April — the month that didn't ask permission
——————
I thought April Fool's was just a date.
Turns out, April had jokes planned all along.
Work hit different this month.
Loud. Relentless. Unforgiving.
Training entered peak phase.
The legs were heavy.
The schedule was heavier.
And then — she came back.
I didn't see it coming.
Nobody plans for that.
One moment the chapter felt closed,
and then suddenly — there she was again.
Same name. Different timing.
And a version of me that didn't know what to do with either.
My head became a city that never sleeps.
Noise from every direction.
Work. Miles. Her. Repeat.
So I did the only thing I could control.
Every morning. 15 minutes. Pen and paper.
Morning pages — just me, the silence, and whatever needed to get out.
It didn't fix everything.
But it made the noise a little smaller.
And sometimes, that's enough to keep moving.
April taught me this:
You can't always quiet the chaos around you.
But you can choose how you meet it — every single morning.
——————
March
——————
A concert with family.
A table full of food back in the village.
Laughter that needed no reason.
Night run at 1AM.
Sahur on the side of the road.
Morning CFD with people who've seen my worst — and still showed up to run.
Bukber with only three of us.
Because the rest already have their own worlds now.
But maybe that's how you find out who's real.
Hanging at a friend's new place.
Talking until time forgot itself.
With people who knew my name before I knew myself.
March was full.
Full of footsteps, full of tables, full of people who make the noise feel like home.
But somewhere in between —
there was one space left quiet.
One message still unanswered.
And I kept moving anyway — because that's all you can do.
Grateful for what came.
At peace with what didn't.
When the City Is Still Asleep
——————
01:30.
Most people were still in bed.
We were lacing up.
No plan. No clear route.
Just — ya udah, ke alun-alun dulu.
And somehow, that was enough.
15 kilometers.
1 hour, 50 minutes.
A city at night, full of people waiting for sahur — and two idiots running through it.
This isn’t just a training partner.
This is someone who’s been beside me since kindergarten.
Drum band. Dance competitions. Shared chaos since before we knew what any of it meant.
And now — sahur runs at 1 in the morning.
Some friendships don’t need explanation.
They just show up. Every time.
Ramadan teaches you discipline.
But a 2AM long run teaches you something else —
that the hardest part is never the distance.
It’s getting out the door.
Once you move, the rest follows.
The August That Changed Everything
——————
There are months that pass quietly, and there are months that leave a mark so deep, you carry them long after the calendar moves on.
August 2025 was that kind of month.
It began with a stage, a name called out loud, and a mother standing beside me.
And somewhere in that crowded hall, I finally met the faces behind the screens — four years of Zoom squares suddenly became real human beings, real warmth.
But August wasn't finished with me yet.
Days later, I stood at the base of Merbabu — Suwanting trail — with the same people who had shared my ordinary days.
The sky was uncertain. Heavy. We climbed anyway.
By Pos 2, the rain came without apology.
Cold. Relentless. Unforgiving.
What was supposed to be 6 to 8 hours stretched into 10.
The mountain set its own terms, and we had no choice but to accept them.
That night, surrounded by fog and instant noodles warming in the dark, I understood something.
Exhaustion, when shared, becomes sacred.
It stops being suffering and starts becoming story.
Morning came slowly. We summited.
The view — even through tired eyes — was honest in a way that comfort never is.
Some went back to sleep.
Some went straight to work.
But all of us carried something the mountain gave — something that cannot be measured, only felt.
August didn't ask if I was ready.
It simply arrived — and demanded everything.
And everything I gave, it returned tenfold.
——————
📍 Mount Merbabu via Suwanting
🎓 S1 — done.
🏔️ Summit — done.
❤️ August — unforgettable.
#merbabu
#wisuda
#august2025
