“It’s ten kilometers per hour.”
Yi Han muttered and moved his feet.
Tap-tap.
Only after running for about ten minutes did the guide open his mouth again.
“Level 4.”
It became twelve kilometers per hour. Still, there was plenty of room to spare. The three ran on the treadmills without much difficulty.
“Hup, hoo.”
He repeated the motion of slowly inhaling and exhaling. After ten minutes, sweat began to bead. “Level 5.”
It became fourteen kilometers per hour. The graphs displayed on each treadmill swung wildly. Beep. Before anyone knew it, the oxygen intake reading had reached 50. “Hup, hoo.”
The maximum oxygen intake of an average person is usually around 45ml. On average, soccer players measure 62ml and speed skaters 76ml. Generally, Korean marathoners have an oxygen intake in the latter half of the 70ml range. Athlete Yi Bongju was at 78.6ml, and athlete Hwang Yeongjo was at a world top-class 82.5ml.
“Level 6.”
Once it reached sixteen kilometers per hour, the oxygen intake levels rose. An Onho’s indicated 64, Yeounjae’s 62, and Yi Han’s 59. When the numbers stopped climbing further, the intensity was raised another level.
“Level 7.”
It became eighteen kilometers per hour. The time to reach their limits was drawing near. The three figures began to rise rapidly, only to stop again after a certain period.
“Level 8.”
And raising the intensity once more, it reached twenty kilometers per hour. It was the speed of running twenty kilometers in one hour. The three runners’ breathing grew severely ragged. Beep.
Then, another line appeared on athlete Yeounjae’s display.
“Athlete Yeounjae, your lactate threshold is rising rapidly. Athlete An Onho is the same. But Athlete Yi Han’s value is….”
At her words, the guide adjusting the intensity checked Yeounjae’s value and immediately stopped the treadmill. Then he glanced at the woman monitoring the gauges.
“Athlete An Onho too?”
“Yes. But Athlete Yi Han…”
“Wait.”
The guide cut the woman off and handed the printed paper to Yeounjae. “Athlete Yeounjae, your VO2max is 77ml. Your lactate threshold is 82 percent.”
Yeounjae stepped off the treadmill. After wiping his sweat with a towel, he went to the coach’s side. “Good work.”
“Hoo. Yes.”
Yeounjae went over his numbers once more.
“VO2max of 77 and lactate threshold of 82 percent…”
Lactate is a fatigue substance produced as a byproduct of carbohydrate metabolism, accumulated in the muscles and blood. During low-intensity jogging or running, it is removed immediately upon production. But once a certain intensity is surpassed, production increases overwhelmingly compared to removal, causing lactate to pile up rapidly in the body’s muscles and blood. This point is called the lactate threshold. To set a good record, one must run at the fastest speed possible without lactate accumulating. In other words, because one must run at the fastest pace that does not reach the lactate threshold, a person with a high lactate threshold can run at a higher intensity than someone with a low one. Generally, athletes of African descent possess a lactate threshold reaching 90 percent, while Asian athletes possess one reaching 80 percent.
“Are you disappointed?”
“Yes. There’s hardly any difference compared to last year.”
Though he said that, Yeounjae’s expression was stiff. Now at an age approaching thirty-four, his numbers hadn’t increased despite grueling concurrent training. Rather, his maximum oxygen intake had dropped by 1ml compared to the previous year. From now on, with each year he aged, the numbers would only fall further. Beep.
Then, the machine sounded again. At the same time, someone’s treadmill ground to a halt.
“Hahk, hahk.”
It was An Onho. Breathing roughly, he waited for the guide to come.
“Hoo.”
An Onho slowly caught his breath. By now, the guide should have come and given him his numbers. But the guide simply stood there, staring blankly at Yi Han’s treadmill.
“Excuse me…?”
Unable to stand it any longer, the coach stepped forward and tapped the guide’s shoulder. “Huh?”
Only then did the guide turn his head.
“Ah, I’m sorry.”
The guide urgently checked the numbers on An Onho’s treadmill.
“Athlete An Onho, your VO2max is 82ml. Your lactate threshold is 83 percent.”
The coach nodded in satisfaction. But the guide had no time to check the coach’s expression before going to Yi Han’s side. And he opened his mouth, unable to hide his trembling voice.
“R-raise it to Level 9.”
“Hmm?”
The coach’s brow twitched.
“Wait.”
“Yes?”
“Level 9? What are you talking about?”
“Ah, I failed to explain. I was so surprised….”
The coach closed his mouth and stared intently at the guide.
“Even at Level 8, the oxygen intake kept rising. The lactate threshold hasn’t been determined yet either.”
“You mean…”
“Yes. We haven’t measured the maximum yet.”
The coach’s pupils dilated. He had seen Yi Han run before, but today was the first time he was hearing and seeing these detailed numbers. “Hup, hoo.”
Yi Han was still running. As he exhaled roughly, a wave of heat dissipated into the air. Even at Level 9, only after running for a significant time did Yi Han hear the machine. Beep.
“Stop!”
The guide urgently checked the numbers. At the same time, his mouth fell open, unable to hide his astonishment.
“M-maximum oxygen intake 92ml! L-lactate threshold 94 percent!”
The numbers were so astonishing they were hard to believe even seeing them with his own eyes. In Korea—no, among Asians—such numbers had absolutely never existed until now. Even Yi Han, catching his breath, wore an expression of surprise.
It’s gone up quite a bit.
His maximum oxygen intake had originally been around 88, so it had risen by 4. That wasn’t impossible with grueling training. But his lactate threshold had also risen by 3. This was to the point it could almost be called a miracle. Lactate threshold numbers were that difficult to raise.
During rehabilitation, and in the training he began after overcoming his injury, Yi Han had changed greatly. He was a Yi Han who had trained to the very brink of death, beyond mere grueling hardship. That result was manifesting in his current numbers.
“Hoo.”
Yi Han caught his breath and stepped off the treadmill.
A jolt.
Then, he felt a pain like electricity flowing below his knee. Yi Han instinctively stopped in his tracks. And he suppressed with his will the pain threatening to burst through his muscles. Please…!
Fortunately, aside from the tingling sensation, there was no other pain. Only then did Yi Han step forward again with a relieved expression.
“Ah…”
The guide who had been watching him blankly shook his head violently.
“N-next is, I mean….”
He quickly scanned the chart in his hand.
“Ah, please come this way.”
“L-let’s do that.”
And so the coach and the three athletes followed the guide. However, no one noticed the killing intent seeping into An Onho’s gaze as he watched Yi Han from the very back.
“This time…”
A few more measurements were taken after that. Flexibility, agility, and muscular endurance were among them. There too, Yi Han’s numbers were unusually high. Everyone was amazed, and even Yi Han himself was slightly bewildered. It was because he hadn’t checked his numbers for five years since his injury, so he hadn’t known how much they had risen.
Perhaps…
A smile formed at the corners of Yi Han’s mouth as he checked the numbers.
It might be possible.
Yi Han was sincerely grateful that the possibility of completing a distance of over 42 kilometers had arisen—not as a pacemaker, but as a marathoner in his own right.
Hm?
Then, he felt a sharp gaze. When he turned his head, he saw An Onho wearing a strangely eerie expression that seemed nonchalant.
Yi Han soon turned his head back to the front. And he followed behind the guide.
“Now, the doping test results are out. Please come this way.”
At his words, the coach and the three athletes followed. Only after moving to a quiet room did the guide look at the three and scan the documents.
“Let’s see…”
He checked the numbers and nodded.
“Very good. No substances violating the doping test were detected. Here, take this as well.”
The three received the documents from the guide.
“All examinations are finished. I hope you achieve good results when you go to China.”
“Thank you.”
The coach and athletes shook hands with him and exited the building.
“Now, let’s head to the airport.”
“Yes.”
There were two cars. The coach and Yi Han rode in one. An Onho and Yeounjae boarded the other. After several minutes had passed, the coach looked at Yi Han and asked.
“How is your leg?”
“It’s fine.”
“Good. But you never know when it might act up.”
Yi Han didn’t really answer.
“I don’t even expect you to finish. At least get in the lead pack up to the 35-kilometer mark and lead Onho and Unjae. Before that, even if pain comes, endure it and run. Once you pass 35 kilometers, you may do as you please.”
Yi Han nodded. Of course, the coach had meant that Yi Han could give up, but Yi Han took it to mean he could keep running. He would run. He would definitely… win.
And he had to take revenge as well. After this match, he intended to plan meticulously and break An Onho’s leg. Perfectly enough that he would never be able to walk again.
Yi Han sank deep into his chair. And he closed his eyes to stave off boredom.
A short while later, they finally arrived at the airport. In front of the airport, several other marathoners had gathered in addition to the three athletes. They were reserve athletes either for the purpose of observation, or to prepare for injuries that might occur before the race.
“Is everyone here?”
“Yes!”
“Good. Let’s go.”
After checking their tickets, they moved to board the plane. But before long, they were swarmed by reporters.
“Please, just a quick interview!”
“I’m reporter Yi Eunji from KKB Broadcasting. I heard that the three athletes participating in this Olympic marathon are so fast that it’s hard to compare them to anyone up until now. Is that true?”
“Athlete An Onho! I heard you’re the ace; how do you plan to run the race?”
With so many questions pouring out at once, it was dizzying. The coach held them back and pointed to one at a time.
“Now, we’ll do interviews, so one at a time. You said Yi Eunji?”
“Yes. I’m Yi Eunji.”
“As you’ve heard, the three athletes participating in this Olympics are the best ever, if not better.”
“Does that mean you have the confidence to win gold?”
“We’ll have to see, but they won’t fall behind even world top-class athletes. Please look forward to it.”
At the coach’s confident words, reporter Yi Eunji nodded and quickly moved her pen.
“I’m reporter Seong Mingi from MBG. I have a question for Athlete An Onho. How do you feel about being chosen as the ace this time? And how do you plan to run the race?”
“I’m An Onho. When chosen as the ace, it felt like a heavy burden was placed on my shoulders. The concerns, worries, and support of the Korean people are all resting on these shoulders. I’ll do my best not to disappoint. As for race strategy, I intend to stay with the frontrunners and maintain the pace. Then, after passing a certain point, I plan to put on a spurt and break away into the lead alone.”
An Onho was dignified. But rather than overflowing confidence that looked good, he came across as arrogance that made one frown. The interview with An Onho continued, and occasionally they asked about Yeounjae as well. While the coach, An Onho, and Yeounjae were lost in the interview frenzy, Yi Han simply watched them in silence.
“Excuse me. I’m from TBZ Broadcasting. I’d like to ask Athlete Yi Han a question.”
For the first time, a reporter came forward to ask Yi Han a question.