这篇ESSAY简单看来是作者在叙写自己克服人生每一个挑战，但仔细阅读却有更深层的意义和体会：凌晨3点开始学习，脚上起满了水泡仍坚持训练，疲劳到虚脱等等在文中的描写和体现；通过作者简单、独特的写作手法加上以时间顺序开始的写作方式向读者展示了生活里的“自己”。每一个角度、每一刻场景都聚焦在作者生活的强度、动力和重心上。但，作者全文想表达的不是自己有多么努力刻苦或自己在学习和运动中的付出有多少多大。
文章的关键点是在作者清晰的知道自己的不足：他没有局限在自己工作或成就上的“得”，不管是在训练场上还是在校报上，来吹嘘自己的献身精神；而是引用被汗水浸湿的衬衫来证明自己不能也不可以停下来。这已经最大强度的渲染了作者坚毅的性格。这篇文章不是记载人物轶事的回忆录而是作者前进的动力。全文最后一段更像是作者告诫自己的座右铭。很难不让人动容和信服。
—Esther Yi（招生官点评）
词汇/短语/句型 点析
hand: v.t. to deliver or pass with or as if with the hand
as thick as a balled-up fist 跟拳头一样厚的
moving the words around 敲击文字[形象生动]
cap off: finish or complete, as with some decisive action
e.g. He capped off the meeting with a radical proposal.
push sb to the limit 极限
drift off：to lose concentration
iron out：settle or put right
e.g. We need to iron out our disagreements.
There are(is/was/were) no...but...[There be句型]
It is(was)...that...[强调句]
ESSAY译文赏析
试想一下你抱着每本都像拳头一样厚的这样5、6本笔记走进房间，未来的6周你必须要与这些印刷装订纸张为伴，是什么感想？譬如：古希腊作家希罗多德[1]、历史学家修昔底德[2]、《被缚的普罗米修斯》的作者埃斯库罗斯[3]或有喜剧之父之称的阿里斯托芬[4]，对于连同我在内的16名来自全国各地的学生来说，他们是我们的引路人也是构建我们知识的奠基人。六月的房间里没有空调，没有电视，没有泳池，没有派对更没有美女像，夏令营当地居民的民族服饰就更不必说了。这里只有笔记本、书籍和我们彼此。
这里的“彼此”不同于整日和我玩耍的朋友们，他们和我一起见证了人生中最艰难的经历。他们是和我一起准备德克萨斯州学术能力项目的战友（Texas Academic Skills Program, TASP）。这里没有沙滩海屋，没有暑期打工也没有曲棍球阵营。这里一切都是全新的。但是，让我较为郁闷的一点即在这里所有的一切都需与众人达成共识。当我穿过校园要去学生中心观看全明星（MLB）对决的时候，我需先通过室内会议的决定；当我想要花一小笔费用给房间配置一套称重设备的时候，同样的经历再一次上演。记得有一次，母亲想来这边呆几个小时只为看看我，居然也经过了长时间的讨论。这里就像是一个竞技场，到处都充斥着斗争，而这种特质是催人振奋必不可少的。尽管有时候，我们也会动摇也会持不同看法。
2005年8月底
早上8点整：草坪场地上热烘烘的，而我训练的已是满头大汗了。来来回回的在起点终点中穿梭（一个来回大致240码，即219.456米）。每天像这样要训练11次，为了刷新教练的新纪录。经过一早上忙而累的训练后，12点45分我必须再回来进行又一轮的足球训练。
这就是我每天的生活：车道上练俯卧撑，躺在毯子上练仰卧起坐，这是一个绝佳的机会能与球队们一起练习。这样的训练无关乎时间或进球，事实上，我还没有能力进入主力阵容。但是，这个机会对我而言再珍惜不过了，它让我认清了一个人的极限。对于教练而言，这仅仅是一项短跑；在我看来，这种令人灼烧的感觉更像是一种信念：我做的事情是对的，我已经能够掌控自己的人生，我知道在恰当的时间做合适的事情：起点到终点的循环间隙短暂的休息。
2005年9月
傍晚训练结束：放松、洗澡、更衣快速的转换角色，穿过校园到达教学楼的顶层。凌晨3点开始长时间的阅读：这一刻我必须静下来，我没有时间也没有精力去思考关乎前一晚的一切。现在有一大堆的工作等着我来做，学校的期刊必须定稿。我清楚的知道一旦我开始投入工作，进行最后一版的校订，所有的疲劳都会随之散尽。
对于热爱的事情，人永远都不会感觉累或者疲惫，基于梦想是更加不可能的。我一直都坚信理想对每一个人皆是有启发性的，那是从内心深处迸发出的正能量，它会激发着我们的斗志将其变为现实，哪怕最终失败也绝不妥协。我努力的做好一名学生，做好一名短跑运动员。但到最后我坚信：这个世界上不缺乏更能跑的运动员，更睿智的名言供人阅读或是更戏剧性的故事题材。那么，我和其他的交集是什么呢？理想难道无法承载生命之重吗？难道我不能成为TASP里卓越的一名成员吗？难道我不能成为一名训练有素的短跑健将吗？难道我不能成为校报里的笔杆吗？这些疑问驱使着我不断奋进，每一个漫长的一天都看似那么短暂。而这样的斗志也将继续陪伴着我完成以后的学业。
释义：
1. 希罗多德（希腊语：ΗΡΟΔΟΤΟΣ），公元前5世纪（约前484年─前425年）的古希腊作家，他把旅行中的所闻所见，以及第一波斯帝国的历史纪录下来，著成《历史》（Ἱστορίαι）一书，成为西方文学史上第一部完整流传下来的散文作品。
2. 修昔底德（希腊文Θουκυδίδης 英文Thucydides,B.C.460或455～400或395年）古希腊历史学家，是在高度成熟了的希腊文化的熏陶下成长起来的；主要作品《伯罗奔尼撒战争史》。
3. 埃斯库罗斯（Αισχυλος） 公元前525年出生于希腊阿提卡的埃琉西斯。他是古希腊悲剧诗人，与索福克勒斯和欧里庇得斯一起被称为是古希腊最伟大的悲剧作家，有“悲剧之父”、“有强烈倾向的诗人”的美誉。代表作有《被缚的普罗米修斯》、《阿伽门农》、《善好者》(或称《复仇女神》) 等。
4. 阿里斯托芬（Aristophanes, 约前446年—前385年）古希腊早期喜剧代表作家，雅典公民，生于阿提卡的库达特奈昂，一生大部分时间在雅典度过，同哲学家苏格拉底、柏拉图有交往。相传写有四十四部喜剧，现存《阿卡奈人》、《骑士》、《和平》、《鸟》、《蛙》等十一部。
ESSAY原篇赏析
(29)CHRISTIAN FLOW—“HEADLINES, HERODOTUS . . . AND FULL-FIELD SPRINTS”
June 2005
Imagine walking into a house and being handed five or six texts, each as thick as a balled-up fist: the next six weeks of your life, in print and paper binding. Herodotus, Thucydides, Aeschylus, Aristophanes. For me and fifteen other students from around the country, these were to be the primary professors, the foundation upon which we would build our thoughts and our days. There were no air-conditioning units, no televisions, no pools or parties or pinups of teen-idols, or any of the other trappings of a residential summer camp. But in their place there were the texts, the notebooks, and each other.
It was the “each other” that may have been the most difficult part of the experience. My fellow “TASPers” were not like my friends at home, many of whom scoffed at my choice of plans before heading off to their beach houses and summer jobs and lacrosse camps. And in a way this was refreshing. But I soon became frustrated with the notion that I was constantly subject to the group’s approval. When I wanted to go to a student-center across campus to watch the MLB All-Star Game, the idea had first to be debated in a house-meeting. When I wanted to use a small amount of community money to purchase a set of weights for the house, a similar procedure ensued. On one occasion, my mother wanted to come visit me for a couple of hours, and even that had to be duly reported and discussed. Still, these are the struggles of existing in a community, the sort of trials upon which progress as a person is necessarily based. And though we sometimes clashed and disagreed, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Late August 2005
Eight o’clock in the morning and I was panting, my shirt already a sweaty mess, my heels host to a horde of blisters, as I labored end-line-to-end-line-and-back (some 240 yards) across a turf field that shimmered in the morning heat. Eleven times we did this: once for each of the league wins the coach was hoping to record. And that was just to cap off a morning practice: 12:45 and I’d be back out here again. Summer soccer workouts have a way of becoming an all-day affair.
This is what all my daily runs and pushups in the driveway and sit-ups on the rug amount to—an opportunity to get on the field and practice with the team. It isn’t about playing time or scoring goals, because in fact I’ve never been able to crack the starting lineup. But it is very much an occasion to push myself to the limit. To the coach, it looks like just another sprint, but to me the burning sensation, the soreness is a signal that I’m doing something right, that I’ve taken control of my life and am living out my moments the way I deem most fitting: end-line-to-end-line, limited rest in between.
September 2005
Soccer practice was over for the evening. I stretched, showered, changed, and walked across campus toward the Upper School building. I was tired. The day had begun at three in the morning with a particularly long reading that I had been unable to address before drifting off the night before. Now there was more homework to be done, but first the school newspaper had to be finalized. I was comforted by the knowledge that once I began working, moving the words around on the screen to iron out those last little flaws, all the fatigue would disappear.
There’s simply no time to be tired when you’re doing the things you love, especially when it’s impossible ever to feel established in any of those pursuits. I firmly believe that if ambition is to be edifying, it must center on the inherent and humbling realization that it will always fail to reach its end. I have tried to fill my days as a student, tried to live life like a full-field sprint. But in the end, there are always more sprints that could have been run, more wise words that could have been read, more stories that could have been reported. And what of my interactions with others? Can ambition not be brought to bear here as well? Could I not reach ceaselessly to be a better member of a community like TASP, a better teammate, a better editor to the newspaper staff? It is these sorts of questions that drive me, making the long days seem so short. And it is the motivation they create that I plan to carry with me as I continue my education.
COMMENTARY
It’s one thing to overcome a challenge, but it’s quite another to embrace it, to take advantage of it in a way that makes it an experience you desire more of. In this essay, the writer displays a peculiar knack for studying at odd hours, running until blisters appear on his feet, and tiring himself to the point of fatigue. With a simple, yet unique, chronological organization, the writer takes the reader through several snapshots of his life, all moments that capture his intensity, drive, and focus. But this is not merely an essay about how hard he works, or a declaration of his devotion to his studies and athletics.
The crux of the essay pivots upon the writer’s acknowledgment of his own insufficiencies. He does not rest comfortably upon the laurels of his work and his achievements, whether on the field or on the school newspaper, to trumpet the depth of his dedication; rather, he uses his vivid experiences of pouring sweat and sheer exhaustion as platforms upon which he cannot and will not rest. The already established intensity of the writer’s character makes his desire to exceed himself all the more notable—and all the more remarkable. This is not a retrospective essay that seeks to boast of accomplishments and past records; instead, this is an essay that forges a way forward for the writer. Indeed, the last paragraph reads like a convincing personal creed, a manifesto upon which the writer has committed himself. And it’s difficult to believe that he will ever let himself follow another.
—Esther Yi
