Sometimes I wonder how it would be if political candidates were pitted against each other in battle — in an actual, physical arena where they cannot talk but must showcase their strength and endurance in challenges designed to wean out the weak and reward the last woman (or man) standing.

How would Trump fare against Harris? Maybe Sara versus Leni?

It could result in bumps, scrapes and bruises, but well-earned, and none of the bloody backtalk, nasty wisecracks and deliberately flagrant statements designed to get maximum engagement would ring in our ears.

What a dark and strange world we are in today.

If not for the South Korean reality competition Physical: 100, which this gym-averse, indoors-looking-outdoors writer stumbled upon recently in a last-ditch effort to find respite from the daily grind, I would never have learned to appreciate their culture beyond film, music and fashion. Or found another reason to hope in humankind.

The Netflix series created by MBC producer Jang Ho-gi is riveting, to say the least. And not because of the well-developed bodies of all shapes and sizes — well, not just those, to be honest.

With a “tournament” format, Physical: 100 first determines the power of each physique (man, woman, young, older, Asian, black or white) to rank them accordingly. Then they are formed into teams, where the groups go through elimination challenges that test their “strength, balance, agility, endurance, will power and strategy.”

Toward the end, the teams are broken apart when they are pitted against their own teammates — the best ones of each team get a chance to compete in the final challenge.

Only one person is left standing — he who has outlasted everyone else.

While the show aims to “find the ideal human physique” — just one person out of 100 contestants from various fields of expertise — it has succeeded in showcasing the inner workings of a culture that has given us plenty of idols — but maybe not that much to idolize about, if you ask anyone who prefers to look beyond the physical.

A revelation to this viewer, for one thing, was the sportsmanship displayed by the competitors in the show. While the challenges tended to be brutal, the winners remained humble in their victory while the losers kept their heads up, knowing they had tried their utmost best. Every failure was met with determination to be better, and the team leaders of losing teams would apologize rather than blame anyone else for their failure.

The competitions were physically taxing, pushing the athletes beyond their limit. But no one acted like brats or divas, even though many of them were accomplished in their fields, including gold medalists, action stars and famous personalities in Korea.

Win or lose, everyone simply appreciated all the effort each of them gave. No one trash-talked anyone, and it was always with encouraging words that the contestants commented on each other, especially when they failed the challenge. The focus was on the deed, the effort, not the person’s shortcomings.

Respect flowed in those arenas, especially respect for the older ones who had thrown their hats in the ring no matter their more advanced years.

Meanwhile, a comedian recently joked about how some people reaching a certain age still aspired to run for office. Experience is one thing, but long years do not translate to wisdom.

And it is not a joke, of course, to enter the brutal world of politics. It takes more than a strong body, an even stronger mind and one helluva gut to take all the brawls, bitching and badmouthing that will be coming your way. It would be like running a relay in an endless loop while carrying a 200-pound weight on your shoulders until your legs give way or you lose your mind (and soul) in the process.