Chapter Fifty-Three: The Champion Coach

The official date when Rousseau and Tian Shiwei joined the national team training for the Eastern Youth Games was October 3, 2004.

There were 27 days left until the opening of the East Asian Youth Games on October 30.

On the afternoon of October 3, after completing their medical examinations—which finished around four o’clock—Lu Jinrong had already left before the check-ups began. Before he departed, he reminded the two once again to train hard, strive for good results, and not to disgrace the Pengcheng sprint team.

As they stood at the entrance of the sports bureau, watching Lu Jinrong’s figure recede into the distance, Tian Shiwei admitted he felt a pang of sadness, as if a child bidding farewell to his parents. After all, he had spent five years in close company with Lu Jinrong. Rousseau, though having spent less time with the coach, was also somewhat moved.

After the medical, Rousseau inquired with Dong Zijian whether the training center had a weight room. Naturally, it did.

Dong Zijian led Rousseau there and introduced him to all the equipment, only to discover that Rousseau was already familiar with everything.

Although this was a national-level training facility, all the equipment here was also available at Pengcheng Sports School. This could only be attributed to Pengcheng’s generous funding and strong support for athletics—everything one might need was provided.

“Since you’ve already trained with this equipment, just be careful and don’t get injured. Here’s your meal card—the cafeteria is right across, meals are served 24 hours a day. If you need anything, just come to me.” After a few more words of advice, Dong Zijian went on his way.

Rousseau began his own training.

Currently, his ‘agility’ was at 39.90 and ‘strength’ at 36.18. To make better use of ‘Acceleration,’ he needed to bring both attributes to the same level. That would allow him to break through once more.

With only 27 days left until the Eastern Youth Games, he needed to increase his strength by 4 points. The time was tight, the task nearly impossible—he couldn’t afford to waste a single moment.

Other athletes were also training in the gym—presumably all participants in the Eastern Youth Games. Rousseau didn’t know any of them, nor did he intend to. He simply focused on his silent, solitary training, watching as his ‘strength’ attribute incrementally improved.

From ‘36.18’ to ‘36.24’…

Then the numbers started flashing red, indicating his body had reached its limit. Though he still had stamina to spare, his muscle tissue was beginning to risk fatigue and tearing. Rousseau stopped, rehydrated, and did some stretches to ease the muscle strain.

The rate of improvement was slowing drastically; in a full hour, his ‘strength’ went up by only 0.06 points. Each day, he could only train effectively for about three hours. With 27 days left and no rest, he would barely reach the balance required between strength and agility.

But what if his efficiency dropped even further?

It was already declining rapidly…

Rousseau was a little anxious.

Just over two months of specialized training had yielded him a great boost in attributes, but he knew this speed of improvement wouldn’t last forever. Even so, he hadn’t expected to hit a plateau so early and so suddenly.

At that moment, Tian Shiwei came over.

“Ready to eat?”

“Let’s go.”

…

They’d already tried the sports bureau’s cafeteria at lunch. Though it was larger and served more athletes, the variety of dishes was inferior to that of Pengcheng Sports Academy. At the very least, there wasn’t nearly as much seafood, not even sea cucumber.

This was a bit disappointing for Tian Shiwei. He’d assumed the national team’s training would come with extraordinary perks, but this was actually less luxurious than Pengcheng.

Rousseau, on the other hand, didn’t mind. He picked out the foods he was accustomed to from his nutrition plan, found a table, and prepared to absorb whatever information Tian Shiwei was about to share.

That’s right—over the past hour, Tian Shiwei had surely already figured out everything and everyone in the sprint team inside and out.

Sure enough, they had only just sat down—Rousseau hadn’t even finished peeling an egg—when Tian Shiwei began to speak.

“You know, the reason we got the chance to try out for the national team at the Eastern Youth Games is thanks to Director Shen from the sports committee. He has connections here at the bureau. But the national coach, Li Yan, holds a lot of authority. So Director Shen’s influence could only get us into the team—anything beyond that is out of his hands.”

“Li Yan was hired from abroad, right?” Rousseau asked.

“Yeah, he signed a five-year contract, which runs until after the Olympics,” Tian Shiwei explained. “So for these five years, he’s basically in charge of all international sprint events for our country—Asian Games, Olympics, everything. But it’s not set in stone; there are breach-of-contract clauses. If his results aren’t up to standard, the bureau can fire him at any time. But until then, he has full authority over the national sprint team, and the bureau can only supervise.”

Finishing, Tian Shiwei couldn’t help but marvel, “Impressive, huh?”

Rousseau echoed the sentiment, though his admiration was for Tian Shiwei’s thorough and timely intelligence-gathering.

“The best 100-meter runner on our team is Zhang Zhen—he can run it in 10.40 seconds.”

Zhang Zhen… The name was familiar; Coach Lu Jinrong had mentioned him often.

“The best for the 200 meters is Chen Tianfu—he clocks in at 21.10 seconds.”

“In short, these are already the fastest under-18 sprinters in the country. We’re here as alternates. But—pay attention to the ‘but’—” Tian Shiwei leaned in and lowered his voice, “Winning is going to be tough.”

“Why?” Rousseau asked.

“Kazakhstan is strong in the 100 meters, Japan dominates the 200, and both are powerful in the 400. The consensus among the team right now is: in the 100 meters, just make sure to reach the finals and fight for a medal; for the 200, aim for the finals; and for the 400, we’re not even trying.”

“How about the 4x100?”

“We’ll try, of course, but it’s unlikely. Our average time isn’t as good as Japan’s. We’re here mainly to add depth to the 4x100 relay bench, so I’m guessing we’ll start training for it as early as tomorrow,” Tian Shiwei replied.

This was crucial information.

At present, to win the 100 meters, you had to run under 10.40 seconds.

Rousseau’s current best for the 100 was over 10.60. Could he shave off another 0.20 seconds in 27 days of hard work?

Almost certainly not. By his own estimation, he might at best match his previous best—below 10.50.

However, with 27 days of focused training, bringing his 200-meter time below 21 seconds was still possible, especially since the ‘Acceleration’ skill was ideally suited for the 200 meters. Its cumulative speed advantage meant Rousseau only got faster as the race went on.

If he could master the curve technique for the 200, Rousseau might well make a splash in that event.

In fact, Rousseau still had another option.

He could reactivate the ‘Burst’ skill and focus on the 100 meters. But could ‘Burst’ carry him under 10.40?

Probably not. He still wouldn’t beat Zhang Zhen, and at best, he would just contribute to the 4x100 relay.

Yet Rousseau didn’t want to be just ‘bench depth’—he wanted to win a medal.

Right now, these two skills, these two approaches, each had their limitations for the 100 and 200 meters.

‘Burst’ had its natural flaws.

‘Acceleration’ was not yet fully mastered.

…

There was no need to hesitate. The 200 meters, then—to chase a chance at a medal. That night, Rousseau made up his mind.