February 20th.
Oxfordshire, UK.
When Julian stepped out of the taxi, he couldn’t help but look up at the building in front of him.
The Williams Racing Headquarters was much larger than he had imagined.
It wasn’t the gray and white industrial warehouse style of the MP base.
It was a highly modern silver gray building, with massive floor to ceiling glass walls reflecting the grayish white sky of Oxfordshire.
At the entrance of the campus stood a huge blue sign with the W shaped logo familiar to all F1 fans.
The only person accompanying Julian to Oxford was a staff member sent by Williams.
Sander hadn’t come along.
With the F2 season approaching, the MP team had a mountain of things to handle.
The staff member helped him unload his suitcase and handed him an access card and an apartment key.
“Mr.
Vowles is waiting for you in his office,” the staff member said.
“He told me to tell you to drop off your luggage first.
No rush.”
Julian nodded and dragged his suitcase into the campus.
February in Oxfordshire was even colder than the Netherlands.
The wind blew in from the direction of the River Thames, carrying a damp chill.
He pulled up the hood of his hoodie, shrank his neck, and walked at a slow pace, forming a sharp contrast with the engineers rushing around him.
The campus was huge, with at least seven or eight buildings, each connected by covered walkways.
It took Julian a while dragging his suitcase to find the apartment building.
It was a three story brick red building, slightly larger than the apartments at the MP base, with a few bare sycamore trees planted at the entrance.
His room was on the second floor, room 203.
Julian looked at the room number and couldn’t help but chuckle.
It was the same room number as the MP base.
The furnishings inside the apartment were a tier above the one in the Netherlands.
The kitchen had a full set of built in appliances.
The living room had a massive leather sofa.
The bed in the bedroom was already made with blue and white Williams logo bedsheets.
What Julian was most satisfied with was the desk in the bedroom.
The desktop was large enough to easily hold two computers.
If someone came to visit him in the future, they could sit together and play games.
He tossed his suitcase into the corner and collapsed onto the bed, staring at the ceiling in a daze.
New environment.
New team.
New season.
The F2 opener was in three weeks, but he was currently in Oxford, driving an F1 simulator.
It felt like playing a new game.
Before even clearing the low level dungeon, he was pulled into the loading screen of a high level dungeon.
A message from Toby.
“Made it to Oxford?
Do they have seafood burgers over there?”
Julian rolled over, lying on his stomach to type.
“Just arrived.
Haven’t eaten yet.
Don’t know what the cafeteria has.
Hope there are burgers.”
Toby replied instantly.
“You just signed with F1 and you’re still thinking about burgers?
Can you have some ambition?”
Julian thought for a moment and replied seriously.
“Burgers are really good.” This story is hosted at g.com.
Toby sent a string of ellipses, followed by a picture.
Julian opened it.
It was a screenshot of the trending list on X.
Number 19 clearly read “Julian Vance signs with Williams”.
“You’re trending, bro.
Half the comments are cursing you, half are praising you.
It’s almost a war zone in there.”
Julian took one look and closed the picture.
“Not looking at it.
Training starts tomorrow.”
“Training for what?”
“Everything.
Fitness, simulator, yoga, meditation.”
Toby sent a horrified meme.
“Yoga?
You?”
Julian chuckled and didn’t reply.
He put his phone on the nightstand, rolled over, and looked at the ceiling.
Actually, he didn’t know exactly how he was going to train for the next two weeks.
Vowles’ email only said Oxford had the best training facilities in the UK and they would create a complete training plan for him.
He didn’t know the specific content yet.
But it didn’t matter.
Ever since he was a kid, his life had been training, track, race.
Where he trained and what he trained didn’t make a difference to him.
As long as it didn’t rain.
Julian yawned and closed his eyes.
At eight o’clock in the evening, in the conference room at Williams Racing Headquarters.
James Vowles stood in front of the projection screen, giving an opening speech to the seven or eight people sitting in the room.
“Everyone, Julian starts training tomorrow.
I’ve made a schedule.”
A dense schedule popped up on the projection screen.
From seven in the morning to ten at night, every single hour was marked with a different color.
Physical training was red.
Simulator was blue.
Yoga and stretching were green.
Engineer debriefs were yellow.
Data study was gray.
Meditation was purple.
The entire table looked like a rainbow, but the expressions of everyone in the room were somewhat grave.
“Isn’t this too full?” David, the fitness trainer, spoke first.
He was a British man in his forties, bald, with a neck thicker than his thighs.
He had been at Williams for twelve years and had seen countless rookies.
“He’s only seventeen.
His body is still developing.
With this much training volume, I’m afraid he won’t be able to handle it.”
“I’ve seen his physical data from the MP base,” Vowles said.
“The fitness trainer’s evaluation was weak foundation but extremely strong recovery ability.
This two week sprint training isn’t the norm.
It’s just to get his body to adapt to the G forces of the car as quickly as possible, and to let him perform at his full strength in the official races.”
“There is another issue.” Helen Carter, the sports psychologist, raised her hand.
She was a woman in her fifties, with graying hair and a gentle but undeniable voice.
“You’ve scheduled meditation classes for him.
But I haven’t met him yet, and I don’t know if he’s suitable for this type of training.
Forcing them to sit there will only increase their anxiety.”
Vowles was silent for a few seconds.
“Then let’s try it first,” he said.
“If it’s not suitable, we’ll adjust.”
Dave suddenly asked, “Does he know about this plan himself?”
Vowles shook his head.
“He will find out tomorrow morning.”
The conference room fell silent for a moment.
David chuckled.
“I bet he’ll break down on the first day.”
Vowles also smiled, but didn’t say anything.
He looked down at the signing photo of Julian on his phone screen.
The teenager with messy hair, a slightly shy expression, and a crooked signature on the contract.
He had a premonition that this seemingly harmless kid would be much more resilient than everyone in this room imagined.
The next morning at six forty five.
Julian was in the middle of a dream.
In the dream, he was running the final lap on the Bahrain track, leading second place by a full twelve seconds.
The finish line was right ahead, and flags were waving in the stands.
Just as he was about to cross the line, a piercing alarm exploded in the apartment.
Julian suddenly thrust a hand out from under the covers, blindly groping on the nightstand, slapping it a few times before finally turning off the alarm.
He buried his face in the pillow and let out a muffled groan.
So sleepy.
Didn’t want to get up.
Two little voices started fighting in his head again.
One said to sleep for five more minutes.
The other said this wasn’t the first time he had woken up early and he needed to get up.
Ultimately, the latter won.
Julian slowly crawled out of bed, rubbed his eyes, and yawned.
He changed into his sportswear, washed up, and pushed open the apartment door.
The morning in Oxfordshire was even colder than the Netherlands.
A thin mist covered the entire campus, and the air carried the smell of damp earth.
The streetlights were still on, emitting a warm yellow halo that looked sleep inducing.
The fitness training room was in the basement of the headquarters main building.
When Julian pushed the door open, David was already waiting inside.
“Morning, Julian,” David gave a friendly smile.
“How did you sleep?”
“Not bad,” Julian greeted obediently.
“Just a bit sleepy.”
David laughed heartily, then handed Julian a printed schedule.
“This is the training plan for the next two weeks.
Take a look.”
Julian took it and looked down.
Then his expression froze.
7:00 AM to 8:00 AM: Strength training for neck, core, and upper body.
8:00 AM to 8:30 AM: Breakfast.
8:30 AM to 12:30 PM: Simulator training in the F1 car model.
12:30 PM to 1:00 PM: Lunch.
1:00 PM to 1:30 PM: Nap.
1:30 PM to 3:30 PM: Simulator training in the F1 car model, rotating different tracks.
3:30 PM to 4:30 PM: Aerobic endurance training.
4:30 PM to 5:30 PM: Alternating yoga and Pilates.