The Marathon Never Ends: Honouring the Women Who Came Before Us | Sophie Jing

Some conversations stay with you long after the microphones are switched off.

Not because of what was said, but because something about the person quietly lingers.

That was my experience with Sophie Jing.

At first glance, it would be easy to describe Sophie by her achievements. She is a marathon runner. An author. A mother. A PhD researcher. Yet as our conversation unfolded, I realised none of those titles captured the essence of who she is.

If I had to describe Sophie in a single word, it would be becoming.

We often speak about identity as though it is something we eventually discover, like arriving at a destination after years of searching. We ask children what they want to be when they grow up, as though the question will finally be answered one day.

Sophie sees it differently.

For her, identity is not a destination. It is an ongoing conversation with life.

Perhaps that explains why curiosity appears to be the thread that quietly stitches together every chapter of her story. Curiosity led her from science into education. It transformed motherhood into research. It turned running into reflection. Every stage of her life began not with certainty, but with a question she was willing to live with.

There was one moment that particularly stayed with me.

When Sophie first arrived in New Zealand as a young international student, she found herself in an English class surrounded by other Chinese students. Many were hesitant to speak, worried about making mistakes or standing out. Yet despite speaking imperfect English herself, she volunteered to introduce herself.

She stood in front of the class and simply said,

"I want to be a bridge between China and New Zealand."

Looking back, it almost feels as though she unknowingly described her life's work.

Not simply between two countries.

But between generations.

Between cultures.

Between the women who came before her and the young women who will follow after.

The deeper I listened, the more I realised this bridge began long before Sophie.

It began with her grandmother.

Her grandmother, born in 1935, lived through extraordinary periods of Chinese history. Yet what she handed down was not simply stories of survival. She passed on a way of seeing the world.

She encouraged Sophie to read widely, to write constantly, and perhaps most importantly, to question.

Even when Sophie became pregnant, her grandmother's first concern was not whether she had prepared the baby's room.

Instead, she asked,

"Are you still reading the news?"

Then she reminded her,

"Becoming a mother doesn't mean closing your door to the world."

I found those words profoundly moving.

How often do we unknowingly close our own doors?

We tell ourselves that once we become parents, professionals, partners, or simply older, our world becomes smaller. We stop asking questions. We stop exploring. We quietly accept the identities that society hands to us.

Yet Sophie refuses to accept that life works this way.

Her grandmother taught her to see herself not simply as a woman fulfilling expectations, but first and foremost as a human being who remained endlessly curious.

That inheritance now lives on in her research.

Rather than treating young women as subjects to be studied, she invites them to become co-researchers. Rather than assuming older generations have finished speaking, she listens carefully to the wisdom they still carry. She creates conversations where grandmothers, mothers, daughters and future generations can meet.

Not because she already knows the answers.

But because she believes wisdom grows when we continue asking better questions.

Perhaps that is why I was so struck by her response when I asked what she would say to her younger self.

She wouldn't change anything.

Not because every decision was perfect.

Not because life had been without struggle.

But because every choice was the best choice she could make with the understanding she had at the time.

Without those constraints, she believes she could not have become who she is today.

There is something quietly liberating about that.

So much of our lives is spent wondering what might have happened if only we had chosen differently.

Sophie gently reminds us that reflection is not about rewriting our past.

It is about allowing our past to become wisdom.

Towards the end of our conversation, I asked what she would say to young women today.

I expected advice.

Instead, she offered something far more generous.

She questioned why we describe women as "brave" simply for choosing their own path.

Perhaps authenticity should not require bravery.

Perhaps it should simply be part of being human.

Then she spoke directly to the next generation.

"We see each other. We support each other. Let's continue together."

Those words felt less like encouragement and more like an invitation.

An invitation to keep becoming.

Not becoming someone else.

Not becoming what society expects.

But becoming more fully ourselves.

Perhaps that is the quiet gift Sophie offers the world.

She reminds us that life isn't measured by how quickly we arrive, but by whether we remain open enough to keep growing.

And maybe that is why her story feels so much like a marathon.

Not because of the finish line.

But because there isn't one.

Full Podcast: The Marathon Never Ends: Honouring the Women Who Came Before Us | Sophie Jing