Moving Forward Despite Uncertainty: My Wushu Journey

Written by: Teo Jia Hao, Lucas (4i4, 2026)

What happens when hard work no longer guarantees success, and confidence does not come easily? For Lucas, the answer is to keep moving forward despite uncertainty. From competing in his first National School Games at eight to representing Singapore at the World Junior Wushu Championships, his Wushu journey has been shaped by setbacks, injuries and moments of self-doubt. As a proud recipient of the Singapore Schools Sports Council (SSSC) 2026 Colours Award – Best Sportsboy Award (Wushu), Lucas reflects on how these experiences have taught him that resilience is not about having all the answers or feeling completely ready, but about taking the next step even when uncertainty remains.

When I first started learning Wushu, I was drawn to the excitement of its movements—the kicks, jumps and techniques that seemed almost impossible to execute. I competed in my first National School Games at just eight years old, winning two medals in a field of competitors much older than me. What began as a fun interest gradually grew into a lifelong passion, and by the age of ten, I had entered the National Youth Team.

At that time, Wushu felt relatively straightforward: train hard, perform better and work towards the next goal.

However, as I grew older, progress no longer came as easily. I became more susceptible to injuries, faced greater expectations, and, most importantly, realised that effort did not always translate directly into improvement. I felt this most acutely when I entered the higher age categories at 12. I struggled to adapt to the increasingly difficult jumps and consistently underperformed at competitions and trials.

For the first time in my Wushu journey, no matter how hard or persistently I trained, I seemed to face failure after failure. I vividly remember asking my coach, “I’m training so hard every day. Why am I still failing?”

His response was simple: “Don’t need to know why. Just train.”

At the time, I did not understand what he meant. I thought that if I could identify the reasons behind my failures, I would know how to overcome them. Yet, I was never given a definite answer—only the same instruction to return to training. It took me several years to understand what my coach was trying to teach me.

In 2025, I was preparing for the trials for the 10th World Junior Wushu Championships. Representing Singapore at the competition would have been one of the most significant milestones of my Wushu journey. However, during the trials, I suffered the most serious injury of my Wushu journey—a glute muscle tear.

I remember limping off the carpet in tears, not because of the pain, but because I feared that my dreams were over.

Fortunately, the federation gave me an unexpected second chance: an opportunity to compete at the World Junior Championships. With only four months before the competition, however, what followed was far from a dramatic comeback. It was messy, frustrating and uncertain.

I could not afford to rest for long. I had to return to training and practise the very kick that had caused my injury, even though my leg had not fully recovered and my mind was filled with hesitation. Each time I attempted the kick, I was reminded of the injury. I would often stop halfway through the movement or back away completely.

With just two weeks remaining before the World Junior Championships, I was still struggling to complete the kick consistently. My confidence was shattered.

That was when I realised that I had spent so much time waiting for my fear to disappear that I had forgotten to focus on the execution itself. I kept hoping that I would somehow regain the confidence I had before the injury, and that the uncertainty surrounding the kick would simply fade away.

But perhaps I was waiting for something that might never come.

Instead of allowing my fear to stop me from moving forward, I realised that I had to accept its presence and take the next step despite it.

I carried this mindset with me to the World Junior Championships, and it made all the difference. My fears did not completely disappear, but I no longer allowed them to prevent me from performing. I eventually won medals in two of my three events—one silver and one bronze. I was also honoured with the Singapore Schools Sports Council Best Sportsboy Award.

To me, these achievements were more than accolades. They were proof of something far more meaningful: I did not need absolute certainty or perfect confidence to perform at my best.

Looking back, I am deeply grateful to my parents, teachers, coaches and teammates who have guided me through every setback and injury. Wushu has taught me that success is not about having all the answers or feeling completely ready every time.

“Don’t need to know why. Just train.”

At 12, those words frustrated me because they did not give me the certainty I desperately wanted. Today, they carry a very different meaning. They remind me not to overanalyse every failure or fear, but to focus on what is within my control and keep moving forward.

Uncertainty will always be part of the journey. What matters is whether we allow it to hold us back—or choose to take the next step despite it.