CHAPTER 9
Dominating the 10K
Alright, let’s set the record straight—Cliff didn’t exactly set out to dominate a 10K. In fact, he had every intention of sticking with the familiar 5K. Lavishland looked like the perfect backdrop for his next run—picturesque views, a lively atmosphere, and just the right distance to keep things manageable. He envisioned himself breezing through the 5K finish line, a new medal around his neck, and a smile on his face as he soaked in the applause.
But fate, as it often does, had other plans. Not long after registering, Cliff received an email that felt like a punch to the gut: the 5K had been scrapped. The only race available now was the 10K. Cliff’s first thought was pure panic. Ten kilometers? That was double the distance! The idea of running twice as far as he’d trained for made him break out in a cold sweat. He immediately fired off an email, apologizing profusely and explaining that he had no business attempting a 10K with just a month to prepare.
The response he got was less than sympathetic. “If you can do a 5K, you can do a 10K,” the coach wrote back. “One month of training is more than enough. Trust me, you’ll enjoy it.” Enjoy it? Cliff wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t even convinced he could survive it. But there was no way he could back out now. He couldn’t bear the thought of looking like a coward, especially not in front of someone who believed in him—however misguided that belief might be.
Determined to impress the coach and prove himself wrong, Cliff began a training regimen. It wasn’t anything fancy—just a steady increase in distance and speed each week. Each run was a battle against his own doubts and the nagging voice in his head that whispered, "You’re going to regret this." But with each step, he pushed back, reminding himself that he was no quitter.
When race day finally arrived, Cliff found himself in Lavishland, surrounded by runners who all seemed a little too excited about the prospect of punishing their bodies for 10 kilometers. Cliff tried to blend in, but his nervous energy was hard to hide. Still, as the starting gun went off, he focused on the basics: one foot in front of the other, breathe in, breathe out. To his surprise, he didn’t collapse at kilometer six, or even seven. He kept going, driven by sheer determination and a stubborn refusal to give up.
Crossing the finish line, Cliff realized something important—his time might not have been record-breaking, but that wasn’t what mattered. He had done it. He had conquered a distance that had once seemed impossible, and he didn’t need a stretcher to do it. That was a victory worth celebrating.
Energized by his achievement, Cliff immediately signed up for another race, this time in Prosperland. This wasn’t just any run—it was a charity event with a twist: there was no fixed finish line. Instead, a car would slowly chase the runners, and when it caught up to them, their race was over. It was part fun, part terror—like playing a game of tag with a relentless metal predator. Cliff’s goal? To not embarrass himself by letting the car catch him too soon.
He managed to outrun the car for 14 kilometers, setting a new personal record. But even more satisfying than the distance was the thrill of the chase. Cliff had discovered a new side of himself—one that relished challenges and thrived under pressure. But this newfound confidence didn’t stop there.
After the race, Cliff decided to tackle something different: the mountains around Prosperland. With a local guide leading the way, what started as a leisurely hike quickly turned into an uphill scramble. The guide, seemingly part mountain goat, charged ahead without so much as a backward glance, leaving Cliff to huff and puff his way up the steep incline. By the time they reached the summit, Cliff was breathless and drenched in sweat. The guide turned to him with a grin, “You’re not afraid of heights, are you?”
Cliff didn’t even have the energy to be afraid. He was too busy trying to catch his breath. But as he stood there, taking in the view from the top, a sense of calm washed over him. The world below seemed distant, almost unreal. Up here, away from the chaos of life, Cliff found a peace he hadn’t known he needed. The city, the noise, the constant demands—it all felt so far away, as if it belonged to someone else’s life.
On that mountain summit, Cliff realized that he wasn’t just running for fitness or for fun. He was running toward something greater—something that brought him closer to understanding himself. And for the first time, he felt truly at peace.
This experience would change Cliff forever—or at least until he found his next big challenge. Little did he know, that challenge was about to find him in the most unexpected way—a way that would lead him straight into the heart of a tribe he never knew existed…
