During my visit to Earth as a diplomat, the French government invited me to their annual sporting event near Col de I’Iseran, at 2764 meters. Initially, I thought they wanted me to see a ski event. However, as I rode up the mountain on winding roads in the diplomatic car, I saw spectators lining the road dressed in rainbow colors. They had even written encouraging messages and names on the road, presumably for the athletes participating in the event.

The fact that it was in the middle of summer indicated that this was not their annual ski event.

Upon reaching the top, I alighted from the diplomatic car and, after adjusting my feathers, I saw the finish line with the 2764-meter marker in the middle of the gate, and several flags fluttering in the wind. The area was cordoned off, so the diplomatic car had to park on the outskirts of the road. A human representative came forward to greet me, extending his hand in welcome.

”Bonjour, madam Khurrearr, welcome to Col de I’Iseran.“ they said in my native tongue with a French accent.

”How was the ride up?”

I extended my wing to meet the representative while jabbing.

”I had worse when I entered orbit to your planet”

The road was extremely windy. So much so that I nearly barfed as the car climbed up.

“Unfortunately, madam Khurrearr, the roads here are bad due to it following the terrain. Much cheaper and easier to maintain. But I gather you are not here to complain about the Alp’s road network. I know a place where we can talk somewhat privately, and watch the event as it happens”

I nodded and followed the representative to a nearby hill overlooking the windy road I had recently been on. The surprising thing is that the entire road and hillside were filled with spectators, as they expected to see something coming up on the road.

“Care to explain this sports event?” I looked curiously at my counterpart.

”All in good time. My government wanted to ask if your people have endurance sports events in your culture. As in the one that has the best time or is the last one standing on your feet kind of events.“

I huffed at the non-answer. Looks like I had to wait for a while to get the answer to my question.

”Certainly. We Aarobokses used to migrate from the northern and southern hemispheres of our world to the Equator for mating and feeding. As we settled, we started using our ancestors’ routes as two yearly endurance races. Who could fly these routes the fastest? Since we flew as a flock, it was the flock of ten to focus on this task.

We could do 400 of your kilometers in your 8-hour working day on average. In good wind, we could do more.”

The representative smiled at that.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

”We humans have similar races. "This competition is one of the most challenging, showcasing the incredible potential of human achievement." Now, I imagine you don't constantly flap your wings to get from point A to B the fastest, correct??”

I replied, “Yes you are correct. Gliding, then adjusting the height as we go is the primary method for us. And it’s in our endurance competition as well. We also use updrafts to get higher up without having to flap our wings to reach where we need to go”

”Well, imagine if you had to flap your wings at a constant speed and climb 500 to 2000 meters without an updraft to reach your goal.“

I gaped at that.

“I would imagine a dead flock of Aarobokses.“

The representative nodded on that front.

“Well, this sporting event is as I explained, but it’s not just one day. It’s 21 days of grueling hard labor.”

I gaped at that.

”Surely you are jesting“

The representative shook his head.

I looked around, seeing the rainbow-filled road.

“What kind of sporting event is this?” I asked.

”You have heard of a marathon?” the representative shot back.

“The event where you humans run 50 kilometers?” I replied with annoyance.

"This is cycling. We use our leg muscles as the main power source for a vehicle for nearly as long as humans, from start to finish. We call this event the Tour de France, or the French tournament. The event is held in 21 stages or 21 days. It varies in distance and elevation. Where we are now is the endpoint of stage 17, also known as the "hell stage" by the cyclists.

The contestants have already cycled about 3500 kilometers. This is the last stage where they encounter this challenging climb. Today, the contestants have to cycle 250 kilometers to reach where we are now.

The person who reaches the gate" pointing at the rather obvious gate with the goal written in bold letters across it" first will usually win this tournament.

The representative kneels forward.

”You mention that you use your ancestor's routes for your sporting events correct, madam Khurrearr.”

I nodded in silence as the representative continued.

”Would it surprise you that this event began as a scheme to sell written stories?”

I was amazed by that. It was beyond my imagination. There was no necessity for such a sporting event. No historic migration and trade routes were involved. There wasn't a specific need for it. There was nothing except the intention to sell written stories.

“Ah. Here they come.“

I glanced down and saw only five people riding thin vehicles. They were all dressed in skin-thin clothes with different colors. One person wore a red outfit with white dots, and another had a bright yellow outfit with a yellow bike. The person in yellow was in the middle of the group. As they slowly made their way uphill toward the finish line, the crowd split apart.

As the dotted person increased their speed, it became apparent that they were separating from the other four individuals. The group seemed unable to keep up and started to separate. Eventually, into individual cycles, each making their way up the mountain path.

When the runner crossed the finish line, he stood up from his equipment and shouted, showing no sign of fatigue. The person in yellow was the last of the five to finish, and they showed extreme signs of exhaustion. It seemed like the person was crying as they took deep breaths to regain control over their exhaustion.

Several more people soon came to cycle the mountain path. They resembled a snake slithering through rainbow-colored sand. Exhausted but happy, they reached the mountaintop, when Khurrearr noticed something unusual.

A lone figure climbed up the mountain, appearing exhausted and on the verge of collapsing, but they persevered. The crowd of spectators cheered for the figure as they ascended, and the figure climbed with great determination. At the finish line, other people dressed similarly to the figure cheered them on as they reached the goal. The enthusiastic cheering for this person exceeded even that of the previous cycles.

The human collapsed in total exhaustion, looking at the sky in bliss. I looked at the representative. They also cheered.

”Can I meet this human?” I asked, indicating to the human that had received so much cheer.

”I will see what we can do.” They nodded and began to take some calls.