ACT 2 OF VOLUME 2
Tuesday morning arrived with the same 5:30 am alarm, the same pre-dawn darkness outside my window, the same ritual of pulling on my running gear and heading out into the quiet London streets. But something was different.
The exhaustion from the preseason had faded, replaced by a new kind of nervous energy, a low hum of anxiety that had nothing to do with my own performance and everything to do with the two new players who were now, officially, my responsibility. Two players. Two futures. Both in my hands.
I pushed myself harder on the 6k run, the soles of my trainers slapping against the pavement in a steady rhythm, trying to outrun the thoughts that were chasing me.
The streets were empty at this hour, just me and the occasional early-morning commuter, the city still half-asleep. My breath came out in visible puffs in the cold air, my legs burning with the effort, but I welcomed the physical discomfort.
