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

I wasn’t reliving the excitement of the race—though it was indeed thrilling—but pondering a question: why did this relay give me a deeper understanding of “teamwork” than any corporate training I’d ever 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 quits, the entire team’s results don’t count.

Not a deduction. Not a discount. Complete zeroing out.

You could swim like a flying fish, cycle like a Tour de France rider. But if your running partner cramps up and quits in the final five kilometers—all your efforts amount to nothing.

Visceral Education in Shared Destiny

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

During the race, you experience a strange psychological state. While swimming, you think not just about your own speed, but about your teammate—will he hold up during cycling? While cycling, two things constantly occupy your mind: don’t be too slow and drag down the running teammate, but don’t push too hard and injure yourself, causing the entire team to withdraw.

This feeling of “carrying others in your heart” cannot be taught through lectures. It needs a real, consequential situation to develop.

Moreover, there’s an atmosphere at the race site that no team-building activity can replicate. When a group of people with a common goal gather together, they naturally generate mutual encouragement. The moment you see your teammate charging toward you to hand over the relay band in the transition zone, you know—he’s given you his everything, 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’s already given his all, and you have no right not to give yours.

This is group education. Not the textbook definition, but living, breathing experience.

The Age of Lone Birds Has Ended

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

These people usually share common characteristics: 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’ rhythms. They think meetings are a waste of time. They can’t accept having their proposals modified by the team. They believe they’re superior to colleagues, so they don’t need to listen to others’ opinions.

To be honest, I had this mindset when I was younger. As a graduate of Taiwan’s top universities, I once believed that academic credentials proved ability, and those with good credentials should naturally make decisions.

Only after starting a business did I realize 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 can’t 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 can’t lead them with “I’m better than you”; you must unite them with “let’s make this happen together.”

The era when holding a diploma alone could dominate others has truly ended. I discussed this issue in “The Arrogance of Elites, The Future of Youth”—meritocracy makes winners think everything depends on themselves, but in the real world, no one can accomplish anything meaningful alone.

Underestimated Physical Education

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

Because the best venue for group education—physical education—is severely undervalued in Taiwan’s educational system.

What role does PE play in most schools? “Let kids run around and sweat,” “recreational relief,” “can be borrowed for self-study before exams.” Physical education is treated as a supporting actor to academic subjects, even as 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’ rhythms—you can’t just play your own game; you must watch 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. Games involve losing—and learning to lose, learning to face defeat together with teammates, is an extremely important ability.

When leading teams, I’ve found that people with varsity sports experience generally have better collaborative abilities. Not because sports made them smarter, but because they’ve undergone countless training sessions on the field requiring “cooperation with others.” Those experiences are etched in their bodies, activating without conscious thought.

Real Core Training

In an era where you must “create your own work,” diploma value is rapidly depreciating. What are the core abilities that replace them?

The ability to discover and solve problems. The ability to utilize resources and collaborate with people from different specialties. The ability to clearly express your ideas. And something hard to articulate but most useful in practice—reading interpersonal dynamics in interactions, knowing when to advance and when to retreat.

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

You cannot develop collaborative ability by yourself. Just like you cannot learn to swim by watching instructional videos. You must jump into the water, get choked by it, and learn to coexist with your fears in the water.

In “Emotions Are Not Personal Matters,” I discussed how EQ can only develop through group interactions. Collaborative ability is the same. It’s not “knowledge” but “visceral understanding.” And visceral understanding can only be trained in real situations.

The triathlon relay is exactly such a situation.

See You at the Finish Line

Finally, let me share some hard-earned insights from participating in triathlon.

Don’t let adrenaline hijack you—everyone gets excited at the start, making it easy to sprint out. But triathlon is an endurance race, not a sprint. Finishing at your own pace is far more important than charging out stylishly and then crashing later.

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

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

Also—when you see photographers from afar, remember to compose your nearly-dying expression. You’ll be grateful for that at least presentable photo afterward.

The educational significance of 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.