Chapter 47: Humbled by the Mountains

The early morning air in the Kenyan highlands was crisp and thin, the kind that stung the lungs with each breath. Rohan Singh stood at the edge of the track, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts as he tried to adjust to the altitude. The sun was just beginning to rise over the distant peaks, casting a soft golden light over the landscape. It was a breathtaking sight, but Rohan could barely appreciate it—his focus was entirely on the challenge ahead.

The first few days at the training camp had been a humbling experience. Rohan had always prided himself on his endurance and strength, but here, in the thin air of the mountains, he was struggling. Every step felt like a battle, his muscles burning with the effort as his lungs worked overtime to draw in the oxygen his body desperately needed. The other athletes around him, many of whom were seasoned professionals, seemed to glide effortlessly over the ground, their movements fluid and controlled.

Rohan had expected the training to be tough, but this was on a whole different level. The altitude made everything harder—the sprints, the long runs, even the simple act of climbing a flight of stairs left him winded. He found himself

lagging behind during group runs, the gap between him and the frontrunners growing wider with each lap. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Rohan knew he had no choice but to keep pushing.

"Again!" the coach's voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. He was a tall, imposing figure with a deep voice that carried across the track. "You have to push through the pain! The altitude is your friend—it will make you stronger if you let it."

Rohan nodded, gritting his teeth as he lined up for another set of sprints. His legs felt like lead, his lungs burning with every breath, but he forced himself to focus. He couldn't afford to let the others outpace him. This was why he was here—to train with the best, to push his limits, and to become the runner he needed to be.

The whistle blew, and Rohan took off, his feet pounding against the track as he pushed himself forward. The world around him blurred as he focused on the lane ahead, every muscle in his body straining with the effort. He could feel the lactic acid building in his legs, the familiar burning sensation spreading through his muscles, but he refused to slow down.

The first 100 meters passed in a flash, but as he rounded the bend, Rohan could feel his pace faltering. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, his vision narrowing as he fought to stay on track. The other runners were pulling ahead, their strides powerful and unrelenting. Rohan tried to dig deeper, to find that extra reserve of energy, but it was like running through quicksand—every step felt harder than the last.

By the time he crossed the finish line, Rohan was completely spent. He stumbled to the side of the track, his chest heaving as he bent over, trying to catch his breath. His legs trembled beneath him, threatening to give out, but he refused to let himself collapse. He couldn't show any weakness, not here.

The coach walked over, his expression inscrutable as he looked Rohan up and down. "You're struggling," he said, his tone matter-of-fact. "But that's to be expected. The altitude is a challenge for everyone, especially if you're not used to it."

Rohan nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "I'll get used to it," he said, his voice hoarse.

The coach raised an eyebrow. "Will you? Or will you let it break you?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. Rohan knew that this was a test—not just of his physical endurance, but of his mental strength as well. He had come here to train with the best, to push himself to the limit, but now he was beginning to understand just how far he still had to go.

"I won't let it break me," Rohan said, his voice steady despite the exhaustion. "I'll push through."

The coach nodded, a hint of approval in his eyes. "Good. Because that's what it will take to succeed here. This altitude, these mountains—they don't care how fast you were back home. They will humble you, strip you down to your core, and force you to confront your weaknesses. But if you can endure it, if you can push through the pain and keep going, you'll come out stronger on the other side."

Rohan nodded, his resolve hardening. He knew that the coach was right. The mountains were unforgiving, but they were also a crucible—a place where he could forge himself into the athlete he needed to be. It wouldn't be easy, but nothing worth achieving ever was.

The rest of the day was a blur of grueling workouts and relentless drills. The coaches pushed the athletes harder than Rohan had ever experienced, demanding nothing less than perfection. Every session left him exhausted, his muscles aching and his body crying out for rest, but he refused to give in. He had come too far to turn back now.

That evening, as Rohan sat in his cabin, his body sore and his mind weary, he couldn't help but reflect on how much had changed in just a few days. The confidence he had felt back in India, the pride in his accomplishments, now seemed distant and insignificant. Here, in the mountains of Kenya, he was just another runner, one who still had a long way to go.

But rather than discouraging him, the experience only fueled Rohan's determination. He knew that this was what he needed—a reality check, a reminder that there was always more to learn, always more room to improve. He had seen what true greatness looked like, and he wanted to be part of it. He wanted to be the kind of runner who could compete on the world stage, who could stand alongside the best and hold his own.

As he lay down to sleep that night, the sounds of the Kenyan wilderness filling the air around him, Rohan made a promise to himself. He would give everything he had to this camp, to the training, to the challenges ahead. He would let the mountains humble him, break him down, and then build him back up stronger than before.

Because that was the only way to reach his goal—the only way to become the runner he was meant to be.