Here, have a story about gym class.

I have about twenty minutes to write this post, but I don’t want to write anything if I’ve got nothing to write about! You guys deserve better than that. I want to stop this one-post-a-day thing, but I also don’t, because I’ve made it to APRIL.

When I was in elementary school, we used to have to do the “pacer” in gym class. I don’t know if this is a universal thing, but we would run back and forth in the gymnasium while elevator music played (it probably wasn’t really elevator music, but it’s been twelve years and that’s what it sounds like in my memory) while occasionally the robotic voice on the tape would call out how many minutes we’d been doing it. And I think you could do twenty minutes total, and I would usually get to sixteen or seventeen and I’d be dying and I’d think, “Oh my God, I need to stop.” You could stop whenever you wanted to (it wasn’t torture or anything) but you were encouraged to keep going as long as you could. I was also a masochistic little fifth grader with a streak of pride, so I’d make myself do the whole thing until I was basically crawling back and forth and sweating all over the gym floor.

The point of that story is that I’m probably going to keep making myself crawl across the metaphoric gym floor of this blog.

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5 thoughts on “Here, have a story about gym class.

  1. I was so close to posting “I don’t want to talk about it” and nothing more for today… But you’re doing so much better than me, and YOU’VE MADE IT TO APRIL. It will be pretty incredible to be able to read a year of your life if you stick with it.

    My equivalent of that gym thing was called “The Beep Test” (as daunting as the name suggests): scary P.E. teachers and the pressure to out-perform fellow students forced our little bodies to run back and forth with increasing speed until it felt like our limbs would fall off or someone had stabbed you with a javelin.

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