I remember the exact moment I knew something had to change. It was a steamy Saturday morning in Singapore, the air already thick with humidity. I was three weeks into training for a half marathon. Instead of feeling that familiar runner’s high, I was limping home, a sharp, biting pain searing through my knee with every step. It was my old foe, IT Band Syndrome, back for another unwelcome visit.
I felt utterly defeated. My runs through my favourite parks—from the lush trails of MacRitchie to the waterfront at Marina Bay—were my stress relief, my thinking time, my identity. But my body was starting to refuse. I was stuck in an exhausting, kiasu cycle: push too hard, get injured, rest, lose fitness, then start all over again, feeling more fragile each time. I was so focused on going further and faster that I’d forgotten how to simply move better.
One afternoon, feeling particularly knackered and disheartened, I cut through a neighbourhood park. And that’s where I saw them. A group of people of all ages, moving in slow, graceful unison under the rain trees. They weren’t running, yet they possessed a strength and a serenity I craved. They were practising Tai Chi.
Intrigued, I signed up for a beginner’s class at my local community centre the following week. Little did I know, I wasn’t just adding a new exercise to my routine; I was about to learn the missing piece that would completely transform my running.
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The Unlikely Synergy: What Tai Chi Taught My Runner’s Body
Walking into that first class, I’ll admit I felt a bit silly. As someone used to pounding the pavement under the Singapore sun, moving at this glacial pace felt… unproductive. How could this possibly help me run?
My Sifu (teacher), a wonderfully calm woman named Lin, must have sensed my scepticism. She smiled and said, “Running is like the melody of a song. It’s powerful and direct. But Tai Chi is the harmony beneath it. You can’t hear it as clearly, but it’s what makes the music rich and whole.”
That quote stayed with me. And as the weeks went by, practising in the cool of the morning before the heat set in, I began to understand what she meant. Here’s how this ancient art became the perfect harmony to my running melody.
1. It Built a Body of Armour, Not Just Muscle
Running had made me strong in one direction: forwards. But my stabilising muscles—the ones that protect your knees and ankles on uneven pathways—were snoozing. Tai Chi woke them up.
We’d spend what felt like an eternity simply shifting our weight from one leg to the other, our knees bent, feeling the muscles in our feet and ankles engage to keep us steady. It was humbling. I could run from my HDB to the hawker centre and back, but holding a low pose for 60 seconds had my legs trembling! This wasn’t about building bulk; it was about building a resilient, armoured frame that could handle impact. My runs soon felt surer, especially on the trails around Bukit Timah, as if my body finally trusted itself again.
2. I Learned to Breathe (Properly!)
As runners, we think we know how to breathe. But I was a classic chest-breather, especially in our humidity—short, panicky gasps that left me lightheaded and knackered.
Tai Chi is a moving meditation rooted in breath, or 气 (qì). Every single movement is tied to an inhale or an exhale. Sifu Lin taught me to breathe from my diaphragm, to let my belly expand like a balloon filling with air. This deep, rhythmic breathing calms the nervous system and floods the muscles with oxygen.
The first time I consciously used this breath on a hill climb up the Henderson Waves bridge, I was astounded. Instead of tensing up and fighting it, I breathed through it. I reached the top feeling powerful, not panicked. It was a revelation.
3. My Form Found Its Flow
I thought I had good form. Then I saw myself on a video my friend took at East Coast Park: hunched shoulders, a tense neck, and a stride that looked more like a stumble. I was wasting so much energy.
Tai Chi is all about posture: spine long, shoulders dropped, head floating upwards as if pulled by a string. It teaches you to initiate movement from your core, your centre of gravity. This engagement creates incredible stability.
Without even thinking about it, this started to seep into my runs. I found myself naturally relaxing my shoulders, engaging my core on tired miles, and landing more lightly. I felt more efficient, like a well-oiled machine instead of a clunky engine. The best part? That niggling knee pain began to fade. By strengthening the scaffolding, the building was no longer crumbling.
More Than Physical: The Quiet Revolution in My Mind
The physical benefits were undeniable, but the greatest gift Tai Chi gave me was mental.
Running was my time to think. To solve problems, to worry about work, to plan my weekend. My mind was as busy as the Orchard Road traffic. Tai Chi forced it to be quiet. You cannot perform the slow, complex sequences while mentally figuring out what to eat for dinner. You have to be present. You have to focus on the feeling of your feet on the ground, the shift of weight, the flow of your arms.
This practice in mindfulness was a game-changer. My runs began to transform from a mental battleground into a moving meditation. I started to notice the cool air in the morning, the sound of birdsong even in the heart of the city, the rhythm of my breath. I was finally present. I’d discovered that elusive ‘flow state’ without even trying.
Your First Steps: How to Weave Tai Chi Into Your Running Life
You don’t need to become a master to feel the benefits. Here’s how I started, and how you can too:
- Find a Local Class: Singapore is fantastic for this. Affordable community classes are available at almost every Community Centre (CC). You can also find groups practising in the beautiful, sprawling grounds of the Chinese Garden or the Botanic Gardens in the early morning.
- Start with 10 Minutes: I began by doing 10 minutes of basic Tai Chi movements after my easy runs. It became the perfect warm-down, aiding my recovery and easing me into a state of calm before I started my day.
- Learn Just Three Things:
- The Stance: Stand with feet shoulder-width apart, knees soft. Feel your weight evenly distributed. Just breathe and feel grounded for a minute.
- Weight Shifting: Gently rock forward and back, then side to side, transferring your weight completely. This is your foundation.
- “Wave Hands Like Clouds”: This was the first form I learned. It’s a beautiful, flowing movement that teaches coordination, breath work, and hip rotation. It’s my go-to.
A Journey, Not a Destination
My relationship with running is completely different now. I no longer see it as a fight against my body, but a partnership with it. Some days are for speed along the Singapore Sports Hub, some are for slow, mindful miles on the Southern Ridges, and all are supported by the strength and serenity I cultivate with Tai Chi.
I still get that incredible runner’s high. But now, I also get a Tai Chi calm. They are the perfect yin and yang. If you feel like you’re fighting your body, stuck in a cycle of niggles and frustration, I urge you to give it a try. You might just find the harmony your running has been missing.
I am sharing my personal experience of integrating Tai Chi into my training routine. I am not a qualified medical professional, certified personal trainer, or licensed Tai Chi instructor.
The information contained in this article is for educational and informational purposes only. It is not intended as medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment. You should always consult with a qualified healthcare professional, such as your GP at a polyclinic or a physiotherapist, before beginning any new exercise or wellness programme, especially if you have any pre-existing health conditions, injuries, or concerns.
The results and experiences I have described are my own and may not be typical. Individual results will vary. Listen to your body and never disregard professional medical advice or delay seeking it because of something you have read here.
Participating in any form of physical activity, including running and Tai Chi, carries inherent risks. You assume all responsibility for your safety and well-being.
