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+---- Thread: Tough Training (/showthread.php?tid=7510)
Tough Training - SleepyPlayz - 2025-07-25
“I looked out upon the open valley, almost calling my name. The sun was setting on another’s career while I was stuck waiting for the start of mine.”
That’s something I heard from someone early on. It was an interview, I think it was a collegiate sport interview where I heard that from. Apparently the person who said that had been taking poetry as a major, and it showed in his writing. What I wanted now more than anything was to make up something similar. Sam had been assigning all of his talents with weekly training regiments to make up for “lost time” as he calls it, though I’m not quite sure if “lost” means our loss, or his loss. I looked at the ticking clock as sweat dripped down my forehead. I was assigned with a specific sort of training routine, designed to outpace my opponents. Though he wouldn’t admit it sometimes, he was concerned about us. I looked at the training sheet once again. I’d done the first three, which were heavily focused on the legs, and more weight training than anything. It was less a stamina thing, and more getting used to the sensation of running quickly. This week, I was assigned with the heavy load; 12 hours of training this week compared to Martinez and Moore’s 6. It felt a little unfair, but he said that I needed to improve more and more.
With time seemingly slowing with every step I took, I felt like I was going to collapse. I couldn’t hold my head up, nor could I fully focus on the present. I was in some sort of limbo-esque area, where each tick passed a minute, but also went back in time. I was exhausted by the time I’d gone through each bit of this leg-focused routine. He was the type to preach speed whenever he could, and that showed in this routine.
...
The doors to the train car had closed, and I was on the move to North Carolina. I peered out the window to the very grey side of America. I’d gone to one of his training grounds on a long weekend I had off, and it’s been so long since I’ve been here that I couldn’t help but wonder what Americans were doing. Sure, other countries might look worse, but wasn’t America supposed to be a first world country? Why did it look like it was taken straight out of the Industrial Revolution? An hour had passed and she was still stuck in the grey middle of America. It was weird. She thought it was easier to make things look better, but apparently, everything in America was worse, tenfold. From Agustin’s stories, it seemed like the American way was just to throw everything on the ground when you got the chance.
I looked at the train’s flooring. While Canada may not have been much better in certain aspects, it was certainly more decent than this. I could only hope that America would change by the next time I got back. It was dull here.
Finally I got to North Carolina after a long 3 hours. It wasn’t long because I wasn’t entertained. Instead, it was long because I was fatigued. I was told to try to stay up for the train ride, since it’s easy to miss your stop if you sleep on a train. Whether that was true or not was beyond me. I’d only ever flown to places, so I wouldn’t have known. Waiting on the other side of the door was Sam, a goofy smile on his face, wearing his usual black suit. Apparently, it was the same one he wore on draft day, but it probably was the same brand, not the same suit. If it was the same suit, shouldn’t it be at least a little torn by now? I sighed as I got out of the train, following behind him to his office.
RE: Tough Training - Hero19 - 2025-07-29
Effortlessly paints a picture of the struggles of travel.
You've put in a lot of detail to capture the emotions of your player.
Solid article
Media Grade 4/5