Test at the Summit

The fifth morning had arrived, bringing with it a physical test that, at first glance, seemed more challenging than the previous ones. We found ourselves in the midst of the mountains, surrounded by a rugged landscape shrouded in mist at the higher elevations. The cool air brushed against our cheeks as the first rays of sunlight barely illuminated the path. The officials gathered in front of us to explain the details of the day's test: a round trip of 18 kilometers through the mountainous terrain."The outbound path will be steep and challenging," they explained, pointing to the ascent we would have to face. "But the return, while easier, will test your endurance after the initial effort. In the end, what matters is the total time of the entire group."We looked at one another, aware that this would not be an ordinary test. Although we were allowed to advance at our own pace, each of us knew that the final score depended not only on our individual performance but also on the group average. If someone lagged behind, the entire team would suffer the consequences.Silence fell for a moment as the information sank in. As if this test wasn't enough, the officials reminded us that on the seventh day, there would be a relay race. Everything seemed designed not only to physically push us but also to forge our cooperation as a team.The terrain, with its rocky paths and steep inclines, promised to be difficult. I could feel the mountain air growing colder, and the birds began to stretch awake with their songs, as if marking the beginning of our journey. Some started stretching, mentally preparing for the race. Others gazed at the horizon, perhaps calculating the challenge ahead.We knew that individual strategy could be a double-edged sword. Moving quickly could mean gaining an advantage, but if the group suffered from poor collective performance, it wouldn't matter who crossed the finish line first. Everything depended on our balance as a team, measuring our strengths, and ensuring no one fell too far behind.Upon hearing the whistle marking the start of the test, the group immediately divided: some began to run with determination, while others chose to walk at a controlled pace, calculating their strength for the second half of the journey. The ground crunched under our feet, and the initial slope seemed endless, but we knew this was only the beginning of a much greater challenge....As we advanced at a controlled pace, our step was closer to a brisk walk than a run. The mountainous terrain demanded our concentration, but the constant sound of our footsteps on the stony ground created a rhythm that kept us focused. I observed my classmates as we moved forward; their breathing was steady and synchronized. They had worked hard all year to reach this level of endurance. I had "convinced" them—perhaps a bit more than usual—to commit to training at least four times a week, knowing that future exams would be unpredictable and demanding.Fortunately, my classmates didn't need much persuasion. They all kept their word, and now, as we walked briskly toward the first half of the test, it was clear that their efforts had paid off. We were moving at a rapid yet controlled pace. The mountains loomed majestically around us, and the fresh air, filled with the scent of pine and damp earth, revitalized us, despite the physical challenge.Of course, there were three people who didn't belong to our class. Hirata, with his good physical condition, maintained the pace without issues, thanks to his training in football. Kitou, who seemed like someone who didn't spend much time outside the gym, even appeared to enjoy the challenge, advancing without showing signs of fatigue. As for Tokitou, it was evident that, although he stayed in good shape, he wasn't at the same level as the other two. However, his performance was not disappointing, which gave me some peace of mind. I knew I could count on him to keep pace.As we approached the first checkpoint, I turned to the group, feeling the adrenaline rise. I knew that if we wanted to win this test, we would have to push ourselves more. Much more.—Let's pick up the pace a bit —I said aloud, causing everyone to look at me for a moment before nodding.Immediately, we went from walking to a gentle jog. The path, increasingly steep and covered with loose stones, made it more complicated to maintain the rhythm. I felt everyone's legs beginning to adapt to the uneven terrain, and although fatigue threatened to set in, the group held firm, their breathing still controlled. As we advanced, the sound of our steps on the rocky ground mingled with the whisper of the wind through the trees.The slope of the terrain and the stones rolling under our feet constantly reminded us that we were in the mountains. Each step required more effort, but none of us complained. We were determined to give our best.Finally, we reached the turnaround point, the 9 kilometers. We had arrived faster than I expected, but now came the most complicated part: the return. While the return would be easier in terms of slope, our bodies had already been put to the test, and my plan to increase speed would only make things harder. I looked at my group, observing the sweat on their foreheads, the focused looks in their eyes, and I knew that, despite the fatigue, they were ready to give their all.—Let's go for first place —I said with determination, not giving them time to complain or relax. The real test began now, and I was ready to demand a little more from them.The sun began to rise in the sky, and with it, the pressure on our shoulders. The return path awaited us, and with each step we took, the desire for victory grew stronger....It had taken us 1 hour and 17 minutes to complete the first half of the route, a pretty good time. Looking back and seeing no one nearby, I knew we were in the lead. It wasn't hard to guess; most teenagers don't take physical training seriously, so although this was a brisk walk, many would have struggled to keep up the pace. I knew that in my group, everyone had made a continuous effort to stay in shape. Overall, we were the most complete group.Now that we were starting the descent, the pace naturally increased. The path was easier, and I noticed how our footsteps resonated more strongly as we propelled ourselves downward. I mentally calculated the time: at a pace of 5 minutes per kilometer, we could cover the remaining 9 kilometers in about 45 minutes. An excellent time if we could maintain it.As we ran, I noticed how my classmates' breathing began to accelerate. Although my classmates still maintained good control over their breathing, Kitou and Tokitou looked more fatigued. I could see sweat running down their foreheads, their breaths more labored. It wouldn't surprise me if they needed to stop soon. Still, I knew that even if they took a two- or three-minute break, the group as a whole wouldn't be significantly affected. My stronger classmates could maintain the pace, and we would cover the final stretch without problems.I made a decision. I looked at the group, sped up a bit, and warned them:—I'm going to take the lead. Keep this pace, and if you can, pick it up without stopping.They nodded as I pulled ahead, leaving behind the sound of their footsteps fading among the trees. Now I was running alone, focused on my own breaths, on the sound of the wind weaving through the branches, and on the crunch of leaves beneath my feet. The landscape around me grew more vibrant with each step: the singing of birds, the scent of damp earth and pines. It was a nearly perfect moment of calm amidst the competition.But something caught my attention.To my right, among the trees, a wild boar suddenly appeared, watching me with its small, bright eyes. My heart skipped a beat. They hadn't warned us about wild animals, though it probably didn't pose a real threat unless it felt threatened. For a moment, I felt tempted to get closer, curious to see it up close, but I knew I didn't have time for distractions. I sighed and ignored it, turning my attention back to the path. The boar disappeared into the underbrush, and I continued running until I spotted the finish line in the distance.Finally, the finish line appeared before me. The place was empty, which gave me a sense of satisfaction: I was the first to arrive. My breathing was slightly quickened, but I still felt strong. I approached one of the staff members, who looked at me in surprise."Am I the first?" I asked in a relaxed tone."That's right," he confirmed with a smile. I felt relieved, but I didn't let that feeling relax me too much. Minutes later, the rest of my group appeared. Just as I had planned, everyone had arrived at a good pace. Hirata, with his athletic experience, led the group, followed by the others. My classmates kept their promise and didn't stop. Kitou and Tokitou arrived at the end, exhausted, but they had fulfilled their part.My group, as I had wanted from the beginning, had taken first place.We gathered near the finish line, sharing smiles amidst our gasps for breath. The effort had been worth it, and although we still had more tests ahead, we knew that the toughest part of this race was already behind us."Good job," I said, looking at everyone. My words were met with nods, and although no one said much, I could see the pride reflected in their eyes.The sun was already high in the sky, its heat beginning to be felt more intensely. As we took a few minutes to catch our breath and cool off, I couldn't help but think about what was to come. This had only been a physical test, but I knew that in the remaining days, we would face even tougher challenges. However, for now, we had won a small victory. And that was enough.