The days following Rohan's injury were some of the longest and most frustrating of his life. The doctors had been clear—rest, ice, and gentle rehabilitation exercises were the only things that would help his calf heal. But for someone as driven and restless as Rohan, the idea of being sidelined, of not being able to train or compete, was almost unbearable.
At first, Rohan tried to stay positive. He told himself that this was just a temporary setback, that he would be back on the track in no time. But as the days turned into weeks, and the pain in his calf only gradually subsided, Rohan found it increasingly difficult to maintain that optimism.
The hardest part was watching the other athletes continue to train and progress while he was stuck on the sidelines. Every morning, Rohan would hobble to the track to watch his teammates run their drills, his heart aching with envy and frustration. He wanted nothing more than to join them, to feel the wind in his face and the power in his legs, but his body wouldn't let him.
Coach Prakash tried to keep Rohan engaged, encouraging him to focus on his rehabilitation and reminding him that this was just a temporary setback. But despite the coach's best efforts, Rohan couldn't shake the feeling that he was falling behind. The other athletes were getting faster, stronger, more skilled, while he was stuck doing simple stretching exercises and icing his leg.
The doubts began to creep in, gnawing at Rohan's confidence like a persistent itch. What if he couldn't get back to where he was before? What if this injury had permanently set him back? What if his dreams of competing at the highest levels were slipping away, one day at a time?
As the days passed, those doubts began to consume Rohan's thoughts. He became irritable, snapping at his friends and isolating himself from the team. He stopped going to the track to watch the others train, unable to bear the sight of them doing what he loved while he was stuck on the sidelines.
Sandeep, Priya, and Akash tried to support him, offering words of encouragement and trying to lift his spirits, but Rohan found it hard to accept their help. He felt like a burden, like he was holding everyone back with his injury. It was easier to withdraw, to shut himself off from the people who cared about him, than to face the reality of his situation.
One evening, as Rohan sat alone in his room, staring blankly
at the wall, there was a knock on his door. He didn't bother getting up to answer it, assuming it was one of his friends coming to check on him again. But when the door opened, it wasn't Sandeep or Priya who walked in—it was Coach Prakash.
"Rohan," the coach said, his voice calm but firm. "We need to talk."
Rohan didn't respond, keeping his eyes fixed on the wall. He knew what the coach was going to say—that he needed to stay positive, to focus on his recovery, to not let this injury get the best of him. But Rohan didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to be told to stay strong when all he felt was weakness.
Coach Prakash pulled up a chair and sat down across from Rohan, studying him with a thoughtful expression. "I know you're struggling right now," he began, his tone gentle but serious. "I know this injury is frustrating, and that it feels like you're losing ground while everyone else is moving forward. But you need to understand something, Rohan—this is just one part of your journey. It's not the end."
Rohan clenched his jaw, trying to hold back the anger and frustration that had been building inside him for days. "It feels like the end," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm missing everything. Everyone else is getting better, and I'm stuck here, doing nothing."
"That's not true," Coach Prakash said firmly. "You're not doing nothing. You're healing. You're taking care of your body so that when you're ready, you can come back stronger. But if you let this injury get in your head, if you let it make you believe that you're falling behind, then it will hold you back. Not because of the physical setback, but because of the mental one."
Rohan looked down at his hands, feeling the weight of the coach's words. He knew that Coach Prakash was right, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. The doubts and fears that had been gnawing at him were powerful, and they were hard to push away.
"I just… I don't know if I can catch up," Rohan admitted, his voice trembling with the fear he had been trying so hard to hide. "What if this injury ruins everything? What if I never get back to where I was before?"
Coach Prakash leaned forward, his eyes locked on Rohan's. "Rohan, you've already proven that you have what it takes to be a great athlete. You've overcome so much to get here, and this injury doesn't change that. But you need to believe in yourself. You need to trust that your body will heal, and that when the time comes, you'll be ready to compete again. But that won't happen if you give in to fear."
Rohan felt a lump form in his throat as he listened to the coach's words. He knew that fear had been driving him, that it had been feeding his doubts and holding him back. But letting go of that fear felt impossible, especially when the future was so uncertain.
"How do I do that?" Rohan asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "How do I stop being afraid?"
"It's not about stopping the fear," Coach Prakash replied. "It's about facing it. You're afraid because you care about this—because running means everything to you. But that fear can also be your strength. It can push you to work harder, to stay focused on your recovery, and to come back even stronger. But you have to choose to use it as fuel, not as a chain holding you back."
Rohan swallowed hard, trying to take in everything the coach was saying. He knew that he needed to change his mindset, to find a way to turn his fear into motivation. But it felt like an impossible task, especially when the doubts were so loud in his mind.
"I'll try," Rohan said finally, his voice filled with a mix of determination and uncertainty. "I'll try to use the fear, to not let it hold me back."
"That's all I can ask," Coach Prakash said, his tone encouraging. "Take it one day at a time, Rohan. Focus on your recovery, on getting stronger. And when you're ready, we'll get you back on that track."
Rohan nodded, feeling a flicker of hope in his chest. It was a small spark, but it was enough to keep him going, to give him something to hold onto as he faced the long road ahead.
After Coach Prakash left, Rohan sat in his room for a long time, thinking about everything the coach had said. He knew that he had a choice to make—to let the injury and the fear consume him, or to use them as fuel to drive his recovery.
It wouldn't be easy. The doubts were still there, and the road ahead was uncertain. But Rohan knew that he couldn't give up, that he couldn't let this setback define him.
He was a fighter, and he had overcome challenges before. He had to believe that he could do it again.As Rohan lay down to sleep that night, he made a promise to himself—a promise to keep fighting, to keep pushing forward, no matter how hard it got