Rest Day

Marcus woke up the next day, getting off his bed. He had decided to head to Motspur Park today for some training even though it was a rest day due to the team having a match the previous day.

With a sigh, Marcus shuffled to the kitchen, where the hum of the fridge filled the otherwise quiet flat. He opened the door, grabbed the carton of milk, and poured it over his cereal. The routine of breakfast was comforting in its simplicity, but his mind was already at the gym. He quickly downed the cereal, the cold milk waking him up fully. Afterward, he took a brisk shower, letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles. He brushed his teeth, the minty taste fresh on his tongue as he mentally prepared for the training ahead.

Dressed in his training gear, Marcus grabbed his keys and headed out the door. The chill of the February morning hit him as soon as he stepped outside, but he barely noticed, his mind focused on the task ahead. He slid into his black BMW, the leather seat soft beneath him. As he started the engine, the radio automatically came on, filling the car with the beat of a popular track. The rhythm seemed to sync with his heartbeat, energizing him as he drove through the early morning streets of London.

The roads were relatively quiet, the usual bustle of the city still waking up. As he approached Motspur Park, the sight of the familiar grounds brought a sense of calm. This was his sanctuary, the place where he could lose himself in the grind, where every drop of sweat was a step closer to his goals. He parked the car and made his way to the gym, his footsteps echoing in the empty locker room as he changed into his training gear.

Coach Dmitri was already there, waiting for him with a knowing look. They had made these arrangements yesterday, after the game. Marcus had been clear about what he wanted to work on. He needed to improve his stamina, his agility, and his set-piece taking. He couldn't afford to have another game slip through his fingers because of something he could control.

"Morning, Marcus," Coach Dmitri greeted him with a nod. "So, what's the plan today?"

"I'm trying to improve my stamina and agility," Marcus replied, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "And I need to work on my set-pieces. If only I could have maintained my pace for a little longer yesterday, we might have won that match."

Coach Dmitri studied him for a moment, noting the determination in his eyes. "I see," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "I've got just the thing, but it won't be easy. You sure you're up for it?"

"Yeah, I am," Marcus replied, his resolve hardening.

"Good," the coach said with a small smile. "Follow me."

They walked out to the green, Coach Dmitri carrying a set of cones. He placed them about fifty meters apart, while Marcus watched, mentally preparing himself. "Here's what we're going to do," the coach explained. "You're going to sprint from the start cone to the end cone, then walk back to the start. We'll repeat this for 10-15 sprints with minimal rest between each sprint. This will help with your stamina and agility."

"Alright," Marcus said, pulling his beanie over his head to ward off the cold. February mornings in London were no joke, and the chill bit into his skin. "Let's get to it."

For the next hour, they worked tirelessly. Marcus pushed himself to the limit, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps as he completed each sprint. By the end of the session, his legs felt like they were made of lead, and his lungs burned with every breath. He was exhausted, but he knew this was what it would take to get better.

Finally, Coach Dmitri called for a break. Marcus collapsed onto the grass, his chest heaving as he took a long drink from his water bottle. He glanced over at the coach, who was only slightly out of breath, and couldn't help but wonder, 'What's this guy made of?'

After a brief rest, they were back at it, moving through different drills designed to target his specific needs. The sun was beginning to dip in the sky by the time they finished. Marcus was completely spent, lying flat on his back, staring up at the sky.

"I want you to continue this routine alongside your normal team training sessions," Coach Dmitri said, looking down at him. "You should see some improvement in the next few months."

"Thanks, coach," Marcus managed to say between deep breaths.

"Good," Coach Dmitri replied, giving him a nod before walking away, leaving Marcus to recover on the ground. After a moment, Marcus forced himself to get up and headed to the showers. The hot water felt like heaven on his tired muscles, and as he changed into his casual clothes, he could feel a sense of accomplishment settling in. He picked up his bag and made his way to the parking lot.

As he unlocked his car, he noticed Coach Anderson stepping out of the training grounds with a middle-aged man beside him. They were deep in conversation, and Marcus watched as they shook hands before Coach Anderson got into his vehicle and drove off.

"Looks like Coach Anderson might become interim manager," Marcus thought as he started the engine of his BMW. 'I need to work harder' he thought as he drove away.