Chapter 47 At 7:30 AM, early morning in Harbin…



Chapter 47 At 7:30 AM, early morning in Harbin…

At 7:30 a.m., while the morning markets in Harbin had already bustled with activity, the short track speed skating training hall at the training center was already brightly lit. On the ice, red and black figures darted across like arrows, kicking up fine ice shards that created a "swish, swish" sound in the quiet hall. This sound was the melody Ren Xiyao knew best.

It's been over a month since Ren Xiyao returned from western Sichuan, and she's been juggling two fronts. On one hand, she's undergoing rigorous recovery training on the ice rink, and on the other hand, she's been receiving psychological counseling twice a week without fail.

Training on the ice is brutal. To recover her physical strength and feel for the ice as quickly as possible, Ren Xiyao put in several times more effort than before, truly starting from the basics. Early in the morning, while her teammates were still warming up, she had already trained alone for nearly an hour, her tight-fitting training suit soaked with sweat, clinging to her back, a mixture of cold and heat. Her training plan was broken down into extremely detailed steps: straight-line acceleration, basic skating, center of gravity control… each movement was repeated thousands of times, tedious and monotonous, yet crucial. She had to start with the simplest training, gradually rebuilding her skills step by step.

The International Skating Union (ISU) has officially banned point start on July 1, 2015, and has made different adjustments to the relevant starting rules. There are many things to adapt to in the new season. Therefore, after resuming training, the coach is extremely strict, even demanding, on every small detail. He constantly corrects Ren Xiyao's posture, even the slightest shift in center of gravity or angle deviation. To restore muscle memory, Ren Xiyao needs to practice many familiar movements hundreds of times until her muscles firmly remember them, without the slightest deviation.

Physical training is done in stages, starting with adaptive and recovery training and gradually increasing the training volume: from single sets of squats, box jumps, and core strength exercises to endless circuit running... After each training session, Ren Xiyao was so exhausted that she collapsed in the rest area, panting heavily, feeling like her lungs were about to explode.

Physical fatigue can be relieved with rest, but psychological barriers remain a major challenge. Deciding to overcome and honestly confronting her psychological problems is only the first step in recovery. Curves remain her biggest nightmare. Every time she approaches a curve at high speed, her body subconsciously slows down and stiffens. She can clearly feel that struggle originating from the depths of her heart, like an invisible hand tightly gripping her, preventing her from leaning her body smoothly and boldly, using centrifugal force to pass through at high speed as she used to.

"No! Your center of gravity is too high! You're not leaning enough!" The coach's shout echoed across the empty ice rink: "Ren Xiyao, what are you hesitating for? Trust your legs, trust your skates!" From the start of her rehabilitation training until now, this kind of voice has frequently been heard on the ice. Her performance fluctuates, sometimes good, sometimes bad, back and forth. Sometimes she thinks she's overcome it and can perfectly and smoothly complete a turn, but then she might not be able to do it on the next turn.

In the counseling room, Ren Xiyao honestly told the therapist about her struggles on the ice rink. This open and honest conversation is a crucial step in psychotherapy.

“Every time I get to that point, I feel like I can’t control myself. Sometimes I’m fine, sometimes I’m not. Sometimes I can get through the bend smoothly, but sometimes I hesitate…” Ren Xiyao’s voice clearly analyzed her problem bit by bit: “I know what I should do. The key points of the technique are engraved in my mind. I’ve done a lot of land training. But my body still won’t listen to me.”

“This is a typical manifestation of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) in a sports setting,” the psychologist explained. “Your two injuries came too close together. Your body hasn’t fully recovered, and both were serious injuries. Your subconscious has firmly linked ‘high-speed cornering’ with ‘danger’ and ‘pain.’ Now, we need to untangle this incorrect connection.”

Over the past month, Ren Xiyao has also undergone systematic desensitization and imagery training under the guidance of a psychology teacher. For example, she closes her eyes and imagines herself skating, starting with the least anxiety-inducing straight-line skating, gradually transitioning to low-speed cornering, medium-speed cornering, and finally high-speed cornering. At each step, she is required to remain relaxed and control her breathing. If she feels anxious, she retreats to the previous step until she can calmly imagine the entire process. She also practices the "butterfly hug" technique (a self-soothing technique), deep breathing relaxation, and positive self-talk that can be used when encountering difficulties during training.

This process wasn't easy. Sometimes, Ren Xiyao still felt her heart race and her palms sweat when imagining herself navigating high-speed corners. But for Ren Xiyao, these were all temporary; she was confident she could overcome them. She treated each mental training session as seriously as completing a training mission. Her training notes not only recorded the number of laps and the time taken, but also her emotional fluctuations and the coping techniques she used.

Fortunately, the daily persistence and hard work do not lie, and gradually, change began to occur.

She no longer deliberately avoids cornering training. In fact, she dedicates more time to specialized cornering training. Although the physical fear still exists, she has learned to recognize it, accept it, and cope with it using appropriate methods. Before starting cornering training, she takes a few deep breaths and silently gives herself positive affirmations: "Relax, focus, believe in yourself." She tells herself these words over and over again.

Such days continued for a long time; the mimosa flowers outside the training base bloomed and faded, until the leaves were lush and green. During a specialized cornering technique training session, they practiced high-speed cornering maneuvers. When it was Ren Xiyao's turn, all eyes were on her. She took a deep breath, started, and accelerated. Approaching the first corner, the familiar heart-pounding sensation returned, but this time she didn't instinctively slow down as before. Countless mental rehearsals, countless positive self-suggestions. Her heart had broken free of its restraints; now only her body remained. At this moment, it too began to sever its chains and resume low-altitude flight.

"Control your breathing...lower your center of gravity...lean...trust your skates..."

Ren Xiyao gritted her teeth, leaning her body inward, her left leg bearing all the pressure—a long-lost feeling of fully engaging all her muscles. The ice skate sliced ​​a perfect arc across the ice. At that moment, Ren Xiyao heard the melodious sound of the skate rubbing against the ice, not the terrifying crashing sound she remembered.

She did it! She navigated the first bend at a speed close to her pre-injury level!

Then came the second, the third… She skated faster and faster, more and more smoothly. The fear hadn't completely disappeared, but its impact on her had been minimized, or rather, it had been suppressed by a stronger force: desire and determination. She was no longer a prisoner bound by fear, but had once again become the confident and courageous athlete on the ice.

As she completed the final lap and crossed the finish line, the entire training hall erupted in enthusiastic applause. Her coach excitedly rushed forward and patted her on the back forcefully: "Fantastic! Xiyao, you did it!" Seeing the excited expression on her coach's face, who had watched her grow up, the tension she had been holding in for so long finally eased. The other athletes and coaches training alongside her also offered their congratulations. Looking towards the athletes' exit, the sports psychologist was also applauding her. Everything would continue to move in a positive direction.

Ren Xiyao took off her helmet, sweat streaming down her face. She gasped for breath, but a long-lost smile appeared on her face. In that smile, there was exhaustion, relief, and the joy of rebirth.

After the training, Ren Xiyao sent the training video to Quan Zhilong, followed by a message: "I completed a whole set of training today. It felt so good to fly at low altitude for the first time in a long time."

Meanwhile, 2015 was a crucial year for Kwon Ji-yong and his group. It marked the group's comeback after three years, and the final stages of production for their upcoming 10th-anniversary album. Everyone was filled with anticipation, and he poured his heart and soul into this album. Although he had completed most of his work before leaving for two weeks, his return was still overwhelmed with tasks.

That's how their lives are. Separated by an hour's time difference between Seoul and Harbin, they're both too busy to keep in touch except for brief phone calls each day. He's worried about Ren Xiyao, but with the group's comeback date drawing closer, there are more and more schedules coming up. Plus, the frequent schedule changes have already put the media and sasaeng fans on their guard, so he can't see her for the time being.

Fortunately, after their open and honest interaction, Ren Xiyao stopped hiding things from him. She would honestly tell him the details of her training. She no longer avoided talking about her fears and struggles, and she would also tell him about her psychological treatment process. He could feel that the calm and rational Ren Xiyao from training and competitions was gradually returning, but no longer so relaxed. Just as Ren Xiyao herself said, she was learning how to live with her injuries. In Li Enjing's words, athletes who overcome injuries and PTSD will definitely reach the next level once they return to the field. Their strength and mentality will be completely different. Quan Zhilong was waiting for this day, and he would be genuinely happy for her.

Until this day, he stared at the computer screen, the song he had just recorded playing on repeat in his headphones. He had listened to the melody hundreds of times; his ears were numb. He had been working at high intensity for two days straight with almost no rest, and his temples were throbbing with pain. He had just taken off his headphones, rubbed his temples, and was about to catch his breath.

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and glanced at it; it was a message from Ren Xiyao. It was a video, the thumbnail showing the ice rink's railing. He instinctively felt a little nervous but hesitated for a second before clicking play. The video was a bit shaky, clearly filmed with a phone.

Kwon Ji-yong suddenly stood up, the chair scraping loudly on the floor.

"What's wrong?" His agent and producer both looked at him. He didn't answer, just stared at his phone screen.

I saw Ren Xiyao's text message: "I completed a whole training session today. It felt so good to fly low for the first time in a long time."

He read that simple sentence three times. Something swelled in his chest, dispelling all fatigue and frustration. He wanted to rush to the ice rink, hug her, and spin her around, to tell the whole world how amazing his girl was. But he just took a deep breath. Then he turned to his agent: "Give me ten minutes." Without waiting for a reply, he strode out of the recording studio, across the corridor, and pushed open the emergency exit door. Sitting in the empty stairwell, he made a video call.

Continue read on readnovelmtl.com


Recommendation



Comments

Please login to comment

Support Us

Donate to disable ads.

Buy Me a Coffee at ko-fi.com
Chapter List