How I Turned My Daily Run Streak Into A 102km Victory — Fueled By Grit and Banh Mi
The sun beat down on the West Lake just outside Hanoi, Vietnam. The golden light shimmering across the water, the air so thick with heat and humidity you could almost chew it.
It felt like the lake was mocking me - like it was challenging me to a duel. And I couldn't help feeling drawn to this unforgiving environment.
Just fifteen days later, on July 17th, I laced up my shoes and told myself, “the only rational thing to do before leaving Vietnam… is to run 100km.”
I called it the Banh Mi 100. A solo ultramarathon in the muggy Hanoi heat. Five laps around the West Lake, each lap 20km. And waiting at the end of every lap? A sandwich aka banh mi. My fuel, my ritual, my strange but perfect companion.
But here’s the truth: the Banh Mi 100 wasn’t really about the sandwiches. It was about everything I’d built day after day, run after run, during years of consistent training. This wasn’t a stunt. It was the natural outcome of becoming the man my habits had forged.
When The Heat Becomes The Enemy
From the first steps, the conditions attacked me. Temperatures ranging from 29 to 36 degrees. Humidity choking in the 90s.
It wasn’t just uncomfortable. It was dangerous.
Every stride sent a reminder through my body: hydration was life or death out here. I locked into a rhythm with 2.2 liters of fluid every lap, plus 2-4 salt tablets to keep electrolytes in check.
Even then, I could feel I was behind. Every drop of water consumed = two drops of sweat.
But that’s the thing about running in extremes. You don’t fight the conditions. You dance with them. And my dance was simple: keep smiling, keep waving at the locals buzzing past on their motorbikes, keep turning a brutal street into a celebration.
Responding To The Temptation To Quit
By lap three, the pain wasn’t whispering anymore. It was screaming. My legs ached with every stride. My stomach twisted with every banh mi. My mouth begged for water even as I swallowed another mouthful.
This is the point most runners dread: when your body pleads for mercy and your inner voice whispers, “you’ve proven enough, just stop.”
But here’s what years of consistency had taught me: your mind will lie to you long before your body gives out.
So I stayed in the moment. One foot, one breath, one wave to another passing bike. I refused to wrestle with the distance ahead. I just answered the question: Can I take this next step?
And the answer, every single time, was yes.
Crossing The Line — But Not As You’d Expect
7 hours, 47 minutes, and 20 seconds after starting, I stopped my watch. Distance covered: 102.65km. Average pace: 4:33/km.
Numbers that still don’t quite feel real.
But here’s the twist: despite my body wanting to collapse, those final meters were characterised by pure joy.
More pleasure than pain. More freedom than restriction. More presence than panic.
I didn’t stumble across the finish line broken. I arrived stronger, clearer, more alive. So alive, in fact, I wanted to keep going, and ran an extra 2.65km.
That’s the gift running gives you when you lean fully into its extremes — not the medal, not the glory, but the discovery of who you are when there’s nowhere to hide.
What A Banh Mi Fuelled Ultra Marathon Really Teaches You
The Banh Mi 100 wasn’t just about heat, hydration, or stubbornness.
It was about proof. Proof that the habits I preach — daily consistency, humility in the process, joy in the grind — actually works.
Proof that resilience isn’t a switch you flip on race day, it’s a seed that is planted, nurtured, and harvested in moments like these.
Most of all, it was a reminder: lead with a smile. Whether it’s a 5km jog or a 100km in hellish humidity, when you meet the world with joy, the world gives something back.
This run was a milestone, yes. But more than that, it was a stepping stone. To whatever comes next. To the next unknown challenge that makes no sense on paper, but feels right in the soul.
And I’ll be ready. Banh mi in hand.
Your Turn To Step Up
I ran 102.65km in crushing heat not because I was ready… but because I made a decision to walk this path, and after years of daily runs, I have become ready. That’s the truth most people miss: the race is just the tip of the iceberg.
So here’s my question for you: what’s your Banh Mi 100?
It doesn’t have to be 100km in Vietnam heat. It might be your first 5K. A marathon you’ve been putting off. Or simply running three times a week without breaking the streak.
Take a moment right now and ask yourself:
What’s the challenge I’ve been avoiding? What’s the run I know would change me if I committed?
If this story lit a fire in you — let me know. Drop a comment, or DM me directly.
And if you’re ready to stop waiting for the “perfect moment” and want a coach in your corner who’s been through the heat, the sweat, and the banh mi… book a free discovery call with me, and let’s find your Banh Mi 100.
Yours in running and life,
Daniel Lucchini