Chapter 49: The Final Challenge
The seventh day had arrived, and as always, some challenging tests awaited us. We were in the meditation area, practicing Zazen, when I remembered the activities we would face. This time, in addition to meditation, we had to prepare a speech on the main topics presented to us at the beginning of the exam. It was a task that might seem simple, but the pressure of speaking in front of others always adds a touch of nervousness.
The next activity would be a written exam, followed by an intense 18-kilometer relay race. In this race, each of the 15 members of our group would have to run a minimum of 1.2 kilometers. I thought it was not a difficult task, considering that everyone in my group had the capacity to run that distance at their maximum speed. Our goal was clear: to secure first place.
As we were in the middle of the Zazen session, I observed my teammates. It was evident that they had improved considerably; their postures were cleaner, and they maintained concentration more easily compared to the first days. That progress not only reflected their dedication but also created an atmosphere of motivation and shared effort.
After meditation, we quickly moved on to the next task: the speech. This activity, far from being complicated, was completed in the blink of an eye. Each of us presented our ideas and reflections with confidence, supporting each other in this process. The camaraderie was palpable, and we were all excited about what was to come.
Then came the moment of the written exam, one of our group's strong points. Each member had impressive academic performance, which made this task relatively easy. With pencils in hand, we immersed ourselves in the questions, and soon the sounds of pages turning and pencil scribbles filled the air.
Once these tasks were completed, we were informed to leave the facilities. A line of vans awaited us to take us to the circuit where the relay race would take place. Anticipation grew among us; the air felt electrifying with the excitement of competition.
As we settled into the vans, we began to organize ourselves for the race. We knew that to win, we needed a good start and a powerful finish. We decided that Shibata would be the first to run. His initial speed and strength were crucial to set the tone for the race. I would be the last to run, as it was said I was the fastest among everyone present. Hirata would take the baton before me, and in the end, I would have to gain as much advantage as possible.
The sound of the van's engine resonated as we headed to the circuit, filling us with a mix of nerves and excitement. Each of us visualized the moment we would cross the finish line, feeling the support of our teammates. We knew this race was not just a test of speed but an opportunity to demonstrate our dedication and teamwork.
...
The race had begun, and the atmosphere filled with cheers and applause as students from the different groups, including mine, began to run. Some ran at a brisk pace, others slower; each adjusted their rhythm according to strategy and the number of members in their group. However, Shibata, who was responsible for starting our race, shot out with all his energy. His speed was impressive, and he quickly left the others behind, establishing an initial lead over the other classes.
As the race progressed, I watched our group maintain the lead. However, we soon realized that some students from other groups, especially the upperclassmen, were beginning to catch up. It was a reminder that, although we were in a good position, we couldn't afford to lose focus. Even so, our group managed to hold a slight advantage, which gave us confidence.
The baton passed from student to student in a fluid choreography of relays, and the tension grew as my turn approached. Finally, the decisive moment arrived. Hirata was running toward me, his face lit up with a determined smile. Before he handed me the baton, I took a moment to properly warm up my body, ensuring that every muscle was ready for the effort I was about to exert.
Hirata reached me in a flash, his feet pounding the ground with force. I saw him approaching, and the sight of his swift run filled me with motivation. As he handed me the baton, his expression said we had a solid lead: there was no one behind him. In that moment, I knew I couldn't let my group down.
With the baton in hand, my legs moved as if they had a life of their own. I began to sprint at full speed, the wind slicing against my face as I accelerated. Every stride brought me closer to the finish line, and the roar of the crowd echoed in my ears like a sound that fueled my determination. I felt adrenaline coursing through my veins, each heartbeat a reminder that I was in the midst of a competition.
The first 300 meters passed like a whisper. The track stretched out before me, empty and open, like a direct path to triumph. My feet struck the ground firmly, each step resonating with the promise of speed. I looked ahead, focusing on the horizon, where the finish line became my only thought.
As I reached the 600 meters, my legs seemed to move with an almost magical fluidity. Energy filled me, and my body responded like a well-oiled machine. There was nothing that could stop me; the sound of the crowd was a distant echo that only fueled my momentum. The other runners began to appear alongside me, but I didn't let myself get distracted. I knew my ability, and every stride brought me closer to my goal.
As I crossed the kilometer mark, the rhythm of my run remained intact. My muscles worked in perfect harmony, propelling me forward. The track felt familiar under my feet; I knew this part of the course was crucial. I accelerated even more, enjoying the sensation of speed, the wind whistling around me.
I entered the final stretch with an explosion of energy. Each stride was a burst of power, my feet barely touching the ground as I headed toward the finish line. The distance shrank rapidly, and the excitement of the moment enveloped me. My breath remained steady, and adrenaline coursed through my veins like an electric current.
The last 100 meters were a whirlwind of speed. With each step, the finish line drew closer and closer. I saw the glow of the target at the end of the track, and I couldn't afford to look back. I ran faster, harder, feeling every fiber of my being align with the desire to cross that line first.
Finally, I crossed the finish line in a burst of pure speed. The baton slipped from my hand to the next runner, and the euphoria of having given my all flooded over me. I had run the 1.2 kilometers with unwavering determination, and with that, victory was ours.
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