The early morning sun cast long shadows across the track as Rohan prepared for another intense training session. He had been riding high on the momentum of his recent victories, pushing himself harder than ever before. The National Junior Team selection trials had gone better than he could have imagined, and Rohan was determined to keep improving, to prove that he belonged among the elite athletes in the country.
Coach Prakash had designed a particularly grueling session for that day, one focused on speed endurance—a test of Rohan's ability to maintain his speed over longer distances. It was a drill Rohan had come to both dread and love. He knew it was crucial for his development as a runner, but it demanded everything he had, both physically and mentally.
As Rohan laced up his shoes and stepped onto the track, he felt a familiar surge of adrenaline. This was where he thrived, where he felt most alive—pushing his body to its limits, feeling the power in his legs, the wind in his face. He was ready for whatever challenge the day would bring.
"All right, Rohan," Coach Prakash called out from the sidelines. "I want you to give it everything you've got today. Focus on maintaining your form, even when you start to feel fatigued. Remember, this is about building endurance, so push through the pain."
Rohan nodded, setting his jaw in determination. He had been training with Coach Prakash for months now, and he had come to trust the coach's judgment completely. If Coach Prakash said this was what he needed to do to get better, then Rohan was going to give it everything he had.
The whistle blew, and Rohan surged forward, his legs pumping with power as he accelerated down the track. The first few laps were smooth, his body moving with the fluidity and grace that came from months of intense training. But as the laps continued, Rohan began to feel the familiar burn in his muscles, the lactic acid building up as his body fought to maintain the pace.
"Keep pushing!" Coach Prakash shouted, his voice cutting through the haze of exhaustion that was beginning to settle over Rohan. "Don't let up now!"
Rohan gritted his teeth and pushed harder, determined not to slow down. He could feel the strain in his legs, the heaviness in his chest, but he refused to let it stop him. He had come too far to back down now.
But then, as he rounded a curve on the track, Rohan felt a sharp, stabbing pain shoot through his right calf. It was so sudden and intense that it took his breath away, and his leg buckled beneath him. He stumbled, barely managing to keep his balance as the pain radiated up his leg.
"Rohan, stop!" Coach Prakash's voice was urgent now, filled with concern. "Stop, right now!"
But Rohan didn't want to stop. He didn't want to give in to the pain. He tried to keep going, tried to push through it, but the pain was too much. His leg gave out completely, and Rohan collapsed onto the track, clutching his calf in agony.
Coach Prakash was at his side in an instant, kneeling down beside him. "Rohan, what happened? Where does it hurt?"
Rohan could barely speak through the pain. "My… my calf," he gasped. "It… it just gave out."
Coach Prakash's face was grim as he gently examined Rohan's leg. "It looks like you've pulled a muscle," he said, his tone serious. "We need to get you off the track and to the medical center."
Rohan's heart sank at the coach's words. A pulled muscle? That could mean days, maybe even weeks of recovery. The thought of being sidelined, of not being able to train, filled him with a deep sense of dread.
With the help of Coach Prakash, Rohan hobbled off the track, each step sending fresh waves of pain through his leg. He could feel the eyes of the other athletes on him as he made his way to the medical center, their expressions a mix of concern and pity. Rohan hated it—hated being seen as weak, as vulnerable. He had always prided himself on his strength, on his ability to push through anything. But now, he felt like he was falling apart.
At the medical center, Rohan was examined by the team's physiotherapist, a no-nonsense woman named Dr. Iyer. She had seen her fair share of injuries over the years and knew exactly what to do.
"You've got a significant strain in your calf muscle," Dr. Iyer explained as she wrapped Rohan's leg in an ice pack. "It's not a tear, which is good, but it's still serious. You're going to need to rest and rehabilitate it properly, or it could turn into something worse."
Rohan's stomach churned with anxiety. "How long will I be out?"
Dr. Iyer pursed her lips, considering. "It depends on how well you respond to treatment, but I'd say at least two to three weeks, possibly more. We'll start with some light therapy and gradually work up to more intense rehab exercises. But you need to take this seriously, Rohan. If you try to rush back too soon, you could re-injure yourself, and that could put you out for even longer."
Two to three weeks. The words echoed in Rohan's mind like a death sentence. Two to three weeks without training, without running, without doing the one thing he loved most in the world. How was he supposed to handle that?
As Dr. Iyer finished wrapping his leg, Rohan felt a wave of frustration and helplessness wash over him. He had been on top of the world just days ago, full of confidence and momentum, and now it felt like everything was slipping away. How was he supposed to compete with the best if he couldn't even stay healthy?
"You'll get through this, Rohan," Dr. Iyer said gently, sensing his distress. "It's a setback, but it's not the end of the world. You're young, you're strong, and you have a great support system here. We'll get you back on track."
Rohan nodded, but his heart wasn't in it. All he could think about was how much time he was going to lose, how far behind he would fall while his competitors continued to train and improve.
As he left the medical center, Rohan felt a heavy weight settle on his shoulders. The walk back to the dormitory was slow and painful, each step a reminder of his injury, of the challenge that lay ahead. He knew that he needed to stay positive, to focus on his recovery, but the doubts had already started to creep in.
What if he couldn't get back to where he was before? What if this injury was the beginning of the end?