I have never liked gym class. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I liked gym class up to 5th grade. But for the past 11 years I have never liked gym class. And there is a reason for that, a reason that extends beyond my less-than-stellar physical abilities (I’m not a lazy blob or anything but I never understood the point of running for fun). This reason was those damn, over-achieving, competitive freaks who took even an innocent game of kickball and turned it into a game of tackle kickball. Scoff if you wish, this was a real example.
In high school I was in what was called “Gumby” gym. Granted, this was not a school board designated title, but it was a generally accepted rule. Athletes took “advanced” gym and spent 40 minutes running uphill and stopping every so often to do 100 sit-ups or push-ups or squats. Ridiculous. Then there were the rest of us in Gumby gym. We spent 40 minutes standing in the goal box complaining about our periods while the other girls lazily kicked a soccer ball at the other end of the field.
This was my first encounter with one of the above-mentioned freaks. An athlete, a cheerleader to be exact, went rogue and joined the Gumby gym class. In the midst of a very non-competitive game of soccer a ball was kicked in my general direction. Then, like a blonde flash of lightning, she was upon me with the force of a Mac truck and the anger of a momma bear that senses her cubs may be in danger. It was too late for me. My leg was raised, poised to kick the ball, and I had no choice but to follow through. Unluckily for me, her leg was faster and stronger than mine and she kicked the ball into my foot, which caused a chain-reaction jamming affect from ankle up to knee. As my knee tripled in size my gym teacher offered that gem of “wisdom” that must be on page 1 of the gym teachers manual: walk it off. If I could stand, I would. And if it weren’t for the over-competitiveness of certain people, I could stand.
I’ve been smarter since then. I managed to make it all the way to my senior year of college without encountering too many more of her breed. Granted, I attribute that to the fact that since high school I haven’t taken any real intense gym classes. My first 1.5 Kines credits were spent whirling, twirling, and dipping in a ballroom dance class; no chance for a tackling there. But my time has run out and I’ve come face to face yet again with those freaks. And worse, they’re equipped with a racket and a ball that could probably knock me unconscious.
In case my description wasn’t clear enough, I’m taking racquetball. A sport that, when one lacks that whole “spatial awareness” thing, is a difficult sport to manage. Made even more difficult when faced with those damn, over-achieving, competitive freaks whipping a ball at my head at speeds that I must say rival that of sound. The guys in my class, most of them athletes or at least athletic, take pity on me. They understand that I suck. But they realize that I will continue to suck if I never touch the ball, which is a realistic scenario; I spent the first 3 classes getting shut out game after game. But there is one girl (notice a trend here?) who seems to have it in for me. She takes no pity on me. In fact, she plays harder against me than against any of the other people in our class. And no, this isn’t the paranoia of an athletically-challenged racket-wielding person; I have witnesses.
Now, it is people like crazy racket girl and steel-leg cheerleader that make me say this: CHILL THE F*#% OUT! It’s gym class. There is no need to be so intense. No one else is trying to rocket-launch balls across the room at warp speed. Relax. You’re better than the rest of us anyway, girl who can kick like a donkey on steroids. And let’s be honest here, you ruin it for the rest of us, those who like to actually be able to walk, rather than limp, out of a gym class. So why not just chill out, enjoy spending class time someplace other than Willard, and hit the showers.
I have never liked gym class. Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration. I liked gym class up to 5th grade. But for the past 11 years I have never liked gym class. And there is a reason for that, a reason that extends beyond my less-than-stellar physical abilities (I’m not a lazy blob or anything but I never understood the point of running for fun). This reason was those damn, over-achieving, competitive freaks who took even an innocent game of kickball and turned it into a game of tackle kickball. Scoff if you wish, this was a real example. 
