Zen sat in the shade of the family tent, methodically stretching his calves. The 200m gold medal lay on his towel beside him, catching sunlight when the breeze moved the tent flap.
"Drink more," Angela instructed, handing him another bottle of water. "You need to rehydrate properly before the 400."
DING
[RECOVERY STATUS: 73% COMPLETE]
[HYDRATION LEVELS: SUBOPTIMAL - CONSUME 8-12 OZ WATER]
[RECOMMENDED: LIGHT PROTEIN INTAKE, MINOR ELECTROLYTE REPLENISHMENT]
Zen took the water bottle, following both his mother's instruction and the system's guidance. He'd already eaten the small turkey sandwich and banana Marcus had packed.
"I still can't believe that 200," Marcus said, reviewing his stopwatch. "Twenty-seven flat. That would qualify you for regional competition immediately."
"Is that good?" Zen asked, playing innocent despite knowing exactly how exceptional it was for an eight-year-old.
"Good?" Marcus laughed. "It's extraordinary."
Trey appeared at the tent entrance, his silver medal from the 9-10 age group bouncing against his chest. "Yo, recovery time? Can I join? My mom's taking photos of literally everything."
"Come in," Angela smiled. "Just keep it down. Zen needs to focus for the 400."
Trey plopped down dramatically on an empty chair. "Man, everybody's talking about your 200. Some kid just asked me if you're actually a robot."
"What did you tell them?" Zen asked, grinning.
"I said yes, obviously. Told them your dad built you in a lab." Trey stretched his legs out. "Seriously though, the 9-10 kids are freaking out. None of them could run 27 seconds."
Andre ducked into the tent, his gold medal tucked respectfully into his pocket rather than worn for show. "Hey, just wanted to check in before your 400."
"Thanks," Zen said, appreciating the older boy's interest.
"The 400's a different beast," Andre said, kneeling beside Zen's chair. "It's not just about speed like the 200. It's about being smart, managing your energy through the race."
"That's exactly right," Marcus nodded approvingly.
"First 200 should feel almost too slow," Andre continued. "The third hundred is where the race happens. That's where most kids fall apart."
Zen nodded seriously, though he could have given this lecture himself after years of elite 400m training in his previous life.
DING
[400M RACE STRATEGY OPTIMIZED]
[RECOMMENDED SPLITS: FIRST 200M - 35-36 SECONDS]
[THIRD 100M - PROGRESSIVE ACCELERATION]
[FINAL 100M - MAXIMUM SUSTAINABLE EFFORT]
"Half the kids who dominated the 200 crash in the 400," Andre added. "They go out too fast and die on the final stretch."
"Not happening to me," Zen said with quiet confidence.
"I like this kid," Andre told Marcus with a grin.
Forty-five minutes before his heat, Zen began his warmup routine. The community center track had grown more crowded as afternoon events continued, and he noticed more eyes following him now.
"There he is," he heard someone say. "The kid who ran twenty-seven in the 200."
His primary 400m competitor, Kevin, was watching him from the infield, trying to look casual but clearly studying Zen's every move.
DING
[COMPETITION ASSESSMENT UPDATE]
[PRIMARY RIVAL: KEVIN LEWIS]
[STRATEGY PROJECTION: WILL LIKELY CHALLENGE EARLY, ATTEMPT TO ESTABLISH PSYCHOLOGICAL ADVANTAGE]
[RECOMMENDATION: ALLOW EARLY LEAD, OVERTAKE AT 200-250M MARK]
Marcus noticed Kevin watching too. "That's the Lewis kid. Technically sound, but lacks endurance. He'll try to go out fast to intimidate you."
"Let him," Angela advised. "Run your own race."
A local club coach approached their area. "Mr. Cross? I'm Coach Williams from Central Track Club. Your son's 200 was very impressive."
"Thank you," Marcus said politely.
"We have a development program for exceptional young athletes," the coach continued, handing Marcus a card. "We'd love to have Zen join us for training."
"We appreciate the offer," Angela said. "But we're focusing on today right now."
"Of course," the coach said, glancing at Zen. "Looking forward to seeing the 400."
As the coach walked away, Trey appeared with a chocolate milk. "More fans, huh? You should start charging for autographs."
"Eight and under boys, report to the clerk for 400 meter heats!" the announcer called.
Marcus knelt in front of Zen. "This is your distance. Remember our strategy."
Angela squeezed his shoulder. "Trust your training. Run your race."
"I will," Zen promised, feeling a familiar pre-race calm settle over him.
DING
[400M FINAL PREPARATION]
[HEART RATE: 94 BPM - OPTIMAL PRE-RACE STATE]
[ENERGY SYSTEMS: FULLY RECOVERED]
[RACE PLAN ACTIVATED]
Zen walked toward the start area, hearing Trey call out, "Smoke 'em, Zen!"
Eight boys lined up for Zen's heat. After his 200m performance, he'd been assigned lane 5, the position usually given to the fastest qualifier. Kevin stood in lane 4, casting sideways glances at Zen.
"Lane assignments for heat two, 400 meters, boys 8 and under," the starter announced. "Lane 5, Zen Cross."
A murmur went through the small crowd. Word had spread about the 200m phenom attempting the more grueling 400m.
"I'm getting a good spot for this," Trey told Andre, as they positioned themselves near the final turn.
"You think he can dominate this one too?" Andre asked.
"Dude's not even human," Trey replied. "Did you see that 200?"
Zen took his place at the starting line, focusing on his breathing. The 400m had always been his event. In his previous life, this was where he'd qualified for the Olympics. Where he'd earned his living. Where he'd made his name.
"Runners, take your marks," the starter called.
Zen settled into his stance, feeling the track beneath his spikes.
"Set..."
The world narrowed to the lane in front of him.
BANG!
The gun fired and Zen burst into motion, powerful but controlled. Unlike his all-out start in the 200m, his 400m start was measured, finding rhythm immediately.
Kevin shot out aggressively from lane 4, pushing hard from the gun. Another boy in lane 6 went with him. Zen settled into third position, letting them lead through the first curve.
"Patient start," Marcus commented from the infield. "Perfect."
The first 100 meters was about establishing position without wasting energy. Zen maintained his form, arms driving smoothly, breathing controlled. Kevin had already opened a two-meter lead, running hard to prove himself after the 200m defeat.
DING
[FIRST 100M - ON TARGET]
[CURRENT POSITION: THIRD PLACE - OPTIMAL]
[KEVIN LEADING - PACE UNSUSTAINABLE]
As they hit the backstretch, Zen maintained his control while the leaders began pushing even harder. The gap grew to four meters. From the stands, it might have looked like Zen was already beaten.
"Is he letting them go?" someone asked loudly.
"He's running his own race," Andre explained to Trey. "Watch this."
Approaching the 200m mark, Zen heard his father call out, "Thirty-five two! Good split!"
Right on target. Kevin had hit the halfway point at least a second faster, already showing signs of fatigue. His form was beginning to break down, head tilting back, stride shortening.
Now came the critical third hundred meters. This was where 400m races were won or lost.
Zen began to accelerate gradually, not with a sudden burst but with a controlled increase in effort. His technique remained perfect, chin tucked, shoulders relaxed, arms driving powerfully.
"He's moving," Andre said, pointing. "Right on schedule."
With each stride, Zen closed the gap on the leaders. By the time they reached the far turn, he had moved into second place. Kevin still led, but was visibly struggling, his early pace exacting its toll.
[300M POSITION - SECOND PLACE]
[RECOMMENDED: INITIATE FINAL DRIVE NOW]
[CURRENT EFFORT: 85% - INCREASE TO 95%]
Entering the final curve, Zen made his decisive move. He increased his cadence, powered around the turn, and drew even with Kevin. For a brief moment, they ran shoulder to shoulder.
Then Zen accelerated again.
"Look at that move!" a coach shouted from the infield.
Zen pulled ahead, opening a gap that grew with every stride. Kevin fought to respond but had nothing left. The rest of the field was already far behind.
Coming into the final straight, Zen was all alone.
"GO ZEN!" Trey screamed from the stands.
This was the moment where most young runners fell apart, where the lactic acid burn became overwhelming. But Zen had experienced this feeling thousands of times in his previous life. He knew how to push through it, how to maintain form when every instinct screamed to tighten up.
His arms continued to drive, knees lifting high, stride powerful all the way to the line.
"One sixteen point four!" the official called out, sounding genuinely amazed. "Lane five, first place."
The small crowd erupted. Parents who had come to watch their own children were cheering for this remarkable performance. Coaches from local clubs were already talking among themselves, phones out to make calls.
"Did you see that?" someone said. "He negative split the race. Ran the second 200 faster than the first!"
Zen walked back around the track, breathing hard but in control. The system flashed stats in his vision:
[400M ANALYSIS COMPLETE]
[FINAL TIME: 1:16.4 - EXCEPTIONAL]
[SPLITS: FIRST 200M - 35.2, SECOND 200M - 41.2]
[EXECUTION RATING: 96% OPTIMAL]
Marcus and Angela met him at the finish area, both trying to contain their excitement in front of the growing crowd.
"Perfect execution," Marcus said, handing him water. "Exactly how we planned it."
"You made it look easy," Angela added quietly. "But we know it wasn't."
Trey and Andre pushed through the small crowd that had gathered.
"DUDE!" Trey exclaimed. "That was INSANE! You crushed everyone!"
Andre nodded, clearly impressed. "That was textbook 400 meter running. Most high school kids don't execute that well."
Kevin walked past, looking dejected after fading to fourth place. Zen caught his eye and gave him a respectful nod. Kevin returned it after a moment, acknowledging the clearly superior runner.
"Eight and under boys 400 meter finals will be at 4:00 PM," the announcer called.
"You're definitely making the final," Andre said unnecessarily. "Probably as the top seed after that heat."
"More coaches are coming," Trey observed, looking around. "You're like a celebrity now."
Sure enough, three more club coaches were talking with Marcus and Angela, all handing over business cards and brochures.
DING
[RECOVERY PROTOCOL ACTIVATED]
[FINALS PREPARATION TIMELINE INITIATED]
[RECOMMENDED: 20 MINUTES ACTIVE RECOVERY, 40 MINUTES REST, 25 MINUTES WARM-UP]
By the time the 400m finals arrived, the community center track had a different energy. The stands were fuller than for any other age group race. Word had spread beyond just the 8 and under parents.
"They're all here to watch you," Trey said as they sat in the shade. "No pressure."
"Thanks," Zen said dryly.
"Just do what you did in the heat," Andre advised. "You've got this."
A local sports reporter had shown up, camera in hand, asking questions about "the 8-year-old phenom" running times that would qualify for competitions years above his age group.
When the call came for the finals, Zen felt perfectly calm. The system had guided his recovery, and his body felt ready. This time, he'd been assigned lane 4, the traditional position for the fastest qualifier.
"Run your race," Marcus reminded him. "Don't get caught up in the hype."
"I've got this, Dad," Zen said confidently.
Angela squeezed his hand. "We know you do."
The eight finalists lined up, with Kevin now in lane 5, determined to put up a better fight. The crowd grew quiet as the starter called them to their marks.
"Set..."
The gun fired.
This time, Zen didn't hold back as much. He pushed harder from the start, establishing position immediately behind Kevin, who once again went out aggressively.
The first curve unfolded perfectly, with Zen running smoothly in second place, just a stride behind the leader. The backstretch showed his tactical awareness, maintaining position without wasting energy.
"Thirty-four seven!" Marcus called at the 200m mark. Slightly faster than his heat, but still controlled.
The third hundred meters once again proved decisive. While Kevin tried desperately to hold his lead, Zen began his gradual acceleration. By the 300m mark, he had pulled even.
"Here he comes!" someone shouted from the stands.
Entering the final turn, Zen shifted gears dramatically. His form remained impeccable while the other runners began to fall apart. He pulled ahead by two meters, then four, then six.
The final straight was a victory lap. Zen drove all the way to the line, his technique never wavering despite the fatigue.
"One sixteen point one!" the official announced. "New meet record!"
The crowd cheered enthusiastically. Parents who had no connection to Zen were applauding the performance of this remarkable young athlete.
DING
[400M FINALS ANALYSIS]
[TIME: 1:16.1 - PERSONAL BEST]
[EXECUTION: 98% OPTIMAL]
[PERFORMANCE LEVEL: ELITE FOR AGE GROUP]
"Is that normal?" Trey asked Andre as they watched from the stands. "For an eight-year-old to run that fast?"
Andre shook his head. "Not even close. That time would qualify for national age group championships."
After cooling down, Zen found himself surrounded by well-wishers and curious onlookers. The medal ceremony felt different from the 200m, with officials treating him with a new level of respect.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer said, "first place in the boys 8 and under 400 meters, with a new meet record of 1:16.1, Zen Cross!"
As the gold medal was placed around his neck, Zen caught sight of his parents beaming with pride. This was just the beginning of what he knew could be an extraordinary journey.
After the ceremony, a man in a USA Track and Field polo shirt approached the family. "Mr. and Mrs. Cross? I'm Daniel Roberts, youth development coordinator for the regional USATF chapter. I'd like to discuss some opportunities for Zen."
"What kind of opportunities?" Marcus asked.
"With times like these, he should be competing at the regional level immediately, with an eye toward nationals next year," Roberts explained. "We have elite development camps, specialized coaching resources..."
"We appreciate the interest," Angela said, "but we're handling his training ourselves for now."
"Of course," Roberts nodded, handing over his card. "But the invitation stands. Athletes like Zen come along very rarely."
As they packed up to leave, more parents and coaches stopped by to congratulate them. Trey and Andre helped carry Zen's gear to the car.
"You're famous now," Trey said. "Don't forget us little people when you're in the Olympics."
"That won't happen for a long time," Zen laughed, though internally he knew it was exactly where he was headed.
"Sooner than you think," Andre said seriously. "You've got something special. I've never seen anyone your age run like that."
They exchanged phone numbers and promises to meet at the regional championships the following month.
"You'll be there too?" Zen asked.
"We all qualified today," Andre confirmed. "But you're gonna be the one everyone's talking about."
In the car heading home, Marcus and Angela couldn't stop discussing the day's events.
"Five different elite program invitations," Marcus said, shaking his head in disbelief. "And that USATF development coordinator showing up personally."
"It's going to be different from now on," Angela said. "People are going to have expectations."
"I'll meet them," Zen said from the back seat, looking at his two gold medals.
"We know you will," Marcus said, catching his eye in the rearview mirror. "But we're still taking this step by step. No rushing ahead. Development first, results second."
"The regionals will have actual electronic timing, professional officials," Angela added. "It'll be a good experience for you to see the next level."
Zen nodded, already thinking about the competition ahead. With his parents' guidance and the system's optimization, he was on a path far different from his first life.
This was just the first victory of many to come.