Member-only story
How to Lose a Victory
A long mountain run taught me something about will
The gun fires, and I start slowly, one small step after another. It is a mountain race through the Ifugao Rice Terraces in the Phillippines. I’m not expecting to finish among the Top 3 runners — or to win a “podium” as they call it — but I want to finish with a decent pace.
If I feel really good, I think, maybe I can even try to finish within the Top 10 runners!
So off I go, maintaining my pace as fellow runners glide through the rice terraces on a crisp, windy morning.
We start at the summit, descending the cement path that coils through the mountain like a snake. Within an hour we leave cement roads, enter the trail, and then climb the side of a tall mountain. We rise, descend, then rise further again. It is one painful uphill after another. The mountain is so steep that I can feel my Achilles tendons threatening to rip from the pressure. Sweat starts dripping really fast down my face, my chest, and all over my body.
But I reach the summit, eventually. And I watch the sunrise over the horizon, across the mountain ranges, among the tall, dancing trees. It almost feels like the morning greeting me and rewarding me for making it to the top.
