Cote: Elite in Action

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.