By Kim Tong-hyung
Staff Reporter
At first glance, the most distinctive impression about Lee Elisa seems to be her lack of one.
Recognizable is not a word to describe the soft-spoken, unassuming 54-year-old, who talks and moves like a Sunday school teacher and would probably be one of the last persons on the planet to be presumed as a transcendent sports personality.
Yet, ask any athlete squeezing their last ounce of blood, sweat and tears at the Korea National Training Center, and they would assure you that Lee is noticed from the moment she enters the gym, observes their every move and leaves with words inspiring confidence or, more often, challenging them to push harder.
Record-breaking weightlifter Jang Mi-ran is repeatedly told she is ``nine kilograms short" of being considered a surefire candidate for the Olympic podium.
And Lee sent this text message to Park Tae-hwan, a 19-year-old swimming prodigy who is already ubiquitous in television commercials and magazine ads, when he broke Asian records in the men's freestyle 200 meters and 400 meters at the East Asian meet in Ulsan last month: ``Forget about your Ulsan record. Nobody remembers practice results.''
When Lee speaks, they listen. At least here, nobody confuses meekness with weakness.
The training center in northeastern Seoul is where around 400 of the country's elite athletes submit their bodies through sadistic training programs in their zeal for glory at the Beijing Summer Olympics in August.
And Lee, who became the facility's first female chief in 2005, doubles as a generous mentor and relentless taskmaster.
With the opening ceremony in Beijing less than 70 days away, Lee finds herself spending more time in the former role than the later one.
Considering the respect she commands from the athletes, a result of her athletic credibility as a table tennis legend and wealth of experience as a sports administrator, she doesn't need to holler to get the message across.
``This is the hardest time for them, as it's their last chance to push their bodies to the limit to test their stamina and polish their skills,'' Lee said in a recent interview with The Korea Times.
``The training center is a space where young men and women experience success, frustration and defeat dozens of times a day, every day," she said.
``My goal is to keep them motivated, keep them humble and hungry after achievements and pull them up when they are down. The challenge is to make them better athletes, who can determine a larger part of their fate through their own abilities."
Lee, who prefers calling the athletes at the training center ``kids,'' says coaches will ease their feet on the gas pedal in the coming months, with the focus shifting to conditioning and preparing for game-type situations.
In the Athens Olympics in 2004, South Korea finished ninth in the medal count with 30 ― nine gold, 12 silver and nine bronze medals.
Lee admits that making the top 10 in Beijing has become more difficult than four years ago, with the South Koreans overlapped with the Chinese hosts in many strength areas, such as gymnastics, swimming and weightlifting.
Particularly in key situations, Korean contenders would surely prefer avoiding their Chinese rivals, whose automatic status saved them from the grueling qualification process and are assured to be backed by a thunderous crowd that may produce a home-field advantage.
Still, the competitor in Lee can't fathom the thought of South Korea taking a step back in the medal haul under her watch.
Once again, the goal is a top-10 finish and Lee is predicting 10 gold medals for the South Koreans in Beijing.
Archery and taekwondo, traditionally called ``fields of gold" by South Koreans, are penciled for at least four gold medals combined, while Lee is expecting one or two from wrestling and judo.
Jang and Park are top contenders in their respective sports, while Kim Dae-eun and Yang Tae-young are also eyeing the podium in men's gymnastics.
In team competition, the Koreans are favored in women's handball and field hockey, and the men's field hockey squad could be the team to beat in this year's tournament.
``The goal of 10 gold medals is based on our most conservative outlook, although nothing is a given as we are competing against the world's top athletes," said Lee, who called the women's fencing team failing to qualify for the foil event her biggest shock.
``Some of our top athletes may fall, but at the same time, others may overachieve," she said. ``I think shooting, badminton, men's gymnastics and hockey could be our dark horse sports, where our kids could very much perform better than their reputations.''
With the Games getting closer, Lee is directing the coaches at each sport to simulate game-type situations for athletes.
The training center's practice grounds for archery were recently remolded after the Olympic venue in Beijing, which is unusual for having seats channeled in the direction of the targets.
The replica of the venue allows Korean archers to adjust to a situation where spectators could become more of a distraction, with the coaches shouting and stomping in the stands and turning on loud music to test the concentration of their pupils.
``In the end, it will be the kids who will be performing out there, and there is only so much we can do for them,'' said Lee.
``However, it's our job to put them in a position where they are most likely to succeed and perform up to their abilities. I want to be sure we are doing everything we can, and after that, I think I can live with the results no matter what.''

Lee first became a household name when she led the country's table tennis team to the top at the 1973 World Championships in Sarajevo as a 19-year-old.
That was just the beginning of Lee's storied career that saw her represent her country in three world championships and win seven straight domestic titles at a time when table tennis was just a notch below baseball and football in popularity.
Just as big as Lee's collection of hardware was her sense of pride. After North Korean authorities refused to allow South Koreans to play in the 1979 World Championships in Pyongyang, Lee announced her retirement from the game at the age of 25, choosing to step down when she was still at the top.
``I never regretted that decision," Lee said.
``I could still say that I rewrote the history of the sport in the country."
After retiring as a player, Lee coached the women's Olympic team from 1984-2004, winning a gold medal in Seoul in 1988 and adding a silver and a bronze in Athens.
Lee recalls her pupils Hyun Jung-hwa and Yang Young-ja winning the gold in the women's doubles in 1988 as her most emotional moment.
``I called Yoo Nam-kyu (who eventually won the gold in the men's singles) to practice against Hyun and Yang for about 20 minutes before the gold medal game, as I thought his left-handed drives were good for preparing against China's Jiao Zhimin," said Lee.
``After that, I held the hands of Hyun and Yang, we prayed and I said `lets leave the rest to God.' It was great to win in front of the home crowd.
``When we won in Sarajevo, I cried but that was just because my teammates did and I got swept in. The significance of the moment never sank in at that time.
``As a coach in 1988, it was a lot more emotional as you still have the enthusiasm and drive you had as a player but are more involved in the whole process of preparing players with a better appreciation of what it takes. The sense of accomplishment was a lot more profound."
Lee first entered the training center in 1969 as a teenage prospect. Compared to 40 years ago, the athletes of today are benefited by advanced medical knowledge and scientific approaches in training, Lee said.
``Nobody tells you to eat salt after matches anymore," said Lee.
However, Lee sounds more like a traditionalist when talking about practice.
``In sports, there are things you can control and things you can't, but athletes are required to produce without excuses," said Lee, who was notorious for her training methods during her playing days, which included the ``700 rally,'' or bouncing the feathery table tennis ball 700 times in a row on her racket in a single attempt.
``Only those who pay their dues through the painful and repeated process of training can develop a freedom against the variables," she said.

Preparing the country's athletes for Beijing will be Lee's last significant responsibility as the chief of the training center.
Since taking helm in 2005, Lee has been focused on upgrading facilities and lobbying for stronger government support.
The hardware has certainly improved, with a revamped dormitory for female athletes, better recreation facilities and a larger parking lot. And a larger budget now allows the training center to operate 180 days per year from just 100 days in 2005.
Still, Lee says the training center is not yet a worthy representative of a ``top-10 sporting nation."
``We still have a basketball gym that hasn't changed in 30 years," she said.
With the training center's athletes vowing for glory in Beijing, Lee will be seeking her own personal glory at the Games, although it will have less to do with grunts and sweat.
Lee is one of the Korean sports figures who are bidding to be elected as an International Olympic Committee (IOC) member. The new members are to be selected by an IOC general congress held during the Olympics in August.
World Taekwondo Federation (WTF) president Choue Chung-won is aiming to fill a spot saved for international federation leaders, while Lee will compete with other National Olympic Committee (NOC) representatives if she gets the nod from the Korean Olympic Committee (KOC).
Korean Football Association (KFA) boss Chung Mong-joon and World Badminton Federation (WBF) president Kang Young-joong are also reportedly interested in the IOC seats.
``Korean IOC members have been either politicians or business tycoons, who put their personal interests first and did little in representing the country rightfully in the sports community," said Lee, whose case got a boost earlier this year when 168 retired and active female athletes, many of them former Olympians, declared their support for her.
``We now need an IOC member with athletic credentials," she said. ``If I am not good enough, there still are a number of former athletes who could do a great job.''