Throughout the following week, in addition to her usual regimen of regular practice and stamina drills, Kitasan Black consistently attempted to learn the techniques behind a big escape from Silence Suzuka.
Yet, even without reminders, she clearly felt how difficult it was to master these techniques as effortlessly as her senpai.
She herself was a front-runner, well aware of how critical posture, balance, and explosive footwork were when leaving the gates.
Only by launching almost immediately into a full sprint at the start could one seize the lead early, laying a solid foundation to widen the gap later in the race.
Yet, the start Suzuka-senpai demonstrated wasn’t something most Uma Musume could replicate—
Not even those who specialized as front-runners.
To gain that split-second advantage right out of the gate, one needed not only perfect technique and posture, but also to prepare meticulously beforehand through warm-ups and adjustments, and above all, one needed tremendous explosive acceleration.
To further extend that lead later in the race, one would rely on natural shifts in body state, as well as making use of the track and even the presence of other racers—
Like leveraging slopes, curves, and the intensity of the atmosphere during the final stretch.
Even after months of practice and several official races, Kitasan clearly knew that every time she secured an early lead, it was purely through sheer, overwhelming strength.
Suzuka-senpai clearly didn’t have as much strength as herself, yet without extensive warm-up, she could still burst out of the gate significantly faster.
More importantly, she achieved this without relying on track conditions, opponents, or any other external factors.
So, how exactly can I enter that state from the very start…?
For several days, whether during training or resting, Kitasan often pondered this question.
Not only did she try to puzzle it out herself, but after each paired run, she would ask Silence Suzuka and Yasui Makoto as well.
Today, as training wrapped up and Kitasan raised the question again, Suzuka thought deeply for a moment before responding:
“I’m not very good with theoretical explanations, so Yasui-san would probably do better at that.”
She glanced pointedly at Yasui Makoto, who was busy sorting through data nearby, before continuing:
“But if it’s just about my condition…I guess I’ve always been a type of Uma Musume who finds it easier to accelerate to top speed.”
“Maybe I was always like this, ever since I was little. Back then, I never even thought about becoming an Uma Musume or anything—I just liked running freely.”
“Whether it was with friends or all by myself, as long as I could run without a care, I’d be really happy.”
“And actually, when I joined Tracen Academy…”
She suddenly paused.
In her view, her career as an active racer could be split into three stages.
When she’d first passed the selection and entered Tracen Academy, she’d been extremely happy, thinking she could finally run freely on a bigger stage.
Yet she quickly discovered that running to compete and running carefree as a child were utterly different things.
Training was often tedious and dull.
Take gate starts, for instance. Early on, she’d practiced them daily—entering the gate, waiting for the signal, then bursting out, over and over, sometimes for one or two hours at a stretch.
Other training tasks were similar. Though content might vary, the monotony and repetition never changed.
These drills inevitably translated into instructions on race days. Racing became less free—she was told to run this way or that way.
It wasn’t that the repetition itself made her weary—after all, no Uma Musume ever disliked running.
But gradually, she’d felt herself drifting further away from her initial goal—the original dream she had when entering Tracen.
Later, after winning some races, losing others, and eventually meeting a certain Trainer, she’d rediscovered her earliest joy.
She no longer worried about specific instructions—or rather, during her races from then on, there was only one instruction:
Run as fast as you want.
Not that she disregarded everything else—race techniques were things she drilled daily—but they no longer felt restrictive.
From then onward, every race she ran filled her with pure happiness.
Although an accident later occurred precisely due to this reckless running style, and she’d adjusted her approach after returning to the track, that feeling of running freely never disappeared.
She’d finally found her own racing style.
Thinking back inadvertently to these experiences, Suzuka recalled how initially she hadn’t supported the idea of Kitasan attempting a big escape.
Such a tactic was rare—not just because of inherent difficulties or because victory was so hard to secure, but also because it demanded special talent.
At first, she hadn’t been sure whether her junior, Kitasan Black, had such potential. Even now, she’d only partially confirmed it.
Thus, rather than merely teaching skills these past few days, she’d been trying to help Kitasan discover a running style truly suited for herself.
“In short, it was after experiencing a lot that I gradually turned my talent into usable race techniques.”
Returning quickly from her reminiscence, Silence Suzuka changed her tone:
“But your talent differs from mine. Even though I shared my experiences with you, that doesn’t mean you have to run exactly as I do.”
“And there’s no need to be anxious, either.”
“These past few days, Yasui-san and I discussed it a lot—I’m quite sure your starting speed has improved compared to before.”
“Really?”
Kitasan had been intently listening, and now excitement lit her face.
She glanced eagerly at Suzuka’s gentle smile, then turned to Yasui Makoto:
“Trainer, what about my actual performance…?”
“Well…the data supports that too.”
Having nearly finished sorting the information, Yasui raised his eyes from the tablet.
“Suzuka-san’s right. Even if you’ve grasped some of the big-escape techniques, in practical performance, you two are still very different.”
He turned the tablet screen toward her, pulling up a chart full of curves and sharp lines.
“Look here. These graphs show your recent gate starts compared to Suzuka-san’s.”
“Leaving everything else aside, let’s look at heart rate—Suzuka-san clearly reaches a high-frequency heart rate faster than you.”
“The higher your heart rate, the more efficient your energy conversion. That’s partly why she can accelerate to top speed so quickly.”
“Comparatively, you’re slower in that regard.”
“But it’s not an issue. Your mitochondrial efficiency—I mean, your innate energy conversion—is naturally quite high. In simpler terms, you already possess significantly greater physical strength, which can somewhat compensate for raw speed.”
After explaining it two ways, Yasui saw Kitasan thoughtfully nodding and suddenly chuckled.
“In other words, it’s a case of ‘great strength makes miracles,’ huh?”
Kitasan blinked, momentarily stunned, before shyly scratching her head.
“Yeah, compared to Suzuka-senpai, I really do… hehe… have a lot more strength.”
To the side, Suzuka and Rice Shower, who’d finished her supporting run earlier, both smiled softly. Afterward, Silence Suzuka turned toward Yasui.
“Kita-chan has indeed learned a few big-escape techniques, but… this probably wasn’t the main objective of your training plan, was it, Yasui-san?”
Seeing Yasui nod, she continued:
“After all, the Kikuka Sho ultimately tests endurance. There’s still over two months until then—Yasui-san, surely you aren’t planning to train this way until that race?”
“Of course not… Actually, I’ve already arranged a schedule accordingly.”
Yasui nodded, then looked slightly surprised.
“The St. Lite Kinen on September 21st—Kita’s next scheduled race is this trial race.”
“What, didn’t she tell you both?”
—
This is a fan translation of 赛马娘：从被撞飞十米开始 by 百升飞上天 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!
Reader discussion
0 Comments
Be the first reader to share a thought about this chapter.