"Blocks at the line!" Coach Dormer's voice carried across the track, cutting through the ambient chatter of thirty-plus athletes.
Miles joined the other sprinters at the starting line, where a row of starting blocks had been positioned in lanes one through six. After the whirlwind day of attention and new social dynamics, there was something reassuringly familiar about the simple steel contraptions anchored to the track.
"Today we're focusing on drive phase," Coach announced, pacing in front of them with his clipboard. "Saturday showed me that most of you—" his eyes briefly landed on Miles, "—have serious room for improvement in the first twenty meters."
Andre nodded beside Miles, his expression serious. "That's where races are won or lost," he murmured.
"Wilson's right," Coach said, having overheard. "The difference between first and fourth often comes down to who gets out of the blocks cleanest and transitions to upright running most efficiently." He gestured to the blocks. "Let's see what we're working with. Set them up for a forty-meter sprint. I want to see where everyone stands."
Miles crouched to adjust his block, setting the pedals to match the measurements he'd determined worked best during previous practices. The Velocity System had helped him identify optimal positions, but he still hadn't fully mastered the technique of exploding out properly.
[Velocity System: Block positioning optimal. Focus on explosiveness and body angle during drive phase.]
As Miles finished his adjustments, Trey sidled up next to him. "So," he said in a low voice, "between the assembly announcement and all the Instagram fame, when are you dropping your merchandise line? I want the 'Miles Runs Fast' hoodie in blue."
Miles snorted. "I'll put you down for the first order."
"Seriously though," Trey continued, adjusting his own blocks, "Ms. Pearson talking to you is a big deal. They only recognize athletes at assembly when they make states or break records."
"Or both," Andre added, joining them. "Which you technically did."
Before Miles could respond, Coach Dormer's whistle cut through the air. "Enough talking! Lane assignments: Wilson lane one, Carter lane two, Washington lane three..." He continued assigning lanes to the dozen sprinters gathered.
Miles moved to lane two, placing his spikes against the blocks and testing their stability. The familiar ritual helped center him after the day's distractions. Here, on the track, the social media storm and hallway whispers faded away. There was only the track, the blocks, and the challenge ahead.
"We'll go two heats," Coach announced. "First six up. On my command."
Miles settled into his blocks alongside Andre, Trey, and three other sprinters. He'd practiced starts dozens of times in the past two weeks but still felt the faint flutter of nerves that accompanied any race-like situation. His performance at the meet had set a standard that now followed him to practice.
"Runners to your marks."
Miles pressed his fingers to the track just behind the starting line, positioning his feet against the block pedals. He'd been focusing on his start technique since joining the team—his natural acceleration was excellent, but his first few steps still needed work.
"Set."
He raised his hips into position, his body coiled like a spring. The world narrowed to just the track ahead and the signal to come.
Coach's whistle pierced the air, and Miles exploded forward. His first three steps were powerful but not quite synchronized—his arms and legs slightly out of the optimal rhythm. By his fifth step, he found his drive position, body angled forward as he pushed against the track.
[Velocity System: Drive phase analysis - Arm action 82% efficient. Knee drive angle suboptimal. Core engagement improving.]
Miles focused on maintaining his forward lean as he accelerated through twenty meters, gradually bringing his torso upright as he hit his stride. Beside him, he could sense Andre pushing hard, their steps nearly synchronized as they approached the forty-meter mark.
They crossed the improvised finish line—a piece of blue tape Coach had placed across the lanes—in a virtual tie, with Miles perhaps a step ahead. Both runners gradually decelerated, circling back toward the starting line as Coach glanced at his stopwatch.
"Carter, 4.67. Wilson, 4.71," Coach called out. "Decent. Washington, 4.85." He continued reading times as the other runners finished.
Miles caught his breath, mentally comparing the time to what he'd accomplished at the meet. This was just practice, no adrenaline of competition, but still solid.
"First heat, reset your blocks for round two," Coach instructed. "Second heat, to the line."
As Miles adjusted his blocks again, Andre gave him an evaluative look. "Your first three steps are still a bit choppy. You're rushing the transition."
"I know," Miles admitted. "I feel like I'm fighting the blocks instead of using them."
"Think about pushing the track away, not just standing up," Andre suggested. "Coach showed me a drill that helped."
Before he could elaborate, Coach blew his whistle to start the second heat. Miles watched his teammates' technique with newfound understanding. Two weeks ago, he would have seen just a bunch of guys running. Now he noticed the subtle differences in their starts—how some pushed too high too quickly, while others stayed too low too long.
[Velocity System: Observational learning activated. Processing comparative technique analysis.]
When it was time for the first heat's second attempt, Miles incorporated Andre's advice, focusing on driving against the track rather than just forward motion. The result was immediate—his start felt more powerful, more controlled.
"Carter, 4.56," Coach called after Miles crossed the line. "Better."
They continued this pattern for nearly thirty minutes—sprinting, getting feedback, adjusting, and trying again. By the sixth round, Miles's quads were burning, but his technique had noticeably improved. The Velocity System data confirmed it, showing percentage improvements in arm action, knee drive, and core engagement with each attempt.
"Alright, gather up," Coach called after the final round. "Forty-meter sprints are just diagnostic. Now we're doing the real work."
Miles joined the group around Coach, using the brief break to catch his breath. Despite the fatigue building in his legs, he felt locked in—fully present in a way that classroom learning rarely achieved for him.
"Partner up," Coach instructed. "We're doing resistance drills. One partner wears the harness, the other provides resistance. Switch after each set."
Andre immediately moved beside Miles. "Partners?"
Miles nodded, grateful to be working with someone who knew what they were doing. Coach distributed elastic harnesses to half the group, and Andre helped Miles into one, attaching the long elastic band to the back.
"I'll resist first," Andre said, taking the handle at the other end of the band. "Twenty meters all-out against resistance, then immediate transition to twenty meters free. Focus on your form even when it's hard."
Miles nodded, moving to the starting line. The resistance band was already taut even at rest—this was going to be challenging.
"Three, two, one, go!" Andre called.
Miles drove forward with everything he had, but the resistance made each step feel like running through wet sand. His form immediately wanted to break down, arms flailing slightly as he fought against the elastic pull.
[Velocity System: Resistance training engaged. Maximizing motor unit recruitment. Form maintenance priority one.]
The System's feedback helped Miles regain his technique, focusing on keeping his movements clean despite the increased effort required. Each step was a battle, his muscles working overtime to generate forward momentum against the band's pull.
Finally, he hit the twenty-meter mark, and Andre released the tension. Suddenly free from resistance, Miles felt like he was flying, his stride opening up as he accelerated through the second twenty meters.
"Nice!" Andre called as Miles completed the drill. "That transition was good—you didn't waste any time shifting gears."
Miles jogged back, breathing hard. "That's harder than it looks."
"That's the point," Andre replied with a grin. "Makes normal sprinting feel easy by comparison."
They switched positions, with Miles now providing resistance while Andre performed the drill. Miles was impressed by the senior's flawless technique even under resistance—his movements remained precise and powerful despite the added difficulty.
After three rounds each, Coach signaled for everyone to return the harnesses and gather again at the starting line.
"Block starts are just the foundation," Coach said, looking over the winded group. "Now we're moving to flying twenties. I want to see your maximum velocity."
Miles took a deep breath, familiar with the drill from previous practices. Unlike block starts, which tested acceleration, flying twenties measured top-end speed—the athlete's ability to maintain maximum velocity over a short distance.
"You'll get a twenty-meter run-up," Coach explained, more for the newer team members than veterans like Andre. "I'll time you only for the marked twenty meters. This isn't about acceleration; it's about holding your top speed."
The sprinters lined up again, this time staggered at different starting points to give each runner enough space. Miles found himself at the back of the line, giving him a chance to observe others before his turn.
[Velocity System: Maximum velocity phase analysis initializing. Comparative assessment mode enabled.]
As Miles watched his teammates, the System highlighted technical elements in his vision—stride length, turnover rate, arm carriage, hip position. The visual breakdown helped him internalize what effective technique looked like at top speed.
When his turn came, Miles took his mark at the designated starting point. With no blocks, this was a standing start into a controlled acceleration, building up to maximum speed before hitting the timed zone.
Miles pushed off, gradually increasing his speed through the run-up. By the time he hit the first timing mark, he was approaching his top velocity, his legs turning over rapidly as he flew down the straightaway.
[Velocity System: Maximum velocity achieved. Current output: 97.8% of potential. Stride frequency optimal. Stride length +2.3% above previous baseline.]
The twenty meters passed in a blur, Miles crossing the second timing mark before gradually decelerating around the curve.
"Carter, 2.13," Coach called out. "That's moving."
Miles circled back, noting the impressed glances from teammates. A 2.13 for twenty meters was exceptional—translating to roughly a 10.65 100-meter pace. For a freshman in practice, it was remarkable.
"One more round," Coach announced. "Then we're moving to strength work."
The second attempt went even better for Miles. Focusing on the System's feedback about arm position and hip rotation, he managed to shave a few hundredths off his time.
"Carter, 2.10," Coach noted, a hint of approval in his otherwise neutral expression. "Wilson, 2.14. Washington, 2.21."
After everyone had completed their second attempt, Coach directed them to the infield for the conditioning portion of practice. This was the part Miles had initially dreaded when joining track—the grueling strength work that left muscles screaming and lungs burning.
"Circuit training today," Coach announced. "Six stations, one minute at each, thirty seconds transition. Three complete circuits." He pointed to different areas where equipment had been set up. "Medicine ball throws, resistance band sprints, box jumps, core work, hurdle mobility, and plyometric lunges."
Miles partnered with Andre again for the circuit, starting at the medicine ball station. The weighted ball felt heavy in his hands as he performed explosive chest passes against the wall, each throw requiring full-body engagement.
"You're stronger than you look," Andre observed as Miles powered through the exercise. "Most freshmen struggle with the ten-pound ball."
Miles hadn't given much thought to his overall strength before, but the Velocity System had been quietly tracking his development in this area too.
[Velocity System: Power output metrics recording. Upper body strength: B-. Lower body strength: B+. Core stability improving.]
As they moved through the stations, Miles found himself less winded than he would have expected. The System's influence on his recovery rate was paying dividends, allowing him to maintain intensity even as fatigue mounted.
By the final circuit, everyone was struggling. Even Andre's usually perfect form showed signs of breakdown as they powered through the last round of box jumps. Miles felt the burn in his quadriceps, the protest of muscles pushed to their limit, but there was something satisfying about the discomfort—tangible evidence of work being done, of improvement being earned.
"Push through!" Coach called from the sideline. "Champions are made when you're tired!"
Miles gritted his teeth and completed the final set of plyometric lunges, legs trembling with effort. When Coach's whistle finally signaled the end of the circuit, he allowed himself to collapse onto the grass beside Andre, both of them breathing hard.
"Not bad for a guy who was hiding from the team two weeks ago," Andre said between breaths.
Miles laughed, the sound coming out more like a wheeze. "I wasn't hiding."
"Bro, Coach had to basically blackmail you to join."
"Fair point."
They lay there for a moment, recovering, before Coach's voice interrupted their respite. "Cool-down lap, then stretch. Practice isn't over until you're properly cooled down."
With a collective groan, the team pulled themselves to their feet and began a slow jog around the track. Miles fell into step beside Andre and Trey, their pace deliberately easy after the intensity of the workout.
"So," Trey said, his breath still not fully recovered, "we doing anything about the counties next week? Team dinner or something?"
"Counties?" Miles asked. "That's next week?"
Andre nodded. "First real championship meet of the indoor season. Everyone who qualified from the league."
"Did I qualify?" Miles asked, though based on his times, he assumed the answer was yes.
Trey snorted. "Did you qualify? Only in like every event you ran."
"The real question," Andre said, "is which events you'll focus on. Coach usually doesn't let freshmen triple, even good ones."
Miles hadn't considered this aspect of competition. At the Central meet, he'd simply run what Coach assigned him. The idea that he might need to choose between events was new.
"What would you recommend?" he asked Andre.
"Depends on your goals," the senior replied thoughtfully. "The 300 is obviously your best event right now. Your 60 is strong too. Relay is guaranteed since we need you for that regardless."
"Coach might let you do all three," Trey added. "You didn't seem that tired at Central, even after four races."
Miles had to hide his smile at that. The Velocity System's enhancement of his recovery rate was his secret advantage—one he couldn't exactly share.
[Velocity System: Race strategy module available. Multi-event optimization protocols can be activated.]
As they completed their cool-down lap and gathered for stretching, Miles found himself genuinely looking forward to counties. The notion would have seemed absurd just a few weeks ago—that he would be eagerly anticipating a track meet, of all things. Yet here he was, discussing strategy and events with his teammates as if he'd been doing this for years.
Coach Dormer approached as they were finishing their stretches. "Carter, a word," he said, gesturing Miles aside.
Miles followed Coach to the edge of the track, wondering if he'd done something wrong despite his strong performance in practice.
"Your drive phase improved today," Coach said without preamble. "Still needs work, but better."
"Thanks, Coach."
"For counties, I'm thinking 60, 300, and relay," Coach continued, consulting his clipboard. "Based on your seed times, you could potentially score in all three."
"Seed times?" Miles asked.
"Your entry marks," Coach explained. "For the 60, you're seeded first at 6.71. For the 300, also first at 34.86."
Miles blinked, the reality of his position still jarring. "First? Like, overall?"
"Yes, Carter, first overall," Coach confirmed with just a hint of amusement. "Did you think those times wouldn't put you at the top of the county standings?"
"I guess I didn't think about it," Miles admitted.
Coach studied him for a moment. "That's probably for the best. Just focus on execution, not expectations." He made a note on his clipboard. "We'll work specifically on your block starts the rest of this week. That's your biggest area for improvement."
"Yes, Coach."
"And Carter?" Coach added as Miles turned to leave. "Nice work today. You're starting to look like you actually belong on this team."
Coming from Coach Dormer, this qualified as effusive praise. Miles nodded, fighting back a smile as he rejoined his teammates.
"What was that about?" Trey asked as they gathered their things to head back to the locker room.
"Counties," Miles replied. "Coach wants me in the 60, 200, and relay."
"Triple threat!" Trey exclaimed, high-fiving Miles. "Told you he'd let you do all three."
Andre gave Miles a thoughtful look. "You ready for that? Counties is different from a dual meet. More pressure, better competition."
Miles considered the question. Two weeks ago, the thought of competing at a championship meet would have terrified him. Now, after Saturday's success, something had shifted in his mindset. The track no longer felt like foreign territory—it felt like somewhere he belonged.
"Yeah," he said with quiet confidence. "I think I am."
[Velocity System: Psychological readiness assessment: 82% positive. Competition confidence metric improving. Recommendation: Continue mental preparation for heightened competitive environment.]
The team made their way back to the locker room, the workout having created a comfortable camaraderie that transcended the hierarchies of high school. Seniors chatted with freshmen, varsity with JV, bound together by the shared experience of pushing through the same challenging practice.
As Miles changed out of his practice gear, he caught a glimpse of himself in the locker room mirror. Physically, he looked the same as he had two weeks ago—same height, same build, same features. But something in his posture, in the way he carried himself, had subtly changed. There was a confidence that hadn't been there before, a sense of purpose.
"Earth to Miles," Trey called, snapping Miles out of his reflection. "We were talking about grabbing food. You in?"
"Can't today," Miles replied, pulling on his hoodie. "Got to help my mom with something."
It wasn't entirely true, but Miles needed some time to process everything—the practice, the upcoming meet, the continued adjustments to his new social standing. Plus, he wanted to explore the Velocity System's race strategy module that had appeared during cool-down.
"Next time then," Andre said. "Rest up. Coach is going to push even harder tomorrow."
Miles shouldered his backpack and headed out, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the campus. The day had been a whirlwind—from the attention in the hallways to the intensity of practice—but for the first time, none of it felt overwhelming. Instead, it felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be, doing exactly what he was meant to do.
As he walked home, Miles pulled out his phone to check the time and noticed a new message notification. It was from Kayla, the girl from Central.
heyyy saw your 40m time on andre's snap story. 4.56 in PRACTICE?? that's insane... you gonna be at counties? we should definitely grab those smoothies after
Miles smiled to himself, typing back a simple response: Yeah, I'll be there. Smoothies sound good.
He pocketed his phone, continuing his walk home with a slight spring in his step that had nothing to do with the Velocity System and everything to do with being a fourteen-year-old boy who'd just made plans with a pretty girl.
The afternoon sun felt warm on his face, and for once, Miles didn't think about his father, or records, or expectations. He just enjoyed the moment—a moment that belonged entirely to him.
[Velocity System: User psychological state optimal. Personal identity integration with athletic identity progressing positively. Current evaluation: Exceptional development trajectory.]