After the Meihua Lake triathlon relay ended, I lay on the grass, my entire body aching, but my mind unusually clear.

I wasn’t reminiscing about the thrill of the race—though it was indeed thrilling. I was pondering a question: why did this relay give me a deeper understanding of “team” than any corporate training I’d previously attended?

The answer lies in the rules. The triathlon relay rules are simple and brutal: Three people, responsible for swimming, cycling, and running respectively. If any one person withdraws, the entire team’s results don’t count.

Not a deduction. Not a discount. Direct nullification.

You could swim like a flying fish, cycle like a Tour de France rider. But if your running partner cramps up and withdraws in the final five kilometers—all your efforts are as if they never happened.

Embodied Education of Shared Destiny

Why are these rules so educationally meaningful? Because they create a physical understanding you could never learn in a classroom: Your success or failure doesn’t depend entirely on yourself.

During the race, you experience a peculiar psychological state. When you’re swimming, you’re thinking not just about your own speed, but about your teammates—will he hold up during the cycling leg? When you’re cycling, two things constantly occupy your mind: don’t be too slow and drag down the runner, but don’t go too hard and get injured, causing the entire team to withdraw.

This feeling of “carrying others in your heart” cannot be taught through lectures. It requires a real situation with real consequences to develop.

And there’s an atmosphere at the race site that no team-building activity can replicate. When a group of people with a common goal gathers together, they naturally generate a force of mutual encouragement. The moment you see your teammate charging toward you in the transition zone to hand over the relay band—you know he has given you his all, and now it’s your turn.

In that instant, you don’t want to let him down. Not because someone is watching, not because there’s prize money. Simply because—he has already given his utmost, and you have no right not to do the same.

This is group education. Not textbook definitions, but living, breathing understanding.

The Age of Lone Birds Has Ended

I’ve encountered too many “lone birds” in the workplace.

These people usually share common traits: excellent academic credentials, strong individual abilities, impeccable professional knowledge. But put them in a team, and problems emerge. They’re not used to matching others’ pace. They think meetings are a waste of time. They cannot accept their proposals being modified by the team. They believe they’re stronger than their colleagues, so they don’t need to listen to others’ opinions.

Frankly, I had this mindset when I was young. As a graduate from Taiwan’s top universities, I once thought academic credentials were proof of ability, and people with good degrees should naturally make decisions.

Later, when I started my business, I discovered how naive this thinking was.

The first lesson entrepreneurship taught me wasn’t “how to build products” or “how to raise funding”—it was you cannot accomplish anything alone. You need people who understand technology, markets, finance, and law. And these people aren’t your subordinates; they’re your partners. You cannot lead them with “I’m better than you”; you must unite them with “let’s make this happen together.”

That era when holding a diploma alone could make you look down on everyone else has truly ended. I discussed this issue in “Elite Arrogance, Youth’s Way Out”—meritocracy makes winners think everything depends on themselves, but in the real world, no one can accomplish anything meaningful alone.

Underestimated Sports Education

If group education is so important, why does Taiwan’s education system hardly teach it?

Because the best arena for group education—sports—is severely underestimated in Taiwan’s educational system.

What position does PE class hold in most schools? “Let kids run around and sweat” “Mental relaxation” “Can be borrowed for study sessions before exams.” Sports is treated as a supporting role to academics, or even an obstacle—too much PE takes away study time.

But think carefully about how much group education nutrition is hidden in sports.

Team sports require you to match others’ pace—you can’t just play your own game; you must watch your teammates’ positions. Relay races require you to trust teammates—you can’t control how fast they run, but you must believe they’ll give their all. Competitions involve losing—and learning to lose, learning to face defeat together with teammates, is an extremely important ability.

When leading teams, I’ve noticed that people with varsity sports experience generally have better team collaboration skills. Not because sports made them smarter, but because they’ve already undergone countless training sessions of “having to coordinate with others” on the field. Those experiences are carved into their bodies, activating without thought.

True Core Training

In an era where one must “create their own work,” the value of diplomas is rapidly depreciating. What are the core abilities replacing them?

The ability to identify and solve problems. The ability to utilize resources and collaborate with people from different professions. The ability to clearly express one’s ideas. The ability to read interpersonal nuances and know when to advance and when to retreat in human interactions.

These abilities share one common trait: they can all only be learned in environments with other people.

You cannot develop collaboration skills alone. Just as you cannot learn to swim by watching swimming tutorials. You must jump into the water, get choked by it, and learn to coexist with your fear while in the water.

I discussed in “Emotions Are Not Personal Matters” that EQ can only develop through group interactions. Collaboration skills are the same. They’re not “knowledge” but “physical understanding.” And physical understanding can only be trained in real situations.

The triathlon relay is exactly such a situation.

See You at the Finish Line

Let me share some hard-earned insights from participating in triathlon.

Don’t let adrenaline hijack you—everyone gets excited at the start and tends to charge out. But triathlon is an endurance race, not a sprint. Finishing at your own pace is far more important than charging out impressively only to crash later.

Hydration is always more important than you think. Bring enough water; don’t count on aid stations.

Swimming, then cycling, then running—your muscles will hate you in the final leg. Muscle relief spray is a lifesaver.

And—when you spot photographers from afar, remember to fix that near-death expression. You’ll thank yourself later for at least one decent photo.

The educational significance carried by exercising together far exceeds promoting metabolism. It’s the most real battlefield for group education. And group education is the most scarce and underestimated education of our time.