Chapter 88: Under the Spotlight Part-III

Rohan sat quietly for a few moments, letting the silence hang between them. He felt a shift within himself, a loosening of the grip that the pressure had on him. He had been focusing so much on the result—on winning a medal—that he had forgotten the very reason he was here in the first place: to run.

"I think I get it," Rohan said, sitting up straighter. "I need to focus on what I can control and stop worrying about what everyone else wants."

Dr. Kapoor smiled. "Exactly. You're here because you've earned your place, and no matter what happens, you've already achieved something incredible. Now, it's time to do what you love and what you've trained for. Trust yourself, Rohan."

Rohan felt a sense of calm beginning to replace the storm of anxiety that had been swirling inside him for weeks. Dr. Kapoor's words were simple, but they held weight. Rohan had overcome so many challenges to get here—injuries, defeats, moments of doubt—and he had always found a way through. This would be no different.

"Thanks, Dr. Kapoor," Rohan said sincerely. "I needed this."

Dr. Kapoor nodded and stood up. "Anytime. Remember, pressure is a privilege. It means you've reached a level where people expect great things from you. But greatness doesn't come from focusing on the expectations—it comes from focusing on the work. Now, go out there and run your race."

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That night, Rohan returned to his room with a renewed sense of purpose. The noise of the media and the weight of the expectations were still there, but they no longer felt like chains around him. Instead, he felt a quiet determination building inside, a desire to prove something not to the world, but to himself.

He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the small notepad where he often scribbled thoughts or plans. After a moment of hesitation, he picked up a pen and wrote two simple words:

*Run free.*

He repeated the phrase in his mind as he imagined the race ahead. It wasn't about the medal anymore. It wasn't about the crowd or the reporters or the headlines. It was about the run. The feeling of his feet pounding the track, the rhythm of his breath, the focus on the finish line. That was what mattered.

He thought back to when he was a boy, running barefoot through the fields of his village. There had been no medals, no spectators, no pressure—just the joy of running. That's what he needed to channel now. He wasn't running for a medal; he was running because it was what he loved to do.

As he lay down to sleep, Rohan felt lighter than he had in weeks. The race was still ahead, and the stakes were higher than ever, but for the first time, he felt ready. He wasn't going to let the pressure break him. He was going to use it to push himself to new heights.

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The next morning, Rohan woke up before dawn, his mind clearer than it had been in a long time. The Olympic Village was still quiet, the streets almost empty as he made his way to the training track for a light workout. The cool morning air helped calm his nerves, and as he jogged, he focused on his breathing, letting the steady rhythm bring him back to center.

There were no reporters today, no cameras, no distractions. Just the sound of his footsteps on the track and the faint breeze that whispered through the trees. Rohan felt a sense of peace wash over him. This was where he belonged—on the track, doing what he loved.

As he ran, he thought about the upcoming race. He would be competing against the best runners in the world—athletes from Kenya, Ethiopia, the United States—men who had dominated the sport for years. But instead of feeling intimidated, Rohan felt excited. This was the ultimate challenge, and he had worked for years to reach this point. Now, it was time to see how he measured up.

After his workout, Rohan sat on a bench by the track, looking out at the rising sun. He could feel the pressure there, lingering in the background, but it didn't consume him. He knew the media would be waiting for him later, and the questions would come again, but he was ready.

He pulled out his phone and saw a message from Ms. Mehra.

"You've done everything right, Rohan. Now, trust yourself and run your race."

Rohan smiled at the simplicity of the message. Ms. Mehra had always been direct, cutting through the noise with a single statement. She had pushed him to be the best version of himself, and now she was reminding him to trust in the work they had done.

With the Olympics just days away, Rohan's schedule was packed with final preparations, meetings with his coaches, and strategic discussions about the race. But despite the chaos around him, he felt a growing sense of clarity. The work had been done, and now it was time to execute.

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In the days leading up to the race, the media attention reached a fever pitch. Reporters from all over the world swarmed the Olympic Village, looking for stories and interviews with the athletes. Rohan's name was everywhere—on the front pages of newspapers, in television specials, across social media.

"India's Best Hope for Olympic Glory."

"Can Rohan Singh Break the Medal Drought in Athletics?"

"The Runner Who Could Make History."

Rohan saw the headlines, but he didn't let them get to him. He remembered Dr. Kapoor's advice—to change his relationship with the pressure, to see it as fuel rather than a burden. Every time he read about himself, every time a reporter asked him about his chances, he reminded himself that it was all part of the journey. He was here because he had earned it, because he had pushed through every challenge to reach this point.

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Author's note:-

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