To be honest, every day under the dim yellow light in the kitchen, I feel like my life is like a pot of soup—bland and always forgetting to add salt. But one day, I decided to find some excitement for myself, not for any other reason, just to prove that my feet, worn down by slippers, could still run a bit. So, I started my night running journey, and Tsim Sha Tsui became my main battlefield. Why night running? Because I’m afraid of getting tanned during the day, and at night, at least I can be illuminated by the lights of Victoria Harbour, looking like a shining goddess—though after running, I still end up as that housewife, drenched in sweat with hair like a bird's nest.
Why night run in Tsim Sha Tsui?
Hong Kong is as crowded as a can of sardines; running during the day is basically competing for space with tourists, competing for air with buses, and ultimately racing against time. But at night, it’s different, especially in Tsim Sha Tsui, where the lights shine like a city that never sleeps, and the air is cool enough to make you feel like the star of a movie. The wind by the harbour blows in, carrying a hint of salty sea air, and although it occasionally mixes with the scent of bubble tea left behind by tourists, it’s still much more romantic than the smell of dish soap at home.
Moreover, night running has another advantage—no one can see how you run. You can pant like a bull, sweat like it’s raining, and have your hair look like it’s been struck by lightning; anyway, with the lights flickering, who cares if you’re running with “housewife elegance”? Every time I run, I feel like an invisible person, completely free. Occasionally, if a few passersby stare at me, I comfort myself: they must think I’m running too cool, not because my shoelaces are untied.
Recommended route: from the Avenue of Stars to Hung Hom, running for health and stories
My night running route starts from the Avenue of Stars in Tsim Sha Tsui, running along Victoria Harbour all the way to Hung Hom. This route is neither too long nor too short, about five kilometers, suitable for a housewife-level runner like me who thinks about sitting down to eat roast goose after running a few steps. The starting point is the Avenue of Stars, where tourists are taking photos, and the handprints are all of Stephen Chow and Jackie Chan. Every time I run past, I can’t help but think: if I run fast enough, will I also leave a footprint here? But thinking about my size 42 feet, I’d probably take up two spots, so never mind.
Starting from the Avenue of Stars, I run along the waterfront promenade, with Victoria Harbour on my left and those tall buildings that make my neck ache on my right. The lights reflect on the water, like diamonds scattered everywhere, and while I run, I feel like I’m shooting an advertisement—“Hong Kong night run, giving you a different sparkling life!” Of course, the reality is that after ten minutes of running, I’m panting and wishing I could find a bench to lie down like a salted fish. But at this moment, the wind from Victoria Harbour comes in handy, blowing coolly, like free air conditioning, turning me from “barely alive” to “I can run two more steps.”
When I reach the Tsim Sha Tsui Clock Tower, I usually stop for a moment, not because I’m tired (okay, maybe a little tired), but because the view there is just too beautiful. The clock tower stands there like an old-fashioned gentleman, next to the cultural center and the space museum, with colorful lights making me feel like I’ve run into a sci-fi movie. Running further, past Harbour City, the road quiets down, with fewer tourists and more runners. I love this feeling, with old songs from Beyond playing in my headphones, my footsteps matching the beat, and I feel like I’m back in my teenage years—though in my teenage years, I never ran, at most just rushed to grab discounted eggs at the supermarket.
When I reach Hung Hom, the endpoint is near Whampoa Garden, where there’s a small path to loop around for a cool down. After running, I usually find a place to sit down, pretending to drink water with a sense of ceremony, but really just wanting to catch my breath. After running this route, I’ve sweated a lot, but my mood really improves. Looking at the brightly lit Central across Victoria Harbour, I feel quite accomplished—after all, a housewife who almost bought the wrong size of running shoes can run five kilometers and enjoy the night view of Hong Kong; isn’t that a winner in life?
Night running beginner's guide: from “can’t run” to “can’t die”
If you’re like me, someone with less athletic ability than expired milk at the supermarket, don’t be afraid; night running isn’t that hard. When I first started running, even a hundred meters felt like the end of the world, panting like I had just climbed ten flights of stairs (and not the kind with an elevator). But take it slow, and you can really make progress. Here are my unique night running tips as a Hong Kong housewife, guaranteed to be funny and practical.
Step one, gear up, but don’t take it too seriously. The first time I ran, I specifically bought a pair of running shoes, but when I got home, I found they were too big, and I ran like I was wearing slippers. Later, I just wore old sneakers; after all, running is for myself, not for walking the red carpet. As for clothes, just find a loose T-shirt, preferably one that “my husband doesn’t want anymore,” so I can throw it directly into the washing machine after sweating. As for those fancy sports watches, I tried one once, but it kept reminding me that my “heart rate was too high,” scaring me into thinking I was about to run into the hospital, so I just relied on my feelings to run.
Step two, find a good time. You know the life rhythm of a Hong Kong housewife: cooking breakfast in the morning, rushing for fresh vegetables at the market at noon, picking up kids from school in the afternoon, and dealing with the question “What’s for dinner?” from my husband at night. So I usually go out after dinner, after washing the dishes, and putting the kids to bed, around eight o’clock. At this time, the tourists in Tsim Sha Tsui haven’t completely dispersed, but it’s not crowded enough to bump shoulders with people, just right. Remember to let your family know before you go out, or else your husband might think you’ve run away from home—though I do look a bit like I’m escaping when I run.
Step three, don’t be too particular about your running posture. When I first started running, I watched online tutorials on “how to run without hurting your knees,” and the more I ran, the more I felt like a robot, with my joints creaking. Later, I found that the most comfortable posture is just to run casually, however your feet land is fine, after all, no one by Victoria Harbour will laugh at you. The only thing to watch out for is not to run too fast, or you’ll find yourself panting like a steam train, with even the dogs by the roadside running more gracefully than you.
Step four, bring some music for motivation. My running playlist is basically a mix of Jay Chou and Joey Yung, occasionally adding “Boundless Oceans, Vast Skies” to pump myself up. Music is really magical; when I’m tired from running, hearing “Only those who work hard will win,” I can somehow push myself to run another two hundred meters. But don’t turn the volume up too loud, or you won’t hear the bicycle bell behind you; I almost got hit once, and it scared me so much that running instantly turned into “running for my life.”
Step five, don’t stop immediately after running. The first time I finished running, I sat down by the roadside, and my legs felt like they were filled with lead, and the next day I walked like a zombie. Later, I learned that after running, you should walk for a while to let your body recover. Plus, you can pretend you’re just taking a stroll, enjoying the night view of Victoria Harbour, how romantic!
The awkward moments of night running: laughing out abs is faster than running out abs
Running sounds romantic, but it’s not that elegant in practice. While running, I’ve encountered quite a few embarrassing moments, enough to write a book titled “The Awkward Chronicles of a Hong Kong Housewife’s Night Run.” Once, while running, my shoelace came undone, and I didn’t notice; I stepped on it and fell forward, like a slow-motion movie character. A nearby tourist kindly asked me, “Are you OK?” I forced a smile and said, “I’m fine, I’m practicing martial arts!” But what I really thought was: thank goodness it’s dark, no one can see my face turning as red as a tomato.
Another time, I was running vigorously when my stomach suddenly growled—the bowl of wonton noodles I had for dinner started to rebel. I prayed while running that nothing serious would happen, but halfway through, I couldn’t hold it anymore and found a public restroom. When I came out, I comforted myself: running is supposed to make you sweat and release gas, this is called double detox!
The funniest time was when I ran into a street performer playing with fire. The fire hoops were spinning wildly, and I was so focused on running that I bumped right into them, almost becoming a “human torch.” Luckily, the performer reacted quickly and pulled me back, so I didn’t become part of the night view of Victoria Harbour. After that, I always ran around street performers to avoid adding any “special effects” to my run.
The benefits of night running: health, good mood, and a bit of pride
After running for a few months, I found that night running is really more than just sweating. First, my body has improved; I used to pant after climbing two flights of stairs, but now I can run five kilometers without batting an eye. I haven’t lost much weight—after all, I still reward myself with a bowl of sweet soup after running—but at least my pants aren’t as tight, and even my husband said, “You don’t seem as round lately.” This sounds like a compliment but also like an insult, but I choose to take it as him being jealous of my running perseverance.
My mood has really improved too. During the day, I’m as busy as a spinning top, but after running a lap at night, it feels like all my irritations have been blown away by the wind. Looking at the lights of Victoria Harbour, I feel lucky to live in such a beautiful city and to experience it with my own feet. Sometimes after running, when I sit down, I even come up with some philosophical thoughts, like “Life is like night running; it’s tiring, but the scenery is worth it”—of course, this depth usually disappears the moment I drink bubble tea.
What makes me proud is that I actually stuck with it. As a housewife who often gives up halfway through cooking porridge, being able to run two or three times a week is nothing short of a miracle. Every time I finish running, I secretly tell myself, “See, you’re still somewhat useful!” This little pride shines brighter than the lights of Victoria Harbour.
The unexpected gains of night running: getting to know Hong Kong and myself
While running, I found myself getting more familiar with Tsim Sha Tsui. I used to come here just to shop, but now I can clearly say which sections have fewer people, which sections are windier, and even where there are faucets to wash my hands. It feels like turning a tourist spot into my own backyard, so familiar and friendly.
More importantly, I started to get to know myself. It turns out I’m not just a housewife who revolves around the kitchen; I can run, sweat, and feel a bit cool under the lights. Every time I run, I’m competing with myself, running an extra hundred meters today, breathing less tomorrow, and slowly, I discover that my limits are much further than I imagined.
An invitation to night running for Hong Kong housewives
So, if you’re also a Hong Kong housewife who feels like life is a pot of tasteless soup, why not try night running? The lights of Tsim Sha Tsui are waiting for you, the wind of Victoria Harbour is waiting for you, and even my crooked running feet are waiting for you to laugh together. Running isn’t hard; the hard part is taking the first step. As long as you’re willing to put on your shoes, tie your laces, and push open the door, the night view of Hong Kong will tell you: sweat is salty, but life can be very sparkling.
I’m still that Hong Kong housewife, the dishes in the kitchen are still endless, and my husband still asks, “What’s for dinner?” But now, I have an additional identity—night runner. The lights of Tsim Sha Tsui shine brighter than my sweat, and I am more stubborn than the lights. Come on, let’s run together, run for health, run for a good mood, and run for a different version of ourselves!