Running Into the Heart: 6.99’s Longji 100 Journey
广州本地居民6.99，以细腻而坚韧的笔触记录了她首次挑战“龙脊100”越野赛的全过程，呈现出女性在运动与生活中“看见自我、成就自我”的思考。
跑进心里
好友说二十几年前我们就来过龙脊梯田，那时的我就走的特别快，第一个爬上了山顶。奈何，这段记忆在脑海里已几近消失，关注当下，才是急迫的。
参加“龙脊100”越野跑原是好友无意提及的这段过往触动了某条神经，踏出了俺人生首野的第一步。清晨从广州出发折腾了大半天，站在了广西瑶族金抗大寨的门口。物料领取处大门边有一块超大型KT板，将100公里，75公里，50公里，30公里，20公里，10公里的参赛人员名称分列印了上去。我参加的是30公里组别，好不容易在板上翻寻到自己的名字，抿笑虚荣了片刻。100公里名单，寥寥几行，都是大神啊，请受小女子一拜！
抱着物料包，坨着大背囊，挪腾着往大寨深处走去。此时，已临近下午3点了，阳光灿烂无比，照映得梯田上下金光闪烁。身边来来往往多是一群群，皮肤黝黑，肌肉鼓胀，精神抖擞的小哥哥小姐姐，我这个单身前往的小个子大阿姨（年纪大）还真不多见。活动现场大舞台上鼓声震天响，MC在大喇叭里一直提示着今天比赛不同公里数选手到达情况（100公里，75公里，50公里当天比赛，剩下的组别第二天比赛）。原来越野跑终点是如此沸腾火热。
清晨四点半，醒了，真的睡过吗？窗帘外只见远处缀在梯田上下隐隐光点，余下就是唯一的黑。带上耳机，播了“第一天”，让头脑兴奋起来，唤醒沉重的身体，终于可以比赛了。
七点整，首发枪响，混杂在人群里奔赴山林。“今天你就是自己的王，给我干”默念（想大喊，但怕被打，所以换成心想，是不是很有大广州人素质）。头3公里水泥硬道，全是上升路段，在白云山跑的同款，驾轻就熟，用了比平时更慢的速度就轻松超越了众多对手，跟着几名男跑手往前去，隐约听到后方有女跑手说：“怎么她跑的这么快”，然后有人回答道：“才刚开跑（一语中的，此处应有苦笑）”。水泥路的尽头转进田耕道，泥土硬实稍窄的小道，路旁就是齐腰高黄灿灿的稻穗。此时的我被体内洪荒之力围裹着，无心观赏，正忘乎所以的向前奔跑。几公里后，跟不上领头小团队，但已领先大部队有一段距离了。抬头看见几十米外就到达第一个补给点（7.8公里，爬升713米，下降397米），突然左小腿胫骨外侧肌肉猛烈跳动，左脚掌被乱跳的小腿肌肉拉扯的整个往左外侧延伸，疼的钻心，肢体动作已完全不受控，抽筋来的如此迅猛。我像只跛脚的鸭子一瘸一拐的撑到了补给点。随即，右小腿同样位置也参与进霸跑行列。当下能做的只剩瘫倒在地面，听天由命吧。医护人员迅速过来帮忙拉筋，放松，喷药，小腿疼；看着补给完毕的跑手接二连三的往山上跑，心更疼。疼痛稍稍缓解，我把越野背心扣扯开，脱下了完全被汗浸透的跑步衫，剩下一件运动内衣，起来，给我干。
第二段路程是本赛事最艰难的（10，4km，爬升858米，下降914米）。持续的爬升下降，路况从农耕道，山路逐渐过渡为隐蔽在山凹中烂泥泞不规则石块变化万千树根为主的后现代大自然杰作，蜿蜒着进入大山深处。这时已经完全跑出了我的舒适区，路况的艰险是始料不及的。爬升还算容易，多难走的路，一步一步手脚并用也就上去了。下降才是最考验功力的时候。上肢核心控能力，平衡力，下肢蹬踩，加速减速力，配合精神高度集中，才能在石头方阵里往下冲。我下降速度是1----1----1（代表频率），高手是0.5/0.5/0.5。我走一步，人家都走4，5步了。走的慢还堵着人家路，赶快了怕自己都被地心引力甩出去。你说，你说，换你压力大不？比赛时间分秒流逝，越野背心左右两边的水袋就剩一口水了，能量胶盐丸吃了两次。脑海里剩下冰冷可乐来一杯的画面，要熬到补给点。
踏上第三段路程（7.7KM，爬升633米，下降283米）。水袋再次装满，还提溜着小水壶在手里随时喝，在补给站灌了大半碗不冷的可乐稍解念想，心里踏实了。问身边跑友，才知道这时已经10点半有多，18公里足足跑了3个半小时。前方又再次爬升，稍微快点走，想着老娘就这速度了，谁爱跑谁跑。哈哈哈哈哈，是不是和起跑时已判若两人。以为跑完了难度最高的第二程，来到这会轻松点。判断一直失误的我，又再次被现实狠狠鞭打。山路并没有平坦，依然保持一贯作风，段段有“惊喜”，走完也不敢回头望。两条小腿平时训练量不足，导致路程中时不时就抽筋罢工，太拉胯；左下肢力量不够唯有添加左上身肌肉代偿，腰部久患的疼痛越加厉害；身体耗能已接近顶峰，再往后每一步都是每况愈下，所有的弱项在这时刻被无限放大。虽然老娘是慢，但也不能慢得如此过分！几位之前落后于我的女选手都把我超了，是沮丧的，想到在半马比赛最后几公里意志没挺住无法达成100分钟的KPI，这次首野结局会重滔覆辙吗？来吧，孩子，忘掉周遭的一切，清空思绪，专注前进。
山林间大树竹海把天空遮蔽的严严实实（5，4KM，爬升123米，下降733米），走出空旷地才发现雨水早从天空顺滑的掉落下来，打湿了绿叶也浸湿了土地。28公里最虐山路都抛在了身后，再次踏上水泥地。身后传来急促的脚步声，一位男跑手从身边略过，就是在此刻，瞬间调动了全身能量灌注在酸软的双腿上，用力狂奔，追逐，老娘拼了。我们一前一后，在雨丝里穿过人群往山下奔去。已经完赛的跑友，经过身边都大声喊加油。离终点最后一百米，加速，再快点，冲线啊！
看着摄影大哥拍下我冲线的照片：高举双手，整条黝黑的手臂和上胸能清晰看到引以为傲的肌肉线条，从头到脚被汗水雨水混杂着泥土粘附着，低头微笑，心里是骄傲的。二十几年前，我走上龙脊山顶遥看大地，二十几年后，跑进了龙脊心脏观望自己；请允许在这条没有终点只有途中的生命长路自由攀爬。
附记：做为一位女性，被社会，被家庭赋予了多种身份，在众多角色里唯一未被看见的就是“自己”。愿我用尽所有，把自己妥帖的置于山野中大海里雪原内被阳光炙热的裹挟着，这是何等幸运。
作者：6.99
6.99 广州本地人。她希望成为水，无色无味无相，无坚不摧，又柔若无骨，最后化成雾气消散无踪。
2025年9月26日 广州
以上为原文，未翻译版本
Guangzhou native 6.99 captures her first “Longji 100” trail-race challenge with a voice both delicate and unyielding, offering reflections on how women can “see themselves and become themselves” through sport and life.
Running into the Heart
A friend said we’d come to the Longji Rice Terraces more than twenty years ago, that I had climbed fastest back then and reached the summit first. Yet that memory has almost vanished from my mind—what matters now is the present.
It was this offhand recollection that stirred something in me and pushed me to sign up for the “Longji 100” trail run, my first race of its kind. I left Guangzhou at dawn and, after a long day of travel, finally stood at the entrance to the Yao village of Jinkang Dazhai. Beside the materials desk stood an enormous display board listing the names of runners for the 100 km, 75 km, 50 km, 30 km, 20 km, and 10 km events. I was in the 30 km group. After a long search I spotted my name, allowed myself a tiny, smug smile, and moved on. The 100 km list held only a handful of names—true legends. I bowed to them in spirit.
With race kit in hand and a heavy pack on my back, I headed deeper into the village. It was nearly three in the afternoon. Sunlight poured over the terraced hillsides, making the golden rice glow. Around me bustled groups of lean, dark-skinned, muscle-toned runners—men and women brimming with energy. As a petite, middle-aged woman traveling alone, I stood out. On the main stage drums thundered while the MC announced the progress of the day’s 100 km, 75 km, and 50 km racers. I finally understood how electric a trail-run finish line could feel.
At 4:30 a.m. the next morning, I woke—or had I slept at all? Outside the curtain, only faint pinpricks of light dotted the terraces against the black. Earbuds in, I played the song First Day to rouse my sluggish body. At last, it was time.
Seven o’clock: the starting gun. I merged with the crowd and dashed toward the mountains. Today you are your own queen—go for it! I whispered to myself, too shy to shout. The first three kilometers were steep concrete, much like my usual training route on Baiyun Mountain. Even at a slower pace I easily passed many runners, following a small pack of men. Behind me I heard a woman murmur, “How is she so fast?” and someone reply, “It’s just the beginning.” (Touché.)
The concrete gave way to narrow farm tracks flanked by waist-high golden rice. Fueled by a rush of wild energy, I hardly looked at the view, just ran. A few kilometers later, I could no longer keep pace with the leaders but was well ahead of the main group. Then, within sight of the first aid station (7.8 km; ascent 713 m, descent 397 m), my left calf seized violently, yanking my foot outward in stabbing pain. I hobbled like a limping duck to the checkpoint, only for the right calf to join the mutiny. I collapsed on the ground as medics stretched and sprayed my legs. Watching others refuel and charge uphill hurt even more than the cramps.
The second segment was the toughest: 10.4 km with 858 m of climb and 914 m of descent. The trail turned into a wild masterpiece of mud, uneven stones, and twisted roots hidden deep in the mountains. Climbing was manageable—hands and feet together and you’re up—but descending demanded core strength, balance, leg power, and sharp focus. My cautious rhythm—one deliberate step at a time—was no match for the experts who seemed to float down at quadruple speed. Go too slow and you block others; go too fast and gravity flings you off the slope. Meanwhile my water bladders ran low and I chewed the last of my gels and salt tablets, imagining only an icy Coke to keep going.
The third leg (7.7 km; ascent 633 m, descent 283 m) brought a brief reprieve. I refilled my pack, grabbed a small bottle to sip on the move, and downed a half-bowl of lukewarm Coke. It was already past 10:30 a.m.—three and a half hours to cover 18 km. More climbing lay ahead. “This is my pace. Whoever wants to run can run,” I told myself with a laugh, a far cry from the fierce starter I’d been. I had assumed the worst was over, but the mountain never eased. Cramping calves, a protesting lower back, and dwindling energy magnified every weakness. Several women I’d passed earlier overtook me. Memories of missing a sub-100-minute half-marathon finish flashed—would I falter again? Forget everything. Empty the mind. Keep moving.
Finally, the last stretch (5.4 km; ascent 123 m, descent 733 m). The forest canopy released a gentle rain that soaked leaves, trail, and runners alike. With the grueling mountain path behind me, I reached concrete once more. Footsteps closed in; a male runner swept past. Instantly, every ounce of strength surged back. I sprinted after him, rain and mud flying. Spectators shouted encouragement. With the finish line a hundred meters away, I pushed harder, faster—across!
The photographer caught me with arms raised, muscles defined, skin slick with rain and sweat, clothes streaked with mud. I lowered my head and smiled, proud. Twenty years ago I stood atop Longji gazing out at the land. Twenty years later I ran into its heart to gaze inward at myself. On this endless road of life, may I keep climbing freely, knowing there is no final finish line.
Postscript
As a woman, society and family assign me countless roles, yet the one most often unseen is simply “myself.” To place that self wholly in mountains, sea, or snowfield, wrapped in blazing sunlight—that is a rare and precious gift.
Written by: 6.99
6.99 is a native of Guangzhou. She hopes to become like water—colorless, tasteless, without form; unstoppable in strength yet soft as if without bones, and, in the end, to turn into mist and disappear without a trace.
Guangzhou, September 26, 2025
Above is the translated (modified) version
