I moved to Houston, Texas from Seoul, South Korea when I was 9 years old. I grew up in Houston in a quiet suburban neighborhood, playing lacrosse and Ultimate Frisbee. As a chemical engineering major at UT, I hope to develop a solid academic career and in any case of luck, attend graduate school. But the Spring of 2014 is a long ways away, and until then I have days, weeks, months, and years to make the most out of.
I’m a huge music junkie, and have a passion for expanding my taste in music through other people and experiences. I had a short stint on the trombone back in high school, but realized I was a bigger fan of appreciating music as opposed to producing it. Since I’ve had to walk so much in Austin, I’ve taken the time to properly prepare my music player to keep my ears busy during a walk. Walking time is thinking time, and thinking’s always better with a little bit of music.
However, there’s a side to silence that leaves me awestruck and inspired. Silence from the busyness of a city, silence from the busyness of life in general is an unparalleled refuge. I live life appreciating the mediums but also to enjoy the extremes, from the music-filled days to the silent days.

I was taught never to give up. And the people that taught me that lesson also never gave up. But cancer took them away from me. If I could take cancer away from them, if I could take cancer away from the next person who refuses to give up, I would ride much more than 4500 miles, and ride for far more than 70 days. If my 70 days could change one day in the brave souls who combat cancer everyday, I would never look back. Truth be told, I do regret some things in my life. And if I were to pass up a bike ride from Austin to Anchorage, pass up a symbolism for hope and courage in the battles that took from me the people I love, that’s one regret that I’ll carry for the rest of my life.