The Su God of the Reopening of the Sports Arena

Chapter 2574 The Silver Medal is Also Ours

Chapter 2574 The Silver Medal is Also Ours
The world's attention was focused on the red lightning bolt, but this gentle breeze also caressed Zhao Haohuan's tall, upright figure, which was just over 1.9 meters tall.

The moment he crossed the finish line, he made no gesture of celebration. He simply hunched his back slightly, placed his hands on his knees, and let out heavy breathing mixed with the rise and fall of his chest.

It stood out clearly amidst the deafening cheers of the stadium.

He simply couldn't believe he had made it to this position.

As his gaze swept across the red figure already fixed at the finish line, Su Shen's 9.59 seconds stood like a monument at the pinnacle of the 100-meter race.

In Zhao Haohuan's mind, only one number kept echoing—9.75 seconds.

This result was 0.05 seconds short of his pre-race goal of 9.70 seconds.

0.05 seconds is just a blink of an eye on the 100-meter track, but it is the barrier he has been trying to break through day and night in his training.

He thought that with his current form and giving it his all, breaking the 9.70-second barrier would be a natural outcome.

But no one expected that the break between the semi-finals and the finals would be so ridiculously short.

Otherwise, even if the wind on the field only provides a slight boost of 0.2 meters per second, he would still have extremely high expectations for himself.

After all, as one of the few tall athletes in the Chinese sprint team who excels in the later stages of the race, his 1.9-meter height gives him a stride advantage that is difficult for others to match. After years of honing his skills, he has already mastered the balance between stride length and stride frequency, which contributes to his sprinting ability in the later stages of the race.

Besides Bolt, there's also Gay's retirement now.

He is the strongest active player.

After all, Blake's advantage in the later stages is more evident in the 200-meter race.

But in this match, he ultimately failed to achieve his goal.

With two top-tier athletes like Gatlin and Powell, he believes that if he can't break the 9.70-second barrier, he probably has no chance.

However, this conclusion is based on previous viewpoints, which were indeed the case in the past.

Even if you open version 9.70, you might not get a medal.

If it's not even opened, then there's no chance.

With his whole body focused, he was extremely concentrated, wanting to perform at his best, but...

In the seconds after crossing the finish line, Zhao Haohuan's heart was filled with an indescribable sense of loss.

He straightened up, raised his hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead, and the sweat, mixed with the reflection of the stadium lights, slid down his angular face.

A drop of water landed on the red plastic track, spreading out in a small wet patch.

He looked up at the electronic timing screen in the arena. The numbers on the screen were still jumping. Apart from Su Shen's 9.59 seconds, the scores of the other contestants had not yet been completely finalized.

His gaze lingered on his own name for a long time; the number 9.75 seconds felt like a fine needle, gently pricking his heart.

"It still won't open; it's just a little bit off."

He muttered to himself, his brow furrowing involuntarily. He had given it his all in this match, but he felt something was missing.

The athletes had not fully recovered from the physical exertion of the semi-finals, and the tight schedule of the competition had pushed all the athletes to their limits. Su Shen's red figure speeding away on the track created an invisible aura.

It's like two strong teams passing through, affecting all the players involved without them even realizing it.

In fact, he was least affected by Su Shen.

Hold the line at the front and use a bent-arm start to reduce disadvantages.

Twenty meters, thirty meters.

Then gradually increase the speed.

Enter your dessert area.

Su Shen had already created a distance of several meters, while Zhao Haohuan began to gradually increase his speed. The angle of his forward lean adjusted slowly as his speed increased, and the folding and unfolding of his hips became increasingly smooth.

The stride advantage brought by his 1.9-meter height began to be fully displayed at this moment.

Each leg fold is perfectly timed, the forward swing of the leg and the hip thrust are fluid and powerful, maximizing the potential of the stride.

The force of the back leg pushes off the ground quickly, and the toes grip the ground to propel the leg forward again.

His core muscles acted like a solid steel plate, firmly stabilizing his high center of gravity, so that even as his speed continued to increase, his upper body maintained a stable posture.

The shoulders and back are relaxed, without any stiffness caused by excessive force. The frequency of arm swing increases in sync with the rhythm of leg kicking, and the swing amplitude of the arms is perfectly matched with the stride.

The power transfer from the waist and abdomen to the upper limbs is unimpeded.

Even the breathing and the rhythm of the leg kick are completely synchronized.

Each inhale and exhale is precisely timed to coincide with the push-off and swing, providing ample oxygen for the body's sustained power output.

That's really well done.

This is the technique he honed day and night, the foundation upon which he stands as a late-game athlete.

On the 100-meter track, the early runners rely on their start to determine the outcome, while the later runners rely on speed and rhythm to overtake others in the middle and later stages.

Zhao Haohuan firmly believes that his future performance will be enough for him to secure a place on the world stage.

Now both Bolt and Gay have retired.

I should be the number one presence in the later stages.

Forty meters, fifty meters, sixty meters.

The situation on the track is gradually becoming clear.

Su Shen's lead is now unshakeable, while the players behind him are now engaged in a fierce battle for position.

Zhao Haohuan could clearly hear the sound of spikes rubbing against the rubber track beside him, and could sense that Blake was not far away. This former 100-meter prodigy still had considerable strength.

Meanwhile, veterans Gatlin and Powell were also gritting their teeth and persevering, but their slightly stiff movements clearly showed their exhaustion.

No, these two shouldn't be experiencing physical problems so early.

The competition format is just too short.

The break between the semi-finals and the finals was so short that it broke the norm for previous major competitions. This was already a test for young athletes, but it was even more fatal for Gatlin and Powell, who were already over thirty.

Sprinters' physical recovery requires precise timing and scientific adjustments, but such a tight competition format directly interrupts their recovery process. Lactic acid buildup in muscles cannot be metabolized in time, and nerve tension cannot be relieved.

Every push-off and swing on the field felt like exhausting the last bit of strength in the body.

Zhao Haohuan is still in his early twenties, not yet 30.

This gives them an advantage due to their age.

In addition, years of scientific training, scientific recovery, and nutritional balance have kept his body almost always within a suitable range.

Secondly, for a whole year, Su Shen was actually engaged in short-range continuous combat.

It was included as one of the training programs.

The body also adapts better.

Between the ebb and flow of things.

The advantages it brought him were not insignificant.

Even Blake, who is younger than him.

He doesn't feel as comfortable here at all.

This means that whether he's comparing himself to older players like Powell and Gatlin, or to younger players like Blake, it's a significant difference.

Both have their advantages.

Having an advantage in a major competition is an extremely rare thing.

Although Zhao Haohuan could feel that his body was also undergoing the same test.

Before he could fully recover from the exertion of the semi-final, the high-intensity sprint in the final caused his leg muscles to start to feel slightly sore.

But... he is younger than these veterans, has better physical reserves than them, and more importantly, like Su Shen, he has been preparing for this competition format all year round.

The team had anticipated various unforeseen circumstances that might arise during the competition, and the tight schedule of training became an important part of their daily training.

Countless short-interval, high-intensity sprints have made his body accustomed to this rhythm.

Seventy meters, eighty meters—the golden moment for runners in the later stages has arrived.

Zhao Haohuan maintained his peak speed, while Blake beside him began to show subtle changes in his movements, with the range of his arm swing gradually decreasing and the power of his leg kick also starting to decline.

Gatling and Powell were left further and further behind.

The two veterans' faces were etched with fatigue, and their kicking and swinging rhythm had long lost the fluidity and precision of their peak years.

At that moment, Zhao Haohuan was worried that he wasn't running fast enough, so he didn't pay attention to these details at all.

He just wanted to seize the opportunity to add another bronze medal to his resume.

Ideally, it would be the Olympics.

For this goal.

Zhao Haohuan began his final sprint.

Bang bang bang bang bang.

He slightly increased the range of his arm swing, releasing all the remaining power in his body. His height of just over 1.9 meters made each stride of his body longer than that of the athletes next to him.

Especially after exhaustion, the body's original proportions are more effective than expected.

His gaze was fixed on the front, past Su Shen's figure, looking towards the finish line, with only one thought in his mind:
Charge, faster!

Make sure to turn on 9.70 seconds.

Ninety meters, one hundred meters.

Press the line.

At the moment he crossed the finish line, he could feel that his muscles had reached their limit.

But the anticipated 9.70 seconds never came.

So, after crossing the finish line, he was filled with disappointment.

He felt he hadn't run well, that he had let down the coaching team and all his hard work training day after day. He didn't even dare look at the coach on the sidelines, afraid of seeing the disappointment in his eyes.

Some are also afraid to look at their own team.

Because if you perform well, your team members will feel proud, and you might even get a promotion and a raise.

He simply stood by the track, watching Su Shen surrounded by the crowd, watching the cheers from the stadium rise higher and higher, and he himself seemed to have become a bystander in this ultimate feast.

And at this time.

He suddenly saw a group of people rushing towards him. Even his hands...

They were still holding that bright red flag.

This……

The runners around me crossed the finish line one after another.

They each had different reactions.

Blake took off his fitness tracker, shook his head with a serious expression, clearly dissatisfied with his performance.

The competition format was too tight, and I didn't perform well.

Gatlin sat down on the track, covered his face with his hands, and didn't get up for a long time. The marks left by time on him were clearly visible at that moment.

If it weren't for this competition format, he wouldn't have been without a chance.

Powell, holding his knees, was panting heavily, his eyes filled with exhaustion. This former 100-meter star had ultimately succumbed to age and the tight competition format.

Powell never expected that age would have such a big impact; the feeling of continuously outputting damage was too uncomfortable.

"What are you doing, Brother Zhao!"

"Are you so happy you've gone mad?"

"Hurry up and put it on, let's go take pictures!"

what?
Photograph?

I?
It was only then that Zhao Haohuan realized something.

Suddenly, I remembered that when I crossed the finish line, there didn't seem to be any other spiked shoes nearby.

This……

In an instant, he finally knew what he should do and looked up at the entire electronic form of his grades.

He stood frozen in place, his gaze fixed on his name and the number 9.75 seconds on the electronic screen, along with the ranking of "2" that followed.

The cheers, shouts, and conversations of the athletes all seemed to disappear at that moment.

In his world, all that remained were the few numbers on the electronic screen and his own violently pounding heart.

9.75 seconds, failing to reach 9.70 seconds, yet he was...

Second place.

He came in second in the 100-meter final of this competition.

He is second only to Suarez, surpassing Blake, Gatlin, Powell and other world-class athletes.

A silver medal.

The silver medal in the competition.

It was a silver medal in a major Olympic competition.

This is the first silver medal in a major competition in his career.

hiss------

Before this, he had never imagined that he could win a medal above bronze in such a world-class competition.

He is a top force in the Chinese sprint team, a pursuer behind Suarez. On the domestic stage, he can win championships and break records, but on the world stage, facing a group of top athletes, he...

It consistently hovered around fourth or fifth place.

Winning a bronze medal occasionally is already a huge surprise.

He once thought that his career might just end there.

Under Su Shen's brilliance and surrounded by the world's top players, winning a bronze medal would be the limit.

He even thought that in a few years, as he gets older and his physical fitness declines, he might not even be able to touch a bronze medal anymore. He could only watch the younger athletes rise on the field and watch his own name gradually disappear from the top rankings.

But now...

But now, he has won the silver medal.

Outperforming Blake, outperforming Gatlin, outperforming Powell, awaiting the giant-level.

They won a solid silver medal in the competition.

The disappointment of not being able to break the 9.70-second barrier vanished instantly in the face of this silver medal.

Like the evening breeze of Maracanã, it was gently blown across the track, leaving no trace.

Instead, there was an indescribable ecstasy.

Like a volcanic eruption, it surged and churned in his chest, almost overwhelming his reason.

He remained rooted to the spot, his fingers trembling slightly, unable to believe what he was seeing.

All of this happened so suddenly and unexpectedly that he was caught off guard.

Zhao Haohuan recalled his pre-race anticipation, his disappointment after crossing the finish line, his daily training, and the meticulous guidance from his coaching team.

I remembered the sweat I shed on the training field and the days and nights I endured.

Those sacrifices, those perseverances, those unseen efforts.

At this moment, everyone has received their greatest reward.

And it's the best return.

"Second place...I'm second place..."

He kept repeating it to himself, his voice choked with emotion, and his eyes involuntarily reddened.

call.

The evening breeze swept across the stadium once more.

It blew a breeze up the stray hairs on his forehead.

It also roused him from his shock.

He suddenly looked up at the large electronic screen.

The lights of the Maracanã Stadium are dazzling.

The light shone on his face, seemingly reflecting the glistening tears in his eyes.

This exceeded his expectations.

This exceeded his career expectations.

To win an Olympic silver medal in such a terrifying era.

He really felt himself.

I'd be willing to die.

This is the most genuine feeling of a professional athlete winning a silver medal in the most prestigious event.

Zhao Haohuan opened his mouth and, with all his might, let out a deafening roar:

"what--!!!"

This roar broke through the noise of the arena, broke through all the repression, and broke through the regret and unwillingness of many years.

That loud shout was a sound of surprise, ecstasy, and excitement.

It is the best proof of one's career.

He rarely shows such impulses, but now...

If we don't do it now, when will we?

Zhao Haohuan's body trembled slightly with excitement, and his 1.9-meter frame appeared exceptionally tall and straight under the dazzling lights.

He looked down again at the numbers on the electronic screen, at his own name, at the second-place ranking, and at the silver medal that belonged to him.

Zhao Haohuan.

A bright smile finally bloomed on his face.

That smile was like sunshine after the rain.

It dispelled all the gloom.

purely.

Filled with indescribable joy and pride.

He raised his hand and vigorously wiped his face, removing both tears and sweat.

Then he opened his mouth again and let out another roar.

This time, the roar was louder and more exhilarating:

"Silver medal! I got a silver medal!!!"

"I'm the Olympic silver medalist!!!"

"I'm the Olympic silver medalist in the 100 meters!!!"