Rohan stood up and paced the small room, his thoughts swirling. He had trained for this for years. He had overcome injury, fought through setbacks, and clawed his way back to the top. He knew he was ready, physically. But mentally, the pressure was becoming too much. He had never felt this kind of weight before, this overwhelming sense that the hopes of millions of people rested on his performance.
He knew he needed to talk to someone. He picked up his phone again and sent a message to Dr. Sunil Kapoor, his sports psychologist. Can we talk? I need some help processing this pressure.
---
Dr. Kapoor had been a key part of Rohan's journey since his recovery from injury, and now, with the Olympics looming, he was once again the person Rohan turned to for guidance. The next morning, they met in a quiet corner of the Olympic Village, away from the media and the crowds.
Dr. Kapoor greeted Rohan with his usual calm demeanor, sensing the tension that radiated from him. "I'm glad you reached out," he said as they sat down on a bench. "I know the pressure must be building."
Rohan let out a long breath. "It's intense, Dr. Kapoor. I've dealt with pressure before, but this… this is something else. It's like everywhere I go, people are talking about me, speculating on whether I'll win a medal. It's all over the news. And back home—people are already calling me a hero, but I haven't even raced yet."
Dr. Kapoor nodded, his expression thoughtful. "The Olympics amplify everything. The stakes, the attention, the expectations. You're not just running for yourself anymore—you're running for your country. That's a huge responsibility, and it's natural to feel overwhelmed by it."
Rohan looked down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting as he spoke. "I'm trying to focus on the race, on my training, but it's like the noise is getting louder. Every time I check my phone, there's another article about me, another interview request. It's like I can't escape it."
Dr. Kapoor leaned forward slightly, his voice steady. "Rohan, the pressure you're feeling is real. But you need to remember that you've faced challenges before—challenges that have tested your mental strength. This is no different. The key is how you respond to it."
Rohan nodded slowly, though the knot of anxiety in his chest remained. "But how do I block it out? How do I ignore the fact that the whole country is expecting me to win?"
Dr. Kapoor gave a small smile. "You don't block it out. You can't ignore it—that would only make it worse. What you need to do is accept the pressure. Acknowledge that it's there, but don't let it control you. Pressure is part of being an athlete at this level. The trick is to change your relationship with it."
Rohan frowned, trying to understand. "Change my relationship with it? What do you mean?"
Dr. Kapoor paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Think of pressure as energy. It's something external that's being directed toward you—by the media, by the fans, by your own expectations. Instead of seeing it as a burden, try to see it as fuel.
Dr. Kapoor continued, his voice calm and steady, "Let it drive you. Pressure, when handled properly, can give you the edge you need. It's a form of energy, and energy can either lift you up or weigh you down. Right now, you're letting it weigh you down, but what if you used it to push yourself forward instead? Accept the pressure, but don't let it overwhelm you."
Rohan leaned back on the bench, letting the idea sink in. The concept was simple, but putting it into practice seemed daunting. He had been fighting the pressure, trying to escape from it, but what Dr. Kapoor was suggesting meant facing it head-on, accepting it as part of the process. Could he do that?
Dr. Kapoor saw the uncertainty in Rohan's face and offered a reassuring smile. "You've done this before, Rohan. Think back to the National Championships when you were coming off your injury. You had the weight of proving yourself, and you did. And again at the World Championships—you came fourth, but you ran one of the best races of your life under immense pressure."
Rohan nodded slowly. He remembered those moments well—the anxiety before the races, the internal battle between fear and confidence. He had felt the pressure then, but he had pushed through it. This was different, though. This was the Olympics, the ultimate stage, and the eyes of an entire nation were on him.
"But this is bigger than any of those," Rohan said, his voice quieter. "This is the Olympics. It's not just about proving myself; it feels like I'm carrying the hopes of so many people. What if I let them down?"
Dr. Kapoor's expression softened. "Rohan, you need to realize something important: You're not responsible for everyone's expectations. You can't control what people hope for or how they'll feel if things don't go according to plan. All you can control is how you approach the race and how you perform. If you focus on the process—on running your race, executing your plan—that's where your power lies. The outcome will take care of itself."
Rohan exhaled deeply, the weight of the conversation sinking in. It was true—he had been consumed by the idea of failure, of disappointing not just himself but an entire country. But the truth was, as Dr. Kapoor said, he couldn't control what people expected from him. He could only control how he prepared, how he raced, and how he handled the pressure.
"I guess I've been too caught up in the outcome," Rohan admitted. "I've been thinking too much about the medal, about what it would mean for India, for my family… for myself."
Dr. Kapoor nodded. "It's natural to think about those things, but they can become distractions. The medal isn't your goal—the race is. Focus on running the best race of your life. Everything else is noise."