My dad and I had been looking forward to the Stale cross-country race of my senior year of high school, which would be the climax (顶点) of my existence.
I was the fastest runner on my team, and I was supposed to make it into the top fifteen. We had been working towards this race for three years. It was everything to me, and it was everything to my dad. He was a runner and was wild with joy by my success in running. He made it to every race, even flying home early from business trips to see me run. I always listened for his voice, which rang above the crowd-telling me to relax my arms, calling out my time. He pushed me. He cheered for me. He believed in me. We spent countless hours on the sandy canals of Arizona. Breathing in the dust of the desert, the blossoms of the orange trees, and the terrible smell of the dairy farm, we made our way across the city. We pounded miles and miles into our running shoes, marking with every step the path to greatness. It was a journey that was just ours. A dream passed on from one generation to the next.
Then the big day came. It was hotter than normal - too hot. My throat felt like a field of cotton, cracked with the summer heat, as I waited for the gun to fire. I gazed out at the crowd; dozens of familiar faces from church and school flickered across my view. They had come for me. They were counting on me. I saw my dad set his watch, worry and excitement etched across his face. With the sound of a gunshot, the race began.
For the first two and half miles, I felt great. I had never before been so ready for something. The weeks leading up to the race were filled with hard practices and a strict diet. The scorching sun beat upon my back, blinding me with its brilliance. Nothing was going to stop me, though.
注意：1. 所续写短文的词数应为150左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
However, without warning, my strength was running out.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________I whispered, “I’m so sorry I disappointed you, Dad.”
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________Thin, average, and undisciplined, I was the underdog of the boys’ basketball tryouts (选拔赛) in seventh grade. Making the team was very important to me. Although I was extremely nervous, I truly thought I would make the team. But I went in overly optimistic, and quickly faced a cruel reality check.
When on the court, I huffed and puffed like an old man on his last legs; clearly, I was out of shape and having trouble keeping up. When it hit me that this was only the first day, and that there was a second to follow, I realized I would have to step it up in order to gain a spot on the team.
Unfortunately, day two went exactly like day one: I missed shots, passed badly like an out-of-breath fool. Hoping the coach was not watching all my bad moves, I had trouble keeping a positive attitude. Finally, Coach-who at five-foot-four usually seemed small, posted the lists of the Boys A and B Teams. Everybody quickly ran to catch a glimpse of the chosen few.
After scanning the list once, twice, three times, my name was nowhere. Although I had predicted the disaster that had now settled on me, with my head hanging. I slowly walked to the car. This experience definitely had not gone as I planned.
On the way home, I complained “How could that foolish boy is a better choice than me? And…”
“Adam!” my mom cut me off. “Why don’t you realize maybe you need a little more practice? You’d better go to basketball camps next summer.”
Although I did not want to believe her, I knew it was true. Failing to make the team was nobody’s fault but mine. Right then and there, in the middle of my anger, I realized I had to get my act together.
注意：
1.续写词数应为150左右：
2.请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
Paragraph 1:
Then I threw myself into as many basketball opportunities as I could find.
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Paragraph 2:
When I took part in the eighth-grade basketball tryouts,I was moderate,swift and strong.
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