July 13th.
Sherbrooke University Stadium, Canada.
The ground temperature was 21°C, with a headwind of 1.1 m/s.
Wearing his yellow and green Jamaican track uniform, Bolt stood at the starting line, waiting for the 200m final to begin.
After running a 20.43 in the semifinals, he had rightfully earned his place in lane four.
He shook his limbs lightly to relax, but his eyes were fixed on the distant stands, searching the moving crowd for a familiar face.
But he couldn’t find the person he was looking for.
"Usain!"
Just then, Bolt heard someone call his name.
He looked toward the voice. In the nearby athlete preparation area, Glenn Mills was looking his way, gesturing for him to take a deep breath and relax.
Bolt gave a slight nod but couldn’t stop his eyes from scanning the stands again, searching for Chen Yu.
Chen Yu had said he would come to watch his race.
Bolt knew Chen Yu was busy—not just ordinarily busy, either. He’d seen in the news that Chen Yu had joined FIFA and was even involved with this year’s Women’s World Cup. Mills had told him that Chen Yu had organized an inspection tour to China.
So, even if Chen Yu really couldn’t make it, Bolt wouldn’t hold it against him.
But deep down, he desperately hoped Chen Yu would make it in time.
It had been almost a year since he’d met Chen Yu. In that time, Chen Yu had helped him get surgery, guided his recovery, and overseen his training in the United States.
Over the past year, Chen Yu had taken great care of him.
Not just with his training and daily life, but mentally as well.
Mills was a good coach. He was strict during training, but he was also a good man who cared about him a great deal in private.
Of course, Bolt also had parents and a family who loved him very much.
But Bolt had always felt that no one could truly understand him. He was talented, yes, and he’d started running at a young age, but the endless professional training had drained him.
Seeing how hard his parents worked, Bolt had resolved to change his ways and train diligently.
But the monotonous, exhausting training still left the young man feeling miserable and stifled. And he had no one in his daily life to whom he could vent these feelings.
’Who could I talk to?’
Whenever he spoke to his parents, he saw nothing but high expectations in their eyes.
’Mills?’
’He’d just think I was being dramatic and pile on more training.’
Bolt knew, of course, that this was all part of growing up—the price he had to pay for good results, for a chance to change his destiny. But knowing that didn’t make the frustration go away.
And that’s when Chen Yu appeared.
Never in his life had Bolt met someone who could see right through him, who understood his every thought.
The struggles of his youth, his inner turmoil—Chen Yu seemed to know it all, and he always knew how to help ease the pressure.
In Bolt’s mind, Chen Yu was omnipotent, someone who could solve any problem he faced and point him in the right direction.
He saw Chen Yu as his best friend and the elder he respected most in the world.
He had trained so hard for so long, and everyone expected him to perform well. But more than anything, Bolt craved Chen Yu’s approval.
The official gestured, and the runners got ready.
Bolt took a deep breath and crouched down, settling into his starting blocks.
’Chen Yu didn’t make it.’ Bolt was disappointed, but he wouldn’t let it affect him. He had to give it his all and run a great time to live up to everyone’s expectations.
Just as he finished settling into his stance and looked up, a figure in his peripheral vision caught his eye.
There, in the stands by the track, stood Chen Yu. He must have just arrived; a suitcase was on the ground beside him.
He had probably spotted Bolt, as he was now waving in his direction.
Instantly, a sense of calm washed over Bolt. He gave a firm nod in Chen Yu’s direction, then lowered his head, ready.
BANG!
Bolt exploded from the blocks.
Within a few strides, he was upright, pumping his arms and breaking into a full sprint.
He was a black bolt of lightning, already closing the gap on the runner in lane five during the drive phase.
He overtook him on the bend.
By the time he came off the bend, he was already in the lead, a full two meters ahead of the runner he’d just passed.
He had, without a doubt, secured first place.
But it wasn’t over.
The 1.1 m/s headwind beat against his face. Bolt’s cheeks were puffed, his white teeth clenched in a rhythmic grimace. In his mind, one of Chen Yu’s refrains echoed over and over.
’The final stretch!’
Chen Yu always told him that his large, tall frame meant he had long legs. Once he hit his top speed, his stride length would be immense. That was his advantage: the final stretch.
But this was also where endurance and speed maintenance were tested. In fact, Chen Yu had spent a great deal of time and effort building up his stamina for this very reason.
Now, Bolt’s mind was blank. He let it all go, his limbs moving on pure instinct, as if programmed to operate at maximum speed.
In the stands, Chen Yu’s gaze was locked on Bolt.
As they came off the bend and into the final hundred meters, the other runners started to slow down. Bolt, however, just kept getting faster.
The gap widened.
Two meters, three meters...
Bolt was crushing the competition as he surged toward the finish line.
Chen Yu was silently timing the race in his head. As he watched Bolt close in on the finish, a wild thought suddenly struck him.
’This kid... he’s not actually going to break 20 seconds, is he?!’
Suddenly, Chen Yu had a strong feeling. At the speed Bolt was running, it looked like he could actually break the 20-second barrier.
’The kid is still a month shy of his 17th birthday! Breaking 20 seconds at his age... it would be completely unprecedented in history!’
The thought was as fleeting as the race itself; it had barely formed in Chen Yu’s mind before Bolt blazed across the finish line.
Chen Yu’s eyes immediately shot to the large screen at the side of the track.
The last runner crossed the finish line more than ten meters behind, and the 200m final was over.
The official time immediately flashed onto the screen.
Chen Yu’s eyes widened abruptly.
’My gut feeling was right.’
19.97!
Bolt had actually broken 20 seconds!
In that instant, it felt to Chen Yu like the sound in the entire stadium erupted into a chaotic roar.
Heads everywhere turned to stare at the time. In the athlete preparation area, Mills was jumping up and down in excitement.
In the stands behind him, a buzz of discussion rose from the crowd.
Down on the track, even Bolt, who had dropped to his knees after the race, wore a look of utter disbelief as he got back to his feet.
This result was far beyond his expectations.
Last year, his personal best in the 200m was only 20.58.
And now, only a year later—a year that included surgery and months of recovery—he had shattered his personal best, breaking the 20-second barrier in a single race.
Bolt knew he was at an age where his times should be improving rapidly, but shaving off 0.61 seconds at once was far beyond anything he had imagined.
’This is insane!’
Meanwhile, Mills was already running wildly toward him. He sprinted across the infield, reached Bolt, and pulled him into a fierce hug, slapping his back as tears of joy streamed down his face.
This wasn’t just a new record. He was truly the first in history to do this!
The handful of reporters at the event quickly swarmed Bolt, eager to capture the record-breaking moment.
Even the event organizers were alarmed.
They had to verify the record to ensure there were no issues.
Although the World Youth Championships wasn’t a high-profile event—this was only its third-ever competition—it was still a world-class meet sanctioned by World Athletics.
Therefore, the result had to be validated without any doubt.
The time was just that frightening.
He was still a month shy of his 17th birthday. Even at 17, he’d still be in the youth age group, below the junior (U20) category.
And yet he had just run a time that no one in the under-20 junior category had ever achieved: a sub-20-second 200m.
The first in history!
No one could have predicted that a historic, world-class time would be run at such a low-profile meet.
As a result, Bolt, who was desperate to celebrate with Chen Yu, was immediately whisked away for a drug test.
A urine test wasn’t enough; they needed a blood sample, too.
The time was so shocking they had no choice but to suspect him of doping.
It wasn’t until all the tests were done that Bolt finally saw Chen Yu.
"Nice work."
Chen Yu reached out and patted Bolt’s shoulder.
Bolt, however, shot to his feet and wrapped Chen Yu in a hug.
’He stinks!’
Chen Yu remained stoically silent.
After a long moment, Bolt finally let go, grinning from ear to ear. A thousand words seemed to be caught in his throat, and he didn’t know where to begin.
Nearby, Mills’s eyes were red with emotion. "Chen," he said, his voice thick, "I never imagined he could improve this much."
He ran 21.08 in the heats, 20.43 in the semis, and then smashed the 20-second barrier in the final.
He knew Bolt’s times would improve after coming to the United States to train with Chen Yu, but this leap was beyond exaggeration.
It completely upended his decades of experience regarding the scope of an athlete’s potential improvement.
Chen Yu sat down and looked at Bolt with a gratified smile. "Actually," he said, "I think it’s perfectly normal."
"Glenn, have you considered what the biggest difference is in Bolt between this year and last?"
Chen Yu asked a question.
Mills paused, momentarily confused by the question.
Chen Yu smiled. "Jamaica is a powerhouse in sprinting, and you’re one of its most famous coaches. So, the training methods Bolt received from you were already top-tier. His fundamental level of training was very high."
Mills nodded. It wasn’t a boast; he agreed with Chen Yu’s assessment.
"After he came to the United States, I used a lot of advanced scientific equipment to analyze and adjust his regimen. I even contacted Michael Johnson to give Usain some pointers. It’s safe to say he’s been exposed to the best training methods in the world."
If Jamaica’s track and field program is world-class, then the one in the United States is the best of the best.
"With the best training in the world, his times were bound to improve. He ran a 20.58 last year, so based on a normal progression, getting down to around 20.20 this year should have been no problem."
Mills nodded in complete agreement.
In fact, before the race, his goal for Bolt had also been to aim for the 20.20 mark.
And yet, Bolt had somehow managed to smash the 20-second barrier.
Chen Yu concluded, "But in my opinion, the single most critical factor that allowed him to break that barrier was the surgery. His physical defect was corrected."
"Put it this way: if he hadn’t been born with scoliosis, it’s possible that on his original trajectory, he would have broken 20 seconds at this age anyway. So, for him to run a time like this... it’s really not that surprising."
After all, Bolt’s freakishly long, 42-centimeter Achilles tendons were no joke.
It’s just that his congenital scoliosis was the final shackle God had placed on him.
And now, Chen Yu had unlocked it.
So now, he was destined to soar, to shatter every preconceived notion people had about human limits.
"Usain."
Chen Yu turned to Bolt and smiled. "I believe that one day, you will break the world record."
The 200m world record, set by Michael Johnson, was 19.32.
"But I also believe," Chen Yu continued, "that one day, you might even break 19 seconds."
Chen Yu had poured so much of his energy into Bolt. With the kid’s talent, breaking the world record was only a matter of time.
But Chen Yu believed Bolt was capable of more—he could break the very limits of human potential. For example, a sub-19-second 200-meter dash.

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