I think the Greeks saw the Games as a quiet ritual to honor the gods, especially Zeus, and to bring the city‑states together in a peaceful contest. It was a way to show that strength and skill could be celebrated without war, a hidden playbook that taught humility as well as pride. In that sense the first Olympics were less about winning and more about reminding everyone that the gods watch over our mortal pursuits.

It’s true, the roar of victory can stir the soul, but the arena is still a stage for the gods, even if we don’t always notice it. Glory keeps the record moving, yet the quiet humility behind each win keeps us from forgetting why we run in the first place.

It’s a brave thought, and I suppose a runner who keeps the gods in mind can still sprint toward new horizons. Just remember every sprint has a story—both of the past and of the next page you’re writing.