1,000 km in 12 days: Project 1000’s unique approach to advocacy for the less fortunate worldwide
Natalie Dau, founder of Project 1000, shares how she has learned to redefine success, how vulnerability has led her to take the path less travelled, and how every step she takes is a stride towards collective empowerment and change.
By Clarissa Ryanputri /
“How They See It” is where we delve into the minds of those shaping the future of today’s most dynamic companies. In this instalment, we speak with Natalie Dau, founder of Project 1000, endurance athlete, author and motivational speaker. She shares how her physical feats became a medium for advocacy, why vulnerability is her most powerful asset, and how connection, community, and courage can transform lives far beyond the finish line.
“On the first day of my Project 1000 run from Thailand to Singapore, my hip gave out.
I’d spent months training, just for my body to fail me when I was beginning an endeavour I’d trained relentlessly for. That moment, standing still when I should have been moving, was utterly shattering. It wasn’t the pain itself that was the hardest, but the immediate rush of doubt and shame that followed.
My first thought was disbelief, then fear: “This seriously can’t be happening. What a fraud I’ll look like if I pull out on day one!” I’d taken on this 1,000km solo run as a challenge, yes, but also a calling. To raise awareness, to bring hope to underserved communities, to show that age isn’t a barrier to what we can achieve.
All the self-imposed pressure, the fear of letting down my team, the charities, and everyone who believed in me, was far more paralysing than any physical discomfort.
The hardest part was finding the courage to reset, to ignore the enormity of the 917km ahead, and simply tell myself: “One foot in front of the other. Just get through the next hour.”
That moment, more than any finish line or medal, is the one I return to most. It forced me to stop seeing strength as something seamless. That day was the beginning of my journey to embrace vulnerability and find the resilience that comes from showing up anyway.
For over twenty years, I lived and breathed the corporate rhythm. I believed in it because I was good at it. But something in me shifted. I wanted more than boardrooms and performance reviews. I wanted an impact that felt personal. I wanted a purpose I could feel in my bones.
So I stepped away.
The transition wasn’t graceful. After leaving my career behind, I was met with a different kind of pressure — the kind that isn’t always visible but is deeply ingrained. These were the quiet, often unspoken assumptions about what is age-appropriate, what success should look like at this stage of life, and whether reinvention is even possible.
I wrestled not only with external perceptions but also with my own internalised beliefs about settling down or fading into the background. But I also just knew I needed to chase something real.
That chase led me through world records, across borders, and into spaces I never imagined. My passion for exploring human potential has led to setting World Records and achieving physical feats that most people think are impossible, as well as sharing stories on social media with millions of people. It has even led me to motivational speaking, documentary production, and becoming an author.
I ran 1000km from Thailand to Singapore in 12 days. Eleven months later, I repeated the same process in the Philippines. Each journey stripped me down and built me anew, but the fundamental transformation came from what happened along the way.
In the Philippines, I ran through remote towns where children lined the roads cheering. Witnessing the spirit of “bayanihan”, the Filipino tradition of community cooperation, along with the kindness and generosity of those we met, left a lasting impression. That journey redefined everything. It became less about personal achievement and more about connection, empathy, and collective transformation. Through this, I witnessed how impact was amplified through unity.
My true gratification doesn’t come from the cheers at the finish line or the accolades that accompany setting a record. While those moments are meaningful, the most profound sense of fulfilment for me stems from creating real, tangible impact within the community.
People often mistake what I do as a showcase of unbreakable strength, or assume that my advocacy is solely about the physical feat itself. Some see the 1,000km runs and assume I’m some kind of superwoman, immune to doubt or vulnerability. They think it’s just about winning races, pushing limits for personal glory.
However, the truth is that my advocacy is profoundly rooted in vulnerability and the complexity of finding purpose. It’s not about running; it’s about making change in society, getting people to move, literally and figuratively, out of their comfort zones.
Above all, it’s about giving children in underserved communities the chance to break the cycle and chase their dreams. I choose to run through remote and poorer communities to try and build a connection across cultures and support those less fortunate. It’s less about the individual triumph and far more about the collective ripple effect of hope and empowerment.
Today, I speak around the world. My story has changed with me. What began as a tale of personal endurance has grown into something else: a message about connection. My journey is no longer just mine; it’s a shared story of humanity and of what we can build together.
The hardest part of what I do isn’t physical. It’s emotional. It’s pushing back against invisible ceilings that still hang above women — especially mothers and older women — telling us we should slow down, stay safe, and disappear quietly.
I won’t.
If I could go back in time, I would take a quiet moment to pull my past self aside. I would look myself in the eye and say, “Nat, it is okay to feel vulnerable. In fact, that vulnerability you are afraid of will become your greatest source of strength.”
I would tell her that the fear of not being good enough, of being exposed as an impostor, or of letting others down is just noise that does not deserve her energy. Trust the process. Embrace the chaos and uncertainty, for that is where true transformation resides.
Most importantly, I would remind her that this journey is not about proving anything to others. It is about showing yourself what you are truly made of. Lean into community, connect deeply, and let your purpose fuel you. The joy, fulfilment, and impact ahead will be worth every step. Keep going.”