Van Trang wins women’s 42km at Y Ty Mua Vang 2026: "I run with my legs, not with other people’s mouths"

Lao Than, Lao Cai – 4 hours 26 minutes. Van Trang crossed the finish line of the 42km distance at the 2026 Y Ty Golden Season trail race, completely exhausted. She stopped, rested her hands on her knees, and breathed deeply. Behind her were almost all of the male runners; only one man had finished ahead. In front of her was the champion’s medal of the women’s category. A mother of four, born in 2026, had just entered the race’s history with her own legs. Van Trang, also known as Jang Doll, not only secured first place among women. She placed second overall, ahead of nearly every male runner on a demanding mountain course. In a race where high-altitude terrain offers no mercy, that result cannot be accidental. The 2026 Y Ty Golden Season took place on September 6 in Y Ty commune, Bat Xat district, Lao Cai province. The 42km route has more than 1,300m of accumulated elevation and rises to Mount Lao Than, 2,860m above sea level. Steep slopes and thin air exhausted even experienced runners; many male athletes who were strong on flat roads had to withdraw or walk near the end. About the exhausting climb to the summit, Van Trang said: "The 42km distance has slopes that make the body almost run out of energy. At that moment I only focused on the next part of the road, kept my breathing, distributed my strength and refueled at the right time. I always told myself: stay calm; as long as you have strength, you still have a chance." That is her long-standing principle. Her endurance comes from a serious training regime. In addition to running, she does gym, swimming and supporting exercises to build fitness day after day. If people judge her non-standard body type, they miss the lesson of perseverance: muscle is not only in the thighs, it is also in the ability to listen to the body and push beyond limits. Yet Van Trang’s story did not end at the finish line. After photos of her leaving the awards podium were posted, some online groups turned their attention to her naturally large bust under her fitted sports outfit. Vulgar comments such as "carrying two grapefruits while running" turned an achievement into a joke. Van Trang did not keep silent. She fired back directly: "I dare anyone to carry two grapefruits for 42km or 55km of mountain trails! I run with my legs, I don’t rely on my appearance. People see pressure; I see it as vitamin C for my spirit. What matters is that I still finished and I am happy and healthy. Judge as you wish – I run with my legs, not with other people’s mouths." That blunt statement is actually a manifesto: "For women in sport, effort and achievement must be recognized first. Appearance is a personal matter; achievement is the result of years of training. When you look at a girl on the road, I hope you see someone working to conquer her own limits." The words of a champion should not require justification. Yet society still forces her to explain herself. Asked whether she would dress less tightly or wear looser clothes to avoid stares, Van Trang refused: "Sports clothing must first be comfortable and safe. If I change myself because I fear judgment, I will end up living by other people’s gaze. I choose to focus on the course and my goals." Her response reveals a paradox. We spend hours celebrating the spirit of perseverance, but quickly judge female runners by their body shape. If a man finished second overall, the story would be about admiration. For women, victory is often tied to the question: how did she look while running? This is not limited to Y Ty or the running community; it is deep-rooted gender bias in sport. People often say the running community is civilized and kind, a place where limits are respected. But such kindness seems to exist only on the road. Off the podium, female runners are measured by standards unrelated to performance. Van Trang understands this, so she does not explain her body; she talks about her legs, the kilometers she has covered, thousands of hours of practice. That is enough. The significance of her image goes beyond a medal. It is the way she turns pressure into vitamin C and unkind words into motivation. Many women after childbirth avoid sport because they are afraid of being stared at and judged. They forget that a body that carried children, nursed them and survived sleepless nights is strong, not a mistake to hide. I have been following women’s sport for nearly five decades. I have seen female footballers asked about love lives after finals, female cyclists asked about their sunburned skin instead of tactics. Today Van Trang is asked about her chest after beating hundreds of male runners. Every time a female athlete crosses the finish line, a prejudice breaks. But every time they are insulted, that prejudice regrows in a new form. Van Trang believes marathon teaches that life is not always run under perfect conditions. Compliments make her happy; criticism helps her reflect; malicious comments are ignored. Her journey proves a philosophy: you cannot control other people’s tongues, but you can always control your own feet. Y Ty is over, but her journey is not. She plans to conquer the 70km Ultra Trail at VMM, one of Vietnam’s most prestigious trail races, and to try 100km at the end of the year. For her, these races are no longer merely physical challenges; they assert a place in a discipline often assumed to belong to men. Before leaving Lao Than, she left a sentence that will follow her on new roads: "Let results speak. I don’t need to become the version others want to see. Every day I just need to become a better version of myself." Her results are loud. But are we brave enough to listen? In my years of writing about sport, I still keep a phrase for myself: people see a match; I see destinies passing the ball. At Y Ty, people saw a woman with a bust to gossip about; I saw a mother of four stepping over prejudice with every stride. There are lessons that are never rejected – even when they do not fit the script of those who love to judge. Van Trang’s story is not meant to prove women can run as fast as men. It reminds us that a woman’s body is her own: it can give birth, breastfeed, climb Lao Than, run 100km. No permission or justification is needed. All it needs is respect. You can mock a woman’s appearance, but you cannot take away the achievements she earned with sweat. When the gate of Y Ty village disappears into the mountain mist, race results will be recorded. But people may not remember exactly how fast the male winner ran. They will remember Van Trang – mother of four, nicknamed Jang Doll – and how she answered body shamers with a sharp sentence: "I run with my legs, not with other people’s mouths.""