The sun hadn't even fully dawned, scattering a weak light over the school track. Cassian stood with the rest of the sprint team, their anticipation lively in the air. Coach Davis, pacing before them with his clipboard in hand, gave off a slightly unusual sense of satisfaction behind the sharpness of his gaze. They'd all just gotten out of exams, and now the moment they were all waiting for had finally arrived.
Coach Davis turned to them as if he saw the hope in their eyes. "I have good news," he declared, and murmurs from the team died as if stopped in its tracks. "All of you passed your exams."
A little thump in the chest was felt by Cassian. He knew he had done well, but hearing the news made a weight fall from his shoulders. Whispers of relief and excitement spread across the group.
"That means you've all qualified for the district sprint competition next week," Coach Davis continued, his voice taking on a harder edge. "But don't think that just because you passed your exams, you're out of the woods. We've got work to do."
Cassian exchanged glances with his teammates. They knew what was coming.
You're going to feel like I'm pushing you harder than ever this week, Coach Davis said, his tone not allowing debate. You're fast, but the competition is going to be a little tougher than anything you've ever faced before. If you want to hit your peak, you are going to have to give me everything you have over the next three days.
He wasn't kidding, though. The next few days of practice were brutal, to say the least.
The training sessions that followed were brutal. Cassian's muscles were in a quiver, and his legs were like stones by the end of each day, but he did not budge. The team focused on everything—from explosive starts to fine-tuning their form in the drive phase, increasing stride length and cadence, and maintaining maximum velocity at the final meters.
Coach Davis taught them reaction time and accuracy. He emphasized every minute detail, even how they stood at the beginning line, the power exerted in the first step, and not wasting one bit of energy in the preliminary phase.
"False starts aren't going to be tolerated," Coach Davis barked in one of the sessions, scanning the bunch of each runner before him. "You need to react the instant that a gun fires, but not a second before. Reaction time can make the difference between winning and losing."
They ran further than their 100-meter requirement, building up endurance and stamina. The relay team perfected baton exchange upon baton exchange until it became as instinctive as moving their limbs. Cassian could see himself improving with every run, but his body was being quite tortured by the relentless rhythm.
He has times that he thinks he would not make it at the end of the week. Every morning, he woke up feeling sore before forcing himself to continue in the long session again. But quitting was out of the question.
The district competition was only a few days away by the end of the week. Coach Davis called the team together after their last practice on Friday:.
You have all worked on it, he said to his team, his voice softer than a little while ago. "Now you can all rely on yourself. I can teach you no more in the next days. You have the speed, strength, and focus. But do not tire yourselves out.".
He turned and faced each of them. "Tomorrow and the following day, no practice. I want you to rest, recover, and be ready to give me everything you've got when we step onto that track next week."
Relief and exhilaration washed over Cassian's countenance. He could now have two days of rest following the grueling sessions they had endured. But he knew in his heart that the real challenge lay ahead of him. The district competition was not about speed alone; it would be about control, precision, and mental toughness.
And as the team broke up, Cassian stayed on the track a little while longer, his eyes going out over the lanes where he'd spent so much hard work. In two days, it would all be empty, and he'd be at the competition, lined up amongst the best runners in the district.
And he'd be ready.