Cheongnamdae 100km Ultra Marathon Part 6 — 'A Long Novel'
I believed that for far too long.
It wasn’t until I passed forty that I realized work is not everything.
This time, those who were laid off were offered three months of additional salary.
Some chose to leave on their own. Others had no choice—their names were called from the list.
When I confirmed that the names of my teammates were not there, I felt relieved.
I wanted to believe that as long as our team wasn’t on the list, this had nothing to do with me.
A few weeks later, as the chaos settled, the new organizational structure was announced.
Two divisions were merged, and the manager of my team—recognized for past performance—became the head of a division with more than 200 people under him, despite holding only a director-level title.
Until then, all I did was congratulate him on his promotion.
Our team of about ten people, responsible for after-sales service and sales, disappeared completely.
I had joined the project from day one as an experienced hire—the only person who had worked on this business from start to finish.
I sold unfinished products through experience and personal networks, and quickly built overseas dealer channels to generate revenue.
While the manager lacked attention to detail, I was the one who effectively led the team.
So naturally, I assumed that when he became division head, I would become the team leader.
But the team vanished. Colleagues were scattered across different departments.
And I was reassigned—from product-specialized sales to handling a specific region in Europe.
At first, I explained the product I had built to country-level sales managers and helped lead them.
I thought I was supporting the current division head, and more than anything, I genuinely wanted the product to succeed.
But months later, I finally understood.
The product was never chosen by dealers and was discontinued not long after.
A former teammate from AS returned from an assignment in the UK and submitted his resignation the moment he came back.
Then he said to me—
“Hyung, do you still not get it? You’ve been completely pushed out.”
I didn’t understand at first.
“After the restructuring, who do you think negotiated the new organization?
You attend meetings, but you can’t decide anything.
Stop just working. Pay attention to what’s happening around you.”
The company launched a new business and began working on a business feasibility report.
Even knowing I was being used, I worked again.
I already knew the pattern—used when needed, cut down the moment things seemed to rise.
Just before I left, the division was split back into two, returning to its old structure.
I once again became head of AS and sales and started rebuilding revenue that had been cut in half.
The CEO visited often. Once a conversation started, it lasted one or two hours.
I wondered if that might have been my last chance to move up.
But in the end, I left the company.
Did the company change?
Or maybe it had always been that way.
What never changed was me—believing that working hard was enough.
And what I realized far too late was this:
Politics and “lines” in a company aren’t stories from TV dramas.
Once you reach your forties, they become the reality standing right in front of you.