No rest for the best: for the chargers' LaDainian Tomlinson, being the top player in the NFL isn't enough. He's pushing himself hard to become the best ever

The stuff sits benignly on the grass. A rope ladder. A bungee cord. An orange power belt. A few cones. This is supposed to be a state-of-the-art workout, not a refuge for orphans from some fitness nut's yard sale. "Just you wait," says the thickly muscled man who unpacked all of it from a bag. He is grinning the grin of someone who knows a secret and is eager to reveal it. But it's easy for him to smile; he isn't about to embark on two nasty sessions from exercise hell, covering almost 2 hours. That task falls to his companion on this mildly hot June day in San Diego--and all you see on the face of LaDainian Tomlinson is serious anticipation.

It is eight weeks before training camp. There are no fans around to cheer, no teammates to offer support, no coaches to prod. The venue is plain vanilla, a public park. The silence of the morning gives way only occasionally to the intrusion of a passing car, the wail of a distant mower. This is the most famous athlete in San Diego, yet no one stops to watch, no one wonders why he is on these grounds, willing to turn his legs into a big puddle of mush.

He knows why.

Jerry Rice.

Walter Payton.

They, too, prodded themselves during offseasons, measuring their fortitude against constantly expanding limits of endurance and pain. They had talent but became something much greater and more memorable because of their willingness to develop their bodies beyond anything they realistically could imagine. They ran hills and trudged along sandy beaches and watched as peers accompanying them fell off to puke.

What if someone more gifted than Rice or Payton--the best player in the NFL today--attempts to exceed their level of determination? And what if, instead of hills and beaches, he relies on cutting-edge training techniques, computer measurements and a crew of specialists dedicated to honing virtually every aspect of his body? How extraordinary could he become? How high could he raise his performance?

"Twenty-two hundred."

The thickly muscled man calls out the number. Tomlinson says nothing. He is hopping very quickly on one foot, over and over, between rungs of the fully extended rope ladder, before turning and bouncing back on the other foot.

Twenty-two hundred yards--it is his goal this season, a goal that would obliterate Eric Dickerson's NFL rushing record of 2,105. And now that Emmitt Smith has retired, carrying with him the all-time career rushing yardage mark (18,355), why not aim to surpass that number, too? Certainly, no other contemporary has the combination of talent, potential career longevity and grit to better stalk Smith, Tomlinson's boyhood idol. At 26, after four seasons, he already has accumulated 5,899 rushing yards, almost one-third of the way to Smith's benchmark figure.

"He's a staggering talent," says Randy Mueller, the Dolphins' new general manager. "He has no weaknesses. And he has that extra gear to go 60 yards every time. But he's more than a runner. He is a great receiver, he's willing to go inside for extra yards, he'll pick up blitzes. He is the most complete back in the business. And he's not even close to his prime. But to catch Emmitt, he will need health, luck and good talent around him, which wasn't the case before last year. It'll be fun to watch."

The ladder drill ends. "We start off with low-intensity stuff," says Todd Durkin, the thickly muscled man, although the intensity already seems quite high. A former quarterback at William & Mary, Durkin has transformed himself into an elite personal trainer, selected the best in the country by his peers this year. Two years ago, after doing offseason workouts on his own, Tomlinson asked Durkin to make him better.

"How good do you want to be?"

"The best ever."

Durkin never allows his client to forget that goal. Or others Tomlinson constantly establishes. Tomlinson is obsessed with goals; they give reason to why he is alone with Durkin on this field, testing his willpower and mental discipline. Already wildly rich--he signed a new eight-year, $60 million deal with the Chargers last year--Tomlinson sees responsibilities amid the financial blessings. How unconscionable would it be for him to provide his bosses with anything less than a performance exceeding what he already has produced?

"When we were negotiating with LT, I told people that sometimes a guy gets a lot of money and you don't know what will happen," says Chargers coach Marty Schottenheimer. "But not with LT. He will be the same player, the best I have ever seen in my 40-plus years of following pro football. He has great, great personal pride in everything he does. You need to realize he is a unique individual, with a high sense of values and great loyalty. He feels if he isn't doing this extra work, he is letting someone down. Now, I'm not saying money isn't important to him. But it's not what drives him."

That personal pride has led to this: a trainer, nutritionist, two massage experts and a chiropractor, all focused on producing what Durkin calls "optimum performance." Only no one, not Durkin, not Tomlinson, knows what that optimum performance might be. That's the excitement behind all this arduous training: Where will it lead? "I am quicker, stronger, my core is better balanced and more in line," he says. 'I can feel it on the field. I know it is helping a lot."