Used by the Olympic Coach

The lights glow like a swarm of fireflies on a warm summer night.

My eyes struggle to adjust to the brightness. My ears are overwhelmed by the roar of the crowd.

This is it.

I’ve finally arrived.

Holding my nation’s flag high, I step out onto the track. This is the Parade of Nations at the Winter Olympics, and I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years. I began figure skating at a young age, and it consumed me. It isn’t simply a sport—it’s a way of life. The ice rink is my sanctuary. It’s a place where I can forget about the pressures of life and simply express myself through the movements of my body. The adrenaline rush I get each time I execute a jump is unparalleled. It drives me to climb higher and higher, refining my skills and pushing the limits of what’s possible.

Now that I’m in college, I’m a student-athlete who’s been chosen to represent my country at the Olympics. It’s the highest honor I’ve ever known, and I’m determined to make everyone proud.

My heart races as my eyes dart around the stadium. A dazzling display of lights hangs overhead, casting a magical glow on the hordes of athletes below. Banners of every color stand in the center of the arena, representing nations from around the world. Up in the stands, thousands of spectators cheer and wave, looking down and filling me with pride. My fellow athletes march at my side. Some of us are bulky and muscular, while others are slender and graceful. Regardless of our physical build, we all share a common goal—to represent our country and compete at the elite level. We’ve all been training for years, and this is the culmination of that dedication.

“Owen! Slow down!” a voice calls out behind me.

I turn to see Ryan, my best friend. He jogs forward, his long brown hair flopping from side to side with each step. His green eyes sparkle with enthusiasm as a silly grin stretches across his face. He’s on the speed skating team, and we share the same hometown. We’ve been training at the same ice arena for years, and we see each other daily.

“Dude, I can’t believe we made it.” My voice is filled with awe.

“Yeah, man. You’ve been slipping and falling on your ass for years, and it’s all been leading up to this.” He gives me a playful nudge.

“Shut up.” I fake an annoyed expression. “My ass is none of your business.”

The roar of the crowd grows deafening as we approach the halfway point of the track. A grand pedestal stands at the end of the stadium, bearing the Olympic flame. I gaze up at the bowl, marveling at the powerful inferno. Fire flickers and stretches into the air like spindly fingers grasping for something just out of reach. The sight fills me with quiet reverence. It reminds me of why I’m here.

To win.

I’ll do anything to secure a gold medal.

Ryan and I wave and smile at the crowd, basking in the attention until our team walks off the track and back into the arena. We huddle with the other athletes from our country, chatting and discussing sightseeing plans. As the parade winds down, athletes begin to disperse, heading to the Olympic Village to get some rest.

“Alright, I’m heading out. Want to come along?” Ryan asks.

“Sure—let’s go,”

We walk the halls of the arena, but I soon glimpse a familiar face.

“Coach!” I shout.

“Hey, Owen!” My figure skating coach waves.

He stands near the wall, flipping through a set of official-looking documents. He’s known professionally as Coach Miller, and he’s been instrumental in my athletic development. He was a legendary figure skater himself, and he understands the sport inside and out. Even though he’s getting up there in age, he still retains a healthy, athletic glow. His trimmed silver hair is thick and elegant, contrasting with his lightly tan skin. Wrinkles around his blue eyes indicate a lifetime of hardship and perseverance. His sharp, masculine features give off an intimidating aura, but I know he’s a good guy deep down. I hope to be like him someday—he’s got a fit, powerful body that athletes can only dream of having at his age.

“Go ahead without me. I’m gonna stick around,” I say to Ryan.

“Alright.” He shrugs and keeps walking.

“Are you having a good time?” Coach gives me a warm smile.

“Yeah! It was wild out there!”

“I can remember my first Olympics…I learned a lot about myself.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He lets out a low, gravelly laugh. “Are you ready to train hard while you’re here?”

“Definitely! I’m doing our usual exercises, but I wanted to ask if there’s anything I can do to dial it up a notch. I want to give myself every advantage possible.”

“Hm…your training regimen is already pretty intense. You don’t want to burn yourself out.”

“Are you sure? I’ve still got plenty of energy!”

“Well, I’ve been considering adding something new, but I’m not sure you’re ready for it.”

“Lay it on me, Coach! I’ll do anything.”

A strange, lopsided smirk spreads across his face as he stares down at me.

“Alright. The exercise requires some special equipment though. I have it back in my apartment. Follow me.”

I walk beside him through the arena halls as we head toward the Olympic Village. Athletes aren’t the only ones who stay in the village—there’s a residential area set up for coaches too.