My Summer Training——皮皮作文网

Thomas Edison said, “Genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine perspiration.” Well, success is the same.

In the summer of 2014, I was chosen to be a member of the school track team. I should very proud of myself because there was only five people chosen in our class and about a total of twenty in the school. But instead, I felt very worried. The other four members in our class are all old members, while I am a newbie. It would be very hard for me and I have to get used to the training. And I was surely right.

Making friends was easy. With my cool personality, I was able to make a lot of friends. I tried hard to and slowly blended myself into the team. I wasn’t the slowest (that award went to the fat little boy in Fifth Grade), but definitely average. There were hard parts too.

It was foggy that day. We were all sleepy and panting from warming-up. There was a short break and our coach Mr. Leng said, “Now, I want you guys to climb the stairs. Go to the forth floor, run all the way to the north building and come down the stairs next to the blue glass windows. Fifteen rounds.” Fifteen rounds? Climbing stairs was a lot tiring than running on the tracks. And fifteen rounds? That had to be a few thousand meters, but we had no choice. So we straightened ourselves up, and sprinted into the building.

In the first round, we were all bursting with adrenaline and raced up the stairs. The second round, we were sweating but feeling fine. The third round, we were panting and slowed down. On the thirteenth time, we were walking. Some people tried to run but staggered. Others held on to the railing and kept a slow pace. Another group of people literally started crawling. My legs had turned into spaghetti and my lungs were on fire. Every step and every breath shot waves of agony crashing through my body. The pain was almost intolerable. My lungs were short for air. There were only two words in my brain: breathe oxygen, breathe oxygen. But I braced myself and staggered off with the others until there was only two rounds left… one round…and finally to the finishing line.

Drops of glistening perspiration flowed into my mouth as I gulped down water. Sweat doesn’t taste so good. It is salty and bitter, but it holds my hard work and my underlying persistence.