名著阅读之心灵鸡汤精选 A Silver Braid
班级：____________学号：____________姓名：____________
一晚上心灵鸡汤精选A Silver Braid
话题归类 | 阅读难度 | 词数 |
难忘的经历（挑战自我） | 五星 | 949 |
| | | dnf公会怎么升级
【文章梗概】作者参加了一场大型竞走和慢跑比赛。我以往的半程马拉松成绩都超过了两小时，但这一年的目标是在两小时内。但由于最初跑在后面，且遇到了长达一英里的堵塞，我开始怀疑能否实现目标。但当我遇到一个有一条银色辫子的女选手后，情况改变了。最终我刷新了我的个人记录，并比我的预定目标快了8分钟。
You have a choice. You can throw in the towel, or you can u it to wipe the sweat off your face.
~Gatorade ad
What a mistake. Starting in the back of a large race with the walkers and joggers left me in a mile-long human traffic jam. Running through a wide green valley in the Ogden Half Marathon in Utah, I already felt a n of loss. And it was still only mile 1.
I started at the back of the pack to keep my nieces company. I thought I could work my way up to the two-hour pacer who was holding a bright orange sign. But at the end of the first mile, I was still stuck between joggers and walkers, trying to work my way through the crowd. The pacer had left me far behind.
The two-hour half marathon had been a goal I’d chad for years. Between giving birth to five children, I’d done lots of half marathons and gotten decent times: 2:05, 2:08, 2:02. But the elusive sub-two-hour evaded me.
This was my year to blow away that goal. I’d been training hard for that distance and that time. I’d done the speed work and gone overboard on long distance by training for the full
marathon. My goal time was within my grasp. This was my race. But in the back of my mind, I knew my time in the first few miles was critical. And that first mile wasn’t nearly fast enough.
To make up for the lost time, I would need to go faster than I had trained for the remaining 12 miles of the race — a rookie波司登男装 mistake I had learned not to repeat long ago. It’s a recipe for burnout and failure. Today, of all days, I did not want to fail.
During the cond mile, I finally worked my way out of the joggers in the back. I found a clear lane and plodded forward, determined to finish strong. Self-doubt gnawed at me as I saw the two-hour pacer dip我要找到朗朗 over a distant snow-capped hill. I wondered if I would ever e the pace group again.
That’s when a silvery braid bounced by me. Going a little faster than my current pace, a woman about my height and build strode away. Her tanned skin showed the flawsand wrinkles that years of endurance training bring. She was probably 20 years my nior. And there she was, stepping away from me in my race.
I wondered how long she had prepared for this event. Months? Years? This was clearly not her first half marathon. I felt it also wouldn’t be her last. I found mylf accelerating to match her even strides. I imagined reaching out to hold that braid like a guide rope. If I could hang on with her, I would finish strong.
Near the fourth mile, what felt like a miracle occurred. My silver-braided companion and I caught up to the two-hour pace group. I relaxed, happy to be with the right crowd. But she did not. She pasd through the two-hour group, 春字行书surgingsteadily ahead of them.
Something in my heart was still attached to her flowing braid. I followed her, knowing even if I slowed near the race’s end, the pacer was behind me and I could still make my goal. Coming down a craggy, rock-lined 杨昌鹏canyon, she ran even faster. I followed, drafting in her wake.
Miles blurred together, and the canyon leveled out to a broad river path winding toward the finish. Around mile 10, the increa in crowd support inspired me to pick up my pace. The disco music at the water stop really got me going. I caught a cond wind. Silver Brai
d was slowing. I pasd her as the music filled the air around us.
Mile 11, with the music behind me, I felt the sadness in my poor, tired legs. Glancing at my watch, I was thrilled to be far ahead of my projected training time. But I also felt the strain of the additional speed. I had 檐怎么读音outpaced my training. I was getting to the end of my endurance. My body hit a wall.
生姜煮可乐Silver Braid pasd me again. She gave me a thumbs-up and said something encouraging my exhausted mind didn’t process. Praising her steadiness, I fell in behind her. My focus was still on the end of her braid.
Mile 12 was the hardest mile. Knowing the finish line was clo, but feeling the aching strain of prolonged effort, I was tempted to walk. But just then, new inspiration found me. A college-age girl from the crowd started shouting and running ahead of us.
“Go, Ann! That’s my mom!” the girl shouted. “Keep it up, Ann!”
