Van Trang mocked for "carrying two pomelos" after 42km win: "I run with my legs, not with other people’s mouths"

On the early morning of September 6, 2026, while most runners in the 42km race at Y Ty Mua Vang were still fighting the steep slopes of Lao Than, Van Trang crossed the finish line. Her clock stopped at 4 hours 26 minutes. The woman born in 2026, nicknamed Jang Doll, finished first among women and second in the overall classification. Only one male runner was ahead of her. Behind her sat almost the entire rest of the field.

The route was 42km long, with more than 1,300m of cumulative elevation gain, under the 2,860m peak of Lao Than. Thin air, relentless climbs and unforgiving descents made the course cruel. Van Trang said: "There were sections where my body nearly ran out of energy. I focused only on the next few meters, kept my breathing steady, managed my effort and fuelled at the right moments."

I have followed Vietnamese trail running long enough to know that trails do not reward luck. They reward months of training. For a mother of four children, that level of endurance is even more valuable. Van Trang said she does not only run; she also does gym work, swimming and auxiliary exercises. She called it building fitness day by day.

Unfortunately, after her finish-line photos were shared in running groups, some netizens ignored the result. They focused on her chest under a tight sports outfit. They used a crude comparison: "carrying two pomelos while running."

Van Trang did not stay silent. She replied directly: "I dare anyone to carry two pomelos while running 42km or 55km on mountain trails. I run with my legs, not with my looks. People see this as pressure; I treat it as a fresh supply of vitamin C for my spirit."

From a sporting perspective, that answer is not meant to shock. It is accurate. If people treat a woman’s body as decoration, they cannot see the muscle mass, endurance and oxygen efficiency of the person running. But Van Trang knows the law of the road: "Run with your legs, not with other people’s mouths."

In a culture that still measures women by appearance, the achievement of a female athlete always has to perform one extra task: proving its own existence. She ran 42km, climbed more than a thousand meters, left almost all male runners behind, and still the conversation revolved around her chest. That is why her response matters more than a medal.

Asked whether she would wear looser clothes to avoid unwanted attention, she was firm: "Sports clothing must first be comfortable and safe. If I change myself because I fear judgment, I will spend my whole life living under other people’s eyes." Those words may irritate the crowd, but they are the manifesto of a woman who owns her body.

I remember this line: "Public opinion hates a contrarian perspective, but history feeds it with time." Running history is seeing more and more women overcome not only terrain but also prejudice. Van Trang is not a pretty exception. She is one of the people rewriting how society sees Vietnamese female runners: first as athletes, then as women who deserve respectful eyes.

Her next goal is the VMM 70km and, later in 2026, a 100km event. For someone who finished second overall at a mountainous 42km race, that ambition is grounded.

Her journey proves that sport does not need an apology for appearance. It only needs numbers and sweat. And when someone asks how a mother of four can run so fast, the answer is in the way she ended the interview: "I do not need to become the version other people want to see. I just need to become a better version of myself every day."

On the racecourse, the body cannot lie. Outside, people can talk, but the results board is cold and fair. For Van Trang, the story is simple yet heavy: every overthrow begins with a question that should have stayed silent, and she answered with 4 hours 26 minutes.