, melainkan desain yang sadar konteks (context-aware design).

Daya pikatnya kian adiktif berkat penerapan gamified cliffhangers. Setiap episode dirancang menggunakan Zeigarnik Effect, tendensi psikologis di mana otak manusia cenderung merasa terganggu dan terus teringat pada hal yang belum selesai. Rasa penasaran ini dikomodifikasi sedemikian rupa, sehingga pengguna secara bawah sadar akan sulit melepaskan layar sebelum cerita tuntas, meski harus membayar per episode.

Secara kultural, mikro-drama di Indonesia sukses karena menyentuh "DNA" lokal. Tema seperti balas dendam menantu yang terzalimi atau CEO yang menyamar adalah topik universal yang menawarkan gratifikasi instan melalui narasi “justice porn”, kepuasan melihat keangkuhan ditundukkan oleh kebenaran. Strategi ini lalu diperkuat dengan algorithmic funneling yang presisi di Facebook, Instagram, atau TikTok, menjerat audiens masuk ke dalam corong konversi (funnel) menuju aplikasi utama.

There is a specific kind of silence that only exists at 3:00 AM on a muddy trail in the middle of a race. Your headlamp is failing, your quads feel like they've been tenderized by a mallet, and your brain is screaming—rationally, logically—that you should stop.

Over the years, I've realized that the "algorithms" I learned in ITB and the "frameworks" I mastered in KAIST MBA are exactly what keep me moving on the trail. And conversely, the "grit" of the trail is what allows me to lead Suitmedia through the volatility of the Indonesian tech landscape.

Success is isomorphic. The same principles that scale a company win a mountain race. These are the mental models I live by, grouped into the pillars that define my world.

BTS Ultra 2025

I. How I Think

These are the foundational models for clarity. If my internal "Map" is wrong, no amount of speed will get me to the right destination.

1. The Logic of Truth

Before you can solve a problem, you have to see it clearly.

• First Principles Thinking: Strip a problem to the core truths. Don't reason by analogy; build your own logic from the ground up.
• Occam's Razor: When faced with two competing theories, the simplest one is usually the truth. Avoid over-engineering your life.
• Map vs. Territory: Your mental models, plans, and spreadsheets are just "maps." Never confuse the abstraction with the messy reality of the "territory."
• Circle of Competence: Be brutally honest about what you know and where your expertise ends. Play only in games where you have an edge.

2. Strategic Decision Making

Choosing the path when the fog of war (or mountain mist) is thick.

• Inversion: Instead of asking how to succeed, ask "How could I spectacularly fail?" Then, build systems to avoid those specific pitfalls.
• Probabilistic Thinking: Life is a game of odds, not certainties. Focus on making high-probability bets rather than chasing sure things.
• Regret Minimization: When at a crossroads, choose the path that your 80-year-old self would be most proud of.
• Sunk Cost Fallacy: Having the courage to walk away from a bad project or relationship, regardless of how much time or money you've already invested.

3. The Physics of Growth

How to ensure effort results in exponential progress.

• The Pareto Principle: Identify the 20% of inputs—habits, clients, or training—that produce 80% of your results. Ruthlessly cut the rest.
• Compounding: The most powerful force in the universe. Tiny, 1% gains repeated over a decade create exponential wealth, wisdom, and fitness.
• Velocity vs. Speed: Speed is how fast you move; Velocity is speed plus direction. It's better to crawl toward the right goal than sprint toward the wrong one.
• Theory of Constraints: Every system has one primary bottleneck. Improving anything else is an exercise in futility. Find the bottleneck; widen it.

4. Human & Social Dynamics

Navigating the "Human API" in leadership and life.

• Incentives: Show me the incentive, and I will show you the outcome. If you want to change behavior, change the reward structure.
• Hanlon's Razor: Never attribute to malice what can be adequately explained by neglect or a simple mistake. It saves a lot of unnecessary anger.
• Social Proof: We are biologically wired to mimic others. Use this awareness to choose mentors wisely and avoid groupthink traps.
• Pygmalion Effect: People generally live up to or down to the expectations we set for them. Lead with high belief in your team.

5. Systemic Resilience

Building a person in me that gets stronger under pressure.

• Antifragility: Designing your life so that you don't just survive the storm—you actually get stronger because of them.
• Feedback Loops: The shorter the gap between an action and its feedback, the faster you can iterate and improve.
• Margin of Safety: Always leave a buffer—in your schedule, your bank account, and your heart rate—for the unknown unknowns.
• The Power of Narrative: The stories we tell ourselves about our failures determine whether they become traumas or fuel for growth.

This post is about a 5-year journey that changed everything—and what it taught me about resilience, strategy, and becoming who you thought you couldn't.

Trans Jeju 100K Finisher Totem

The Impossible Beginning

In 2020, I was that guy: an ITB alumnus running a creative digital agency, completely sedentary, leaning hard into unhealthy habits. I wasn't sick, wasn't in crisis (yet), but I was fractured. The pandemic hit, and something in me broke open—not dramatically, but quietly. I hit Obese level 1. My cognitive function tanked. I remember calling it "slow thinking"—like my brain was running at half speed. I'd sit in strategic meetings and feel... foggy. Unreliable. Not myself.

In August 2020, something shifted. I decided to run 5 kilometers.

I remember telling people: "I'm going to run a marathon one day." They laughed. Not unkindly, but the kind of laugh that says sure, buddy. And honestly? I didn't believe it either. A marathon felt like claiming I'd climb Everest. A 100K? Laughable. Impossible.

But here's what I didn't understand then: impossibility is just a lack of systems.

By July 2023, I was running marathons with the ASICS Marathon Team. By 2024, I was a Pocari Sweat Marathon Pacer. And in 2025—just 5 years after that first terrifying 5K—I ran not one, but three 100K ultra-trail races in eight weeks.

When I delivered this presentation on October 30, 2025, I had already completed two of them: BDG Ultra and Trans Jeju by UTMB. I was mid-mission, riding the momentum toward the third race (BTS Ultra), still processing what was happening.

Now, writing this in January 2026, with all three finishes behind me, I can see the full arc of what happened.

100+ km. Done.

The journey wasn't about getting faster or stronger (though both happened). It was about discovering that the person I thought I was—sedentary, undisciplined, limited—was a fiction. And once you see through that fiction, you can't unsee it.

Along the way, I learned seven fundamental truths. Not secrets, exactly. More like operating principles—frameworks that work because they're rooted in how humans actually function, not how we wish we functioned.

These aren't just running principles. I've watched them reshape how I lead Suitmedia, how I make decisions under uncertainty, how I handle the scaling challenges of a growing business. They're transferable. And I think they might work for whatever your "100K" is.

Secret #1: The Power of Showing Up (Consistency Beats Intensity Every Time) The Real Problem with Motivation

Let me tell you about motivation: it's a liar.

Everyone approaches running (or fitness, or any ambitious goal) the same way: they wait for motivation. They imagine themselves as the kind of person who loves running. They picture early mornings, sunrises, that runner's high. They motivate themselves into a frenzy and commit to running 5 days a week, 10km per session.

Then Tuesday comes, and they're tired. Wednesday, it rains. Thursday, work runs late. By Saturday, they've missed three sessions, feel like failures, and quit.

This is the motivation trap. And I fell into it hard in those first months.

What changed everything was understanding BJ Fogg's Behavior Model: Behavior = Motivation + Ability + Prompt. You can't rely on motivation because motivation is volatile. It spikes and crashes. But you can control ability and prompts.

Here's what I did differently:

I started absurdly small.

My first running routine wasn't 10km, 5 days a week. It was 15 minutes of walk-jog, 3 times a week. That's it. Not impressive. Not Instagram-worthy. But doable. Even on bad days, even when I was tired or stressed, 15 minutes felt achievable.

The magic wasn't in the 15 minutes themselves. It was in building the habit first, the pace later.

I treated running like a professional appointment—non-negotiable, scheduled, the same time each week. Not because I loved it, but because it was on the calendar, and I show up to calendar items. This sounds obvious, but most people don't do this. They think discipline comes from feeling like it. Discipline actually comes from removing the decision.

By month three, running 15 minutes 3x a week felt as normal as brushing my teeth. My brain stopped negotiating it. Then I extended to 20 minutes. Then to 5 days a week. Then the distances grew. But the foundation was the habit—showing up, even when it sucked.

The "Good Enough" Run

Here's something they don't tell you: not every run needs to be great.

In October 2025, I had completed a 266-week running streak—5+ years without missing a single week. Some of those runs were transcendent. Most were forgettable. Some were genuinely ugly. I remember a 6am run in Jakarta heat where I barely made it 5km and felt like I'd been hit by a bicycle. But I showed up. That run counted the same as the perfect long run on a cool morning.

The breakthrough moment came when I stopped chasing the perfect run and started celebrating the completion of effort. Some weeks, "showing up" meant a slow 8km jog in humidity. Some weeks it meant a brutal 30km weekend run. Both counted. Both built the streak.

This is counterintuitive but critical: Discipline is built by showing up on the bad days, not the good ones. The good days take care of themselves.

The mountains don’t care about your profit and loss statement.

I learned this the hard way in 2025. This year was a study in extreme contrast—a chaotic, beautiful, and sometimes heartbreaking symphony of high performance and hard landing. Physically, I reached a peak I once thought was reserved for the elite. Community-wise, I tried to pour into others even when my own cup felt dangerously low. Professionally, I navigated a trough that tested every bit of my resolve.

It was a year of three 100K races, three cities of volunteering, and three years of financial losses. It was a year of learning that while you can out-run a mountain, you have to out-think a crisis.

Siksorogo Lawu Ultra 2025

January, I started the year in the mud of Bandung. Tahura Trail was a ten-hour reminder of what my legs could do, climbing sixteen hundred meters while the world was still waking up to 2025.

February took me to Yogyakarta for Kelas Inspirasi. Standing in SDN Baciro, I tried to explain the life of an "IT Consultant" to children whose eyes sparkled with a curiosity that had nothing to do with billable hours, a brief and grounding moment before I turned back to the trails for the eighty-one kilometers of CTC Ultra.

March was a month of silence on the trails but loud alarms in the boardroom.

I spent April balancing a quick ten-kilometer sprint at LebaRUN with the punishing verticality of the Semarang Mountain Race. Between those climbs, I went "Back to School" with Kelas Inspirasi Jakarta at SDN Menteng Atas 14, teaching kids that dreams, much like mountains, are conquered one step at a time.

In May, the training was quiet, disciplined, and solitary.

I went back to the asphalt in June for the Jakarta International Marathon. It was four hours of fighting the city’s thick heat and suffocating humidity, a different kind of endurance that demands road speed even when the air feels like soup.

It was supposed to be the grand finale. The last battle in my 2025 ultra trail saga—a year packed with challenge and grit. Three 100K ultras in eight weeks. One race each month. I was tired, yes, but more than that, I was determined. This was the moment to seal the deal. Siksorogo Lawu Ultra 80K. The last dance of the year.

Campground Sekipan, Tawangmangu

I’m no stranger to this race. Not at all. My story with SLU began in 2023, a modest 30K that introduced me gently to the wild trails. It didn’t end there. I came back stronger, wilder, wetter in 2024. The rain never let up; it poured like the sky was determined to wash away every ounce of my hope. I slipped, I tripped, I fought. Yet I finished. Barely.

The 2024 race stats tell a brutal story. From 44 starters in the 120K only 6 finished, a gut-wrenching 14%. The 80K field saw just 51 of 145 make it through, about 35%. And the 50K? Even that, with nearly half dropping out. The median finish times crept close to cut-off, inching like shadows waiting to claim the weak.

Flag-off times laid out a rhythm, a precarious dance with darkness and daylight. Midnight for the longest, early mornings for the rest. These are not casual starts. They are invitations to suffer under the indifferent stars.

Then came 2025.

This year, something had shifted. The numbers were better. 23 finishers of 57 in the 120K, that’s 40%. The 80K grew to 65% finishers, and the 50K even higher. More runners standing tall, more stories of grit written into mountain dust.

Even the median finish times edged slower than 2024, but still comfortably under the cut-offs. That small difference means everything. Because every second counts when the body screams for mercy.

And, yes, the flag-off times in 2025 changed too. The 120K started on Friday night, earlier than before, the 80K at midnight, chasing night’s last breath, and the 50K at 5 a.m. No more leisurely dawn departures. This was battle mode.

Okay, let's be honest. After running two 100-kilometer ultra-trail races in just five weeks, my body should have been officially on strike. Most people would be horizontal, maybe with a nice warm compress and a long, philosophical stare at their ceiling.

BTS Ultra: The most beautiful ultra-race I ever run

Yet, here I was, standing at the BTS Ultra start line. This was the third, and final, monster in my slightly mad, self-imposed trilogy. The mountain air was sharp and cold, but also buzzing with a strange, electric energy. I expected a full choir of aches and doubts to greet me, a symphony of 'what ifs' and 'why did I dos' louder than a rock concert.

But instead? Silence. A surprising calm hummed beneath my skin. There was no overwhelming tiredness from BDG Ultra or Trans Jeju, those two beasts I'd already wrestled. Three full weeks I’d poured into recovery, focused entirely on healing, on preparing for Bromo’s unique challenge. My Amazfit T-Rex 3 Pro had quietly tracked every training session, every recovery nap (almost!), giving me solid, data-backed confidence. It paid off. My internal optimists, usually a quiet bunch, were actually winning the argument for once.

Even with a third 100K looming, a crazy big task for most, and frankly, a bit bonkers for anyone, stress felt like a distant rumor. This wasn't just another race dot on my calendar. It was the legend. This famous 100K race, winding through ancient volcanic areas and tough peaks, felt less like a course and more like a sacred landscape where volcanoes stand guard. Where the earth breathes old fire and wisdom.

Third ultra trail 100K in 8 weeks

This race, I truly believe, is the most beautiful ultra-trail race I have ever run. Its natural beauty just pulls you in. Huge peaks touching the sky, the fresh, cold mountain air that wakes you up, the deep quiet before dawn that feels like the world is holding its breath. 

The race started at midnight. It was like a silent river of lights flowing from Artotel Cabin Bromo into the huge, dark night. My usual easy pace settled into a steady, calm rhythm. A quiet chat with the trail itself. We reached B29, a part that's known for being narrow. It’s a slow, careful shuffle up a steep hill, a forced lesson in working together. After that, the path went towards Ranu Pane. This part was sometimes "annoying" with its sunken tracks from motorbikes. Each careful step was a dance to avoid twisting an ankle, but my ASICS Gel-Trabuco 13 shoes, bless their grippy soles, held firm.

B29 Climb at Night

Then, the reward: Ranu Kumbolo (km 25). Even if its famous beauty was hidden in morning fog, its full glory veiled, just being near that calm lake was amazing. It felt like walking into a painting, a quick, dreamy moment of peace before the trail turned, going back to Ranu Pane. It was a short, beautiful break, a quiet promise of what was beyond the clouds.

Sebagai seorang pegiat ultra-endurance sport, yang telah menyelesaikan 9x marathon sejak 2023 dan baru saja menyelesaikan 100K ultra trail di BDG Ultra dan Trans Jeju by UTMB, saya menyadari betul krusialnya peran teknologi pendukung. Selama empat tahun terakhir, smartwatch lama saya telah menjadi instrumen esensial. Namun, di tengah tuntutan ultra trail race yang makin intens, saya mulai mengidentifikasi beberapa pain points:

1. Daya Tahan Baterai: Kebutuhan untuk mengisi daya di setiap checkpoint menjadi sebuah additional burden yang tidak ideal.
2. Navigasi: Fungsionalitas breadcrumb yang terbatas seringkali kurang memadai untuk jalur ultra trail yang kompleks, berpotensi menyebabkan nyasar di tengah hutan.
3. Visibilitas Layar: Layar yang relatif redup saat lari siang di bawah terik matahari mempersulit pembacaan data.

Tiga pain points tersebut membawa saya untuk mengeksplorasi solusi yang lebih optimal, hingga akhirnya menemukan Amazfit T-Rex 3 Pro. Smartwatch ini menarik perhatian saya karena menawarkan berbagai fitur flagship yang umumnya ditemukan pada segmen harga lebih tinggi. Artikel ini akan menganalisis secara objektif, apakah Amazfit T-Rex 3 Pro benar-benar memberikan nilai lebih dibandingkan pesaing selevelnya, seperti Fenix 8 atau Apex 2 Pro, khususnya dari perspektif seorang ultra trail runner.

Baterai T-Rex 3 Pro masih 18% setelah dipakai ultra trail 100K, lanjut tidur dan recovery walk.

⚠️ DISCLOSURE: Unit Amazfit T-Rex 3 Pro yang saya gunakan ini adalah dukungan dari Amazfit Indonesia untuk persiapan dan pengujian di ultra trail race 100K di TransJeju by UTMB 2025. Penting untuk ditekankan bahwa analisis ini bersifat 100% objektif, tidak berbayar, dan murni berdasarkan pengalaman pribadi saya di lapangan.

Spesifikasi Teknis Amazfit T-Rex 3 Pro

Sebelum membahas user experience, mari kita telaah data spesifikasi Amazfit T-Rex 3 Pro. Angka-angka ini menunjukkan bagaimana smartwatch ini serius menantang smartwatch flagship lain yang harganya bisa dua hingga tiga kali lipat:

• Harga: Rp 6.599.000 (Cek promonya di Shopee atau Tokopedia)
• Navigasi: Peta Offline
• GPS: Dual-Band GNSS (6 Satelit)
• Baterai (Mode GPS Akurat): Hingga 47 jam
• Layar: AMOLED 1.5 inchi (Sapphire)
• Flashlight: LED Bawaan
• Material Bezel: Titanium Grade 5

There's a funny thing about pushing your limits: the moment you cross a finish line, part of you vows "never again." But then, a stubborn whisper begins, a quiet pull towards the next impossible dream.

TransJeju by UTMB 2025

After BDG Ultra 100K, my body definitely screamed for a proper break. Five weeks went by, letting my muscles heal and my mind catch up to the wild idea of doing it all again. The sharp pain from that first race slowly softened into a familiar ache, almost like an old friend I hadn't truly said goodbye to. My brain was perfectly content dreaming of endless naps, and my legs, after their strong protests, were finally considering working again. I was a 100K finisher, a title I felt both proud of and a little confused by. Honestly, I thought more rest was next, not another super long run.

But then, Trans Jeju by UTMB started calling. This wasn't just "another" race to tick off my crazy list. This was personal. Korea. Ah, Korea. It's a country I deeply love, full of memories from my KAIST days in Seoul. Running here, after so long, felt like coming home, even if I'd never been to Jeju Island before.

Beyond my feelings for Korea, there was the dream. This would be my very first UTMB World Series event. If you know anything about trail running, you've probably heard of Chamonix and Mont Blanc. Running 100 miles there is my biggest dream, my ultimate goal. Trans Jeju was the important first step, exciting and a little scary, towards that dream. My tired legs, bless them, were already complaining about my big plans. But my heart was set.

Hello, Jeju!

The lessons from BDG Ultra were my best guide: how to pace myself, how important nutrition and hydration are, and how to keep my mind strong. These quiet truths I carried with me into this new adventure.

I arrived at Jeju Island on Thursday, giving me a crucial night of proper sleep. This was a true blessing, as Friday night (D-1) for a big race like this usually brings me a symphony of nerves and very little actual sleep. My friends, Ramsky and Fathan, joined me on Friday, their arrival adding an extra layer of excitement to the calm before the storm. They signed up for the 20K, their very first trail race! Seeing their excitement for their "first time" was a great boost for me, even though my "first time" was just five weeks ago, and this was way longer.

TransJeju with Ramsky & Fathan

Knowing my body was still recovering, I knew I needed the best gears. My trusty Amazfit T-Rex 3 Pro was ready to track every step and important number. My ASICS Gel Trabuco 13 gave my tired feet the grip and soft landing they needed. I knew it would be a long night, so my reliable Nitecore UT27 Headlamp and power bank were packed – getting lost in the dark is never fun. And feeling good in my LICA custom jersey always helps, even if I was secretly still wondering what I'd gotten myself into.

Team Amazfit Indonesia

Arriving in Jeju, an island I'd always dreamed of seeing, felt like stepping into a beautiful picture. The air was fresh, the scenery amazing, and the UTMB event had a special energy.

A Wild Leap of Faith – For a while now, running has been my happy place. It’s where my thoughts get sorted, my legs get a good workout, and sometimes, I find a deep truth hiding in the dust of a trail. I’ve run full marathons. I even managed to finish some ultra trail races. Last year, my BDG Ultra 64K felt like my own personal Mount Everest. It was my longest run ever, with the most climbing. I felt pretty proud of it, honestly. That was my "normal world" of running – comfortable, familiar, something I knew I could do. Little did I know, I was just looking at the base camp for something much bigger... and definitely crazier.

BDG Ultra 100K

Then, something just clicked. Or maybe a wire short-circuited in my brain! The idea started as a whisper, then shouted like a crazy person on a megaphone: three 100K ultras in eight weeks. Yes, you read that right. My brain, bless its hopeful, over-ambitious heart, thought this was a perfectly normal next step. Was it a brilliant idea? A mid-life moment of madness, but in cool running shoes? Probably a bit of both, seasoned with "why the heck not?"

BDG Ultra 100K became the first step in this wonderfully insane plan. It wasn't just an "upgrade" from my 64K. It was like going from a bicycle to a rocket ship with no instruction manual! Over 6000 meters of elevation gain? This wasn't just a race. This was THE race. My first 100K. My longest run ever. My highest climb. It was a leap into the completely unknown.

Leopards, Doubts, and Training Wisdom

The first rush of excitement quickly changed. It became a mix of "what have I done?" and "am I completely insane?" My inner critic, a rather loud and persuasive friend, started listing all the reasons this was a terrible idea. My feet, still aching from training, were staging their own silent protest.

And as if my self-doubt wasn't enough, just weeks before race day, news broke. A leopard had gone missing from Lembang Zoo. Right near Tangkuban Parahu – part of our race route! Suddenly, every rustle in the bushes wasn't just a friendly squirrel. It was a potentially stressed, hungry, 100K-curious leopard. Who wants to be a personal best for a leopard?

Despite my dramatic inner thoughts and leopard worries, I wasn't totally unprepared. My training wasn't just running; it was my teacher. Semarang Mountain Race 50K, Dieng Trail Run 60K, Maybank Bali Marathon – these weren't just races. They were wise old friends, teaching me patience, strength, and the art of putting one foot in front of the other. They built my foundation. Even if my sanity felt like it was resting on shaky stilts. This steady, sometimes very tough, effort became my guiding light. It prepared me for the beautifully terrifying unknown.

Hello there, fellow traveler on this wild journey called life! Or, in my case, on this wild journey called… a very, very busy running calendar. You know those moments when life throws you a delightful curveball, and suddenly your perfectly laid plans take an unexpected, exhilarating detour? Well, grab a cup of kopi, because that's pretty much the story of how I found myself toeing the starting line of the Maybank Bali Marathon 2025.

Maybank Marathon 2025

Truth be told, the Maybank Bali Marathon wasn't initially in my grand scheme of things. My 2025 calendar was already looking a tad ambitious, some might say borderline certifiably insane. We're talking: UI Trail Race (42K marathon trail, EG 2500m, on August 3rd – more dirt, more fun!), Dieng Trail Run (60K ultra trail, EG 4000m, on August 10th – just a week after UI? Why not!), then BDG Ultra (100K ultra trail, EG 6125m, on September 13th – the big one, my debut 100K.)

Yes, a glance at that list confirms I might have a slight problem. But hey, it's a good problem, right? Then, like a refreshing breeze on a particularly sweaty training run, an Instagram campaign from Pelita Air, a medium-service airline which is always on time, swooped into my feed on July 18th. "Yuk, ikutan Maybank Marathon 2025 #KeBaliLariBarengPelita," it cheerfully announced, offering free flights and running slots.

Now, Bali, you see, holds a special place in my runner's heart. It's truly my second home for running. There's always a new story unfolding there, a new personal best waiting to be shattered. Every step on that magical island feels infused with an extra surge of energy. So, when the possibility of another run there, with the added magic carpet ride courtesy of Pelita Air, presented itself, how could I resist? Especially when I knew this particular marathon could serve as a crucial piece of my preparation.

My motivation was crystal clear, and I shared it in my campaign entry on July 24th: "Ini peak training saya buat debut lari ultra trail 100K, tiga minggu setelahnya! Momen krusial buat uji fisik dan mental. Semoga saya bisa dapat slot Marathon!" Because clearly, my schedule wasn't already ambitious enough, so adding a full marathon three weeks before my first 100K ultra felt like a perfectly logical, albeit slightly mad, decision.

And then, the Instagram Stories arrived. On August 6th, the news dropped: I got the marathon ticket and flight ticket from Pelita Air! Suddenly, the unexpected became gloriously real. My dream got wings, as I put it, to fly high.

Pernahkah Anda merenung, seberapa besar dampak satu hari dari hidup Anda dapat mengubah masa depan seseorang? Di tengah hiruk pikuk Jakarta, Kelas Inspirasi hadir sebagai gerakan nyata yang percaya pada kekuatan berbagi profesi dan inspirasi. Pada hari Selasa, 19 Agustus 2025, kami menorehkan jejak harapan di SDN Rawa Badak Utara 11, di mana puluhan relawan dari berbagai profesi meluangkan satu hari untuk menjadi inspirator bagi anak-anak. Blog post ini adalah sebuah antologi, kumpulan suara hati dan refleksi otentik dari para relawan tersebut, yang akan membawa Anda menyelami pengalaman, tantangan, pembelajaran, dan ajakan tulus mereka untuk peduli terhadap pendidikan Indonesia.

Kelas Inspirasi Jakarta 2025

Sigit Rais Penulis

Momen Apa yang Tak Terlupakan?

Melihat binar mata anak-anak ketika kita hadir di hadapan mereka, membuat saya bertanya, 'Apa makna kehadiran kita sebagai relawan di hadapan anak-anak ini?' Lalu, mereka dengan antusias bertanya tentang siapa saya dan apa profesi saya. Mereka bersedia menerima kita, menerima cerita yang kita sampaikan, serta menerima setiap kegiatan yang kita instruksikan.

Ketika saya bertanya, 'Apa cita-cita kalian?', semua menjawab tanpa terkecuali. Ada yang ingin menjadi guru, dosen, dokter, polisi, TNI, petugas Damkar, pemain bola, YouTuber, dokter hewan, penjaga kebun binatang, peternak, bahkan Ultraman, dan sederet cita-cita lain yang tak kalah beragam. Gambaran sekelumit ini membuat saya kagum, mengingatkan saya kembali ke masa kecil, dan merasa terharu ketika mereka menatap kita dengan tatapan hormat nan rendah hati. Beberapa tampak mahir membaca cerita dengan gaya bercerita yang memukau, ada yang kreatif membuat gambar sesuai imajinasi, dan ada juga yang awalnya ragu dan malu, namun berani untuk mencoba.

Sesungguhnya, anak-anak itu adalah cerminan dari diri kita: kita yang selalu berusaha, mencoba, dan menjalani hari dengan sebaik-baiknya. Semula saya kira, kita datang dan mengajar untuk mereka, memberi inspirasi kepada mereka. Rupanya yang terjadi adalah kita, yang memang seharusnya tidak boleh berhenti belajar, yang justru mendapatkan inspirasi dari ketulusan anak-anak itu.

Bagaimana Kelas Inspirasi Mengubah Cara Pandangmu?

Dalam Kelas Inspirasi Jakarta, saya ikut serta sebagai inspirator yang memperkenalkan profesi sebagai seorang penulis. Saya kisahkan kepada anak-anak bahwa apa yang selama ini saya kerjakan berkaitan juga dengan kehidupan sehari-hari mereka, seperti saat saya menulis buku pelajaran sekolah—yang mereka baca setiap hari di sekolah—buku cerita, dan tulisan lainnya.

Saya yakin bahwa selain pengetahuan akademis, anak-anak juga membutuhkan contoh nyata dan inspirasi dari berbagai profesi. Saya belajar bahwa kehadiran saya, meskipun hanya sebentar, semoga dapat memberi dorongan bagi mereka untuk terus bermimpi dan semangat mengejar cita-cita. Dari pengalaman ini, saya semakin menyadari bahwa peran saya di masyarakat tidak berhenti pada pekerjaan sehari-hari, melainkan juga bagaimana saya bisa membagikan cerita dan motivasi untuk masa depan generasi berikutnya. Sebab, anak-anak membutuhkan role model yang nyata terkait profesi, yang mungkin tidak dekat dengan keseharian mereka di sekolah ataupun di rumah.

Apa Pesanmu untuk Calon Relawan?

Pendidikan anak Indonesia itu tanggung jawab bersama, termasuk kita, orang-orang yang sudah bekerja dan menggeluti bidang profesional masing-masing. Hal yang ingin saya sampaikan untuk para calon relawan adalah: 'Datanglah, bagikan sepenggal kisah perjalananmu, dan lihat bagaimana binar mata anak-anak yang menemukan mimpi baru.'

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My rational brain often questions my decisions at 2 AM. Especially when I'm voluntarily running up a mountain in 11°C weather, having just put my legs through the wringer a mere seven days prior. But then, there's the call of the trails, a whisper that promises profound conversations with myself, a kind of madness that makes perfect sense to a runner's soul. And that, my friends, is the story of my Dieng Trail Run 2025.

Dieng Trail Run 2025

From Scorching Heat to Misty Heights

Just a week before Dieng, I found myself battling a completely different beast: the UI Trail Race. Forty-two kilometers, 2500m+ of elevation gain, under an intensely scorching sun. My body screamed, my mind argued, and every single step was an exercise in pure mental toughness and patience. 

I learned something crucial that day, a truth that would echo just a week later: resilience isn't pure adaptability. Sometimes it's shivering cold in the dark, sometimes sheer determination to keep moving under a scorching sun. My legs, still humming (or perhaps groaning quietly) from Sentul, were barely recalibrating for what Dieng had in store. The contrast was already a character in this unfolding drama.

A Masterclass in Beautiful Chaos

There's a certain kind of madness that pulls us back to the starting line, isn't there? For me, it's an enduring, slightly masochistic love affair with running, a relentless pursuit of new challenges, and perhaps, a quiet curiosity about how much more my body and mind can endure before they send a strongly worded letter of resignation. This year, the BTN Jakarta International Marathon (JAKIM) 2025 became my next great dance partner – a chance to tackle the vibrant, pulsating heart of my own city.

I stood there at the starting line, perhaps a little too confident in my pre-race crowd analysis, thinking I had this whole "city marathon" thing figured out. Oh, the sweet innocence of a runner before the gun goes off. It's a familiar story, really; we plan, we prepare, and then life (or 42.195 kilometers of it) decides to throw a party of its own, usually without consulting our meticulously crafted itineraries.

BTN JAKIM 2025

Sweat, Strategy, and Smart Recovery

Barely a sigh of relief after the epic Semarang Mountain Race – a beastly 50K ultra trail with a lung-busting 3500m elevation gain back on April 13th – I knew I needed to pivot. Fast. My body, still humming with the echoes of mountain paths, needed a smart transition. So, like any self-respecting tech enthusiast with a penchant for pain, I turned to AI. Yes, my personal 11-week marathon training plan, starting April 14th, was meticulously crafted by an artificial coach, all aimed at a lofty 3:52:00 finish for JAKIM, a crisp 5:30/km average pace.

My weeks quickly found a rhythm, a strategic dance of pavement and gym floor: Tuesday brought 10-12K at an easy pace, a chance for the legs to remember how to move without fighting gravity. Wednesday was the sharp, breathless sting of interval runs, building speed and grit. Thursday, the delightful soreness of strength training, reminding me that a runner needs more than just legs. Friday, a focused tempo run to practice holding that race-day pace, and then, the grand finale, Sunday's long run, always at least 21K, sometimes pushing much further.

The entire 11-week block was a meticulously planned crescendo: Week 1, a much-needed recovery to mourn the mountains. Then, weeks of building base and increasing intensity, followed by a peak mileage phase (hello, 30-32K long run on Week 8!) with a clever supercompensation dip on Week 5 to keep the body guessing and growing. Every stride, every pace, calculated by the venerable Jack Daniel's VDOT method – because apparently, even running has its own sophisticated cocktail of numbers. My weekly mileage consistently topped 50K, a testament to the idea that sometimes, you just have to show up and put in the work, even when your inner voice is bargaining for a nap.

You know, there’s something about mountains. They just stand there, silently calling our names, promising adventure, breathtaking views, and… well, a whole lot of sweat and pain. As a runner, especially one who keeps finding himself tackling ultra trails, I’ve often asked myself, "Why do I do these things? Ngapain siiih… mending tidur!! 😴" Honestly, who needs to stumble through a forest at 2 AM, seeing only a tiny circle of light from a headlamp, when a warm bed is calling?

Semarang Mountain Race 2025

But then I remember. That feeling when you push past what you thought was your limit. The incredible quiet of the pre-dawn trails. The wild, untamed beauty. And the simple truth that 100K training (or any serious training, for that matter) doesn’t happen on the couch. So, we embrace the "suck," we chase those distant peaks, and we sign up for races like the Semarang Mountain Race.

For me, the Semarang Mountain Race 50K wasn't just another dot on the calendar. It was my 5th ultra trail race and my second venture into the enigmatic, rock-and-root-filled world of night ultras, right after the epic CTC 80K. It’s an adventure that promises stunning natural trails, enchanting forests, and those gloriously "sadistic" inclines that make you question all your life choices – but in a good way, I promise!

Even Lunacy Needs a Plan

Now, some folks just run. They go with the flow, feel the vibe, and conquer the mountain with pure heart. And I admire that! But for me, with a tech background and a brain that loves a good puzzle, I can’t help but get a little… strategic. Especially with the experience of those previous ultras under my belt. So, for my SMR 50K, I decided to try something different, something a bit Anggriawan-style: I used AI to craft my race strategy.