A trip to the sports meeting

The autumn wind in October, the excitement is passion and vitality, and the squirting is the unparalleled madness of youth!

When I stepped into the long-awaited venue that even said a little awesome, the heart was suddenly pulled, as if the cells of the whole body were activated and infiltrated. I first put my hands on my hips, my right foot and the roots lifted up, and my toes touched my feet and turned my own ankles. Just as I was eager to try, suddenly, my legs cramped. I slammed down, what! At such a critical time, I lost the chain. For this thousand and five hundred meters, I have started and sprinted countless times. The red runway carries me how much sweat, a red line, and records how many successes I have. Finally, the most crucial moment was ushered in, but... the sweat of the bean oozing from my forehead, I couldn’t wait to wipe it, but I saw that the gun was already on the iron plate. I stared at the finger that pulled the trigger. It was a pale, thin finger, as if it was so weak. The finger was tight, and my heart hung up. Suddenly, the finger slowly moved away. When I was wondering, the teacher with the gun was coming to me. I didn't realize that my crumpled forehead gradually spread out under the gaze of her gentle eyes. Her sweet voice seemed to blow into my heart like a spring breeze. "Is it still hurting?" "No...nothing." My head shook like a small rattle. Her mouth rose slightly, patted my shoulder with the thin little hand and spit out a few words "Come on!" My gaze returned to the command post with her figure, but I had already forgotten the pain. She nodded slightly to me. I hooked my mouth and glanced at the thin, pale fingers and turned to look straight ahead. A gunshot, blending her expectations with my emotions, transforming into an infinite power, swaying on this track full of our hard work and expectations... The hard running is only to see her gratifying at the end. Smile, and the thin little hands.

The good memories buried deep in the soul are the plunder of the years, and the time of the conquest is still imprinted in the depths of my mind. That thin little hand, that forever a glimpse... is my most precious memory.

Oilfield No. 2 Middle School: Lin Youxi