432 Hassel’s Race

The empty road was very quiet. It was not the main traffic artery, so very few vehicles would pass there. What's more, it was the weekend, many people would stay at home instead of driving around.

A middle-age man in glasses was standing on the lawn of his house with a baseball glove in one hand and a baseball in the other.

"Get ready!" The middle-aged man cocked his arm back and then threw the baseball.

Opposite the middle-aged man was a little boy eight or nine years old, also wearing a baseball glove. When the boy saw the baseball coming to him, he held out his hands and caught it.

At that moment, someone ran along the road, and gradually, more and more began to appear along the road. They all wore numbers on their backs, and it was easy to see that they were athletes running a race.

The little boy stopped and looked at the athletes.

"Daddy, are they competing?" asked the little boy.

"It is supposed to be a marathon," the middle-aged man with glasses stopped and said. "It's not too cold or too hot right now. It's really a good time to run a marathon."

"Wow, it's a marathon, there must be sports stars running!" The little boy looked expectantly at the crowd, hoping to see a sports star.

"No point looking for someone famous. That's just a marathon for marathon lovers. They are all amateur runners!" the middle-aged man said with a smile.

"How do you know there aren't any sports stars in it when you are not participating?" the little boy asked indignantly.

"Look at that man." The middle-aged man pointed to a fat man amongst the runners and then said, "If it was a professional marathon, how could there be a fat runner on the team? So, it must be a race organized by marathon lovers. Everyone is at the same level, so it's taking part that really counts. Therefore, it is less likely that professional athletes and sports stars are participating."

Following the direction of his father's finger, the little boy looked at the fat man, whose figure made him very conspicuous despite being in the center of the crowd. In addition, the number on his back suggested he was a real runner.

"He looks fat, and it seems like he won't be able to finish the race," said the little boy, somewhat discouraged.

"You are right. That's why your mother and I tell you to eat more vegetables and less food with a lot of calories, such as French fries. Otherwise, you will become a fatty and be unable to complete a marathon."

The little boy nodded helplessly. It was obvious that he didn't want to give up these delicious high-calorie foods, but he didn't want to be clumsy fatty either.

The fat Hassel didn't know he had become the object lesson that a middle-aged man used to educate his son.

But at that moment, Hassel was covered with sweat and his clothes were soaked. He couldn't even tell what direction he was running, and it was all he could do to run after the man in front of him.

Hassel didn't know how long he had been running, but he remembered that at first there were many people, but gradually the crowd drew into a long line. Occasionally, two or three runners would run together. There were fewer and fewer runners around him, as some surpassed him and others fell behind.

Hassel didn't know whether he ran fast or slow. Colorful clothes dazzled him, which also gave him a sense of security. At least he knew that he still had many companions and was not alone.

Hassel didn't know how far he was from the finish line, but he was running mechanically just like an indefatigable robot on an assembly line. As he forced his body to run at a constant speed, his limbs were paralyzed and he had forgotten the fatigue in his body. What's more, he thought nothing in his mind, but simply focused on taking step after step.

When Hassel passed a depot, a volunteer handed a bottle of water to him, but he didn't stop. He continued to run along, opening the bottle and pouring the water into his mouth.

Drinking the bottle of water made him feel much refreshed, and the intake of water stimulated his body's circulation, making him sweat more.

At this point, Hassel looked very dispirited, and he ran clumsily. It gave everyone the feeling that he might give up the race in the next few seconds, and stop to have a rest on the roadside.

At the roadside, there were indeed some contestants who chose to sit down and have a rest. Whenever Hassel passed by, they would look at him with a strange eye, maybe admiration, maybe sympathy, or maybe bewilderment. Perhaps they didn't understand how a fatty like Hassel could stick it out until now.

"I can't stop, I can't stop, Coach Li told me that I have to keep running. Even if I run slower than a walk, I can never stop and rest. Once I sit down and rest, it would be hard for me to stand up again." Hassel recalled Dai Li's advice.

There were fewer and fewer contestants around Hassel. Some were faster than he was, so he was gradually left behind, and others were physically exhausted, so they slowed down and were left behind by Hassel. This race was the same as a marathon, where crowds of contestants set off together, and then they gradually dispersed, so the tight formation would become more and more loose.

Hassel was still running at his own pace, and he ignored those who moved beyond him and those he left behind. That's what he had been practicing these days—running at his own pace, namely, running at a constant speed.

From morning to noon, the sun was getting higher and higher, and the temperature began to rise. Hassel felt much hotter, and he sweated more.

The sun rose right above his head, which meant the heat of the day was coming. At this time, Hassel came to realize that he had been running all morning. But he didn't feel tired. His body had completely fallen into the rhythm of running.

But Hassel was thirsty, and as the sun shone on him, he felt like he was burning, which accelerated the evaporation of water from his body.

"Hold on, I have to hold on. I should be near the depot, where I can be supplied with water." Hassel licked his lips.

Sweat came from Hassel's forehead, rolled down his cheeks, rested on his chin, accumulating into large beads of sweat and eventually falling to the ground. Wherever Hassel passed by, there would be sweat stain on the ground, while in front of him, there was the sweat stain of others.

At this moment, time seemed static, and Hassel no longer felt it passing. He looked ahead uncertainly as he ran mechanically, swinging his arms and repeating the same movement.

At last, there was a large crowd in front of him, and something like a billboard.

There is a depot ahead! Hassel could not remember how many depots he had passed. Previously, he would catch the water provided by others and drink it while continuing to run.

This time, Hassel ran over as he had done several times before and he saw the staff and volunteers in green overalls.

This time, instead of handing him a bottle of water, however, the staff gave him a piece of paper.

"Go over there and register!" said the staff.

"What this?" asked Hassel, but his words disturbed his breathing rhythm and he felt exhausted immediately.

"It's your certificate of completion for the 58-kilometer race!" the staff said and then continued to hand the papers to the contestants behind Hassel.

"Certificate? Am I finished?" Hassel looked at the paper in his hand. It was indeed a certificate of completion for the 58-kilometer race, with a number just written on it.

I made it! I finished a 58-kilometer race! Hassel thought, and then took off his coat, which was completely soaked with sweat.

This 24-hour Frogman Challenge was not as difficult as I thought it would be!

The blonde Cruise lay on a beach, and in front of him was a wall about 2.5 meters high.

This wall was one of the 25 obstacles. The participants had to climb up the wall, get over it, and then stand on the ground on the other side.

Usually, it would be quite easy for Cruise to finish it. He was more than 1.8 meters tall, and he was a master of sports. He could climb up the 2.5 meters high wall just by jumping from a standing position, without even a run-up.

This time, however, Cruise couldn't climb over the wall. He had tried many times, but his strength couldn't support him to climb over the wall. Even though his hands could reach the top, he had no strength to shore up his body.

The 58-kilometer long-distance run and the 8-kilometer swim had completely drained Cruise of his physical strength. As a result, the 25 obstacles, which had originally been the easiest task for him, had now become an insurmountable challenge.

I didn't expect the 24-hour Frogman Challenge to be so difficult. I signed up for a special physical training course, but I'm still having difficulty passing the challenge. Breathing heavily, Cruise decided to take a rest, save up his physical strength, and then climb over the wall in front of him.

The 58-kilometer run and the 8-kilometer swim have consumed too much of my energy, especially the 8-kilometer swim… Cruise could not help but recall the swim.

Cruise had spent more than three hours to finish the 8-kilometer swim, which consumed no less energy than the 58-kilometer long-distance run.

Swimming consumes more physical strength than long-distance running, let alone swimming in outdoor public waters. Even good swimmers would feel tired after swimming for more than three hours in a row. In addition, three hours of swimming after a 58-kilometer run was enough to make anyone exhausted.

Cruise was dog-tired. But in fact, his performance was pretty good, because few participants could make it to the 25 obstacles. Most of them gave up during the first two events.

Lay down for a while, and my energy will recover. By then I will be able to climb over the wall! This idea kept coming up in Cruise's mind, but he was in a daze and his consciousness was clouding.

I'm so sleepy, I want to sleep for a while. Cruise took another look at the nearby wall.

A fat but fuzzy figure appeared near the wall. He ran, jumped, and used his hands to seize the wall as his feet scrambled up it. Suddenly, he used his arms to support his body and climbed up the wall with the inertia of his run and jump.

In reality, he put his own body on the wall and hung himself in the air with his stomach as a support point. But from Cruise's perspective, he could only see the fatty stamping his legs to keep his body balanced, then the kid fell over to the other side of the wall.

What an ugly gesture. It reminded me of Hassel, how is he here now? He should have been eliminated. Cruise gave a deep sigh, and he slowly closed his eyes. Ten seconds later, he was snoring.

At that moment, a staff went past Cruise and squatted and had a look at him, only to find that Cruise had fallen asleep. The staff, therefore, covered Cruise with a blanket, and then muttered, "There's one more participant who gave up the race."

The staff clearly knew that anyone who fell asleep at this point would not be able to wake up soon, let alone return to the race.

Hassel got up from the ground, and as he had just fallen off the wall, he was a bit dizzy. What's more, the ground was covered with soft sand, and Hassel's mouth was full of sand.

Hassel spit out the sand, then raised his head and looked forward tenaciously.

He was going to confront the next obstacle.