I’m about to earn my first F. The ugly mark is going to tarnish my transcript and lower my GPA. I’m genuinely worried about that. But I’m bothered more by something else: mandatory gym.
There are a few flaws tucked into the institutions of higher learning and mandatory gym is one of them.
In most cases, exposing students to a diverse range of topics is good. Everyone should learn a little science. Being comfortable with mathematics is valuable. And mastering English well enough to write a coherent essay is important. But not all compulsory classes are created equal.
I’m failing gym. Precisely how does one fail gym? A student can snag a good grade by showing up. And that’s exactly where I went wrong. I haven’t trudged to gym one time.
There hasn’t been a single occasion where I stretched before plunging into a weightlifting routine. And not once have I hoisted a dumbbell or strained to lift a set of weights.
There can be no last-minute salvaging with this class. No extra credit. And certainly no cramming for the final. I’m done. Sunk. I fail, and there’s nothing I can do about it. In a cathartic effort to ease my bitter feelings, I’d like to lament my loss by doing my favorite thing: (no, not whining, but you’re close) writing.
Let me explain why I never attended class. Weightlifting is a half semester course that started after fall break. Tumbling out of bed and trekking to the gym was not something I normally did. So, initially, I forgot I was enrolled. Two weeks into the class, I was in my apartment pouring a glass of milk when I glossed over my class schedule, which is pinned to my fridge.
I’m not a quitter (usually). So once I spotted the dreaded weightlifting class hiding amongst my other courses, I put down the milk carton and mentally pledged to start attending. I even started waking up earlier on Tuesdays and Thursdays to avoid being sluggish during the workout.
For some reason, though, I could never gather the courage to clomp to class. Awake and in motion, and often on campus, I never stepped into the gym.
I’m not an athlete. In fact, I’m probably whatever the opposite of an athlete is. I briefly played sports in high school and was never very good. Actually, I was quite the opposite of good. I was awful. I’m clumsy when catching a ball. I close my eyes when one dips in my direction. I run funny, and I’m not very fast. And I don’t know how to properly grip a tennis racket.
Absolutely devoid of any athletic ability, I embarrass easily when it comes to sports. Weightlifting seemed to be the one class without an element of performance. So I enrolled. Unfortunately, good intentions do not always produce good results. No matter how I looked at the situation, I could not eliminate the negative feelings I associate with gym. I invariably looked at attendance with trepidation and thus never went.
I eventually decided to drop the class, but I missed the deadline by 10 hours. So here I am, complaining to the readers who have inched their eyes this far down the page in an effort to feel better for sharing.
Before I go, there’s a train of thought some readers might be on that I’d like to tackle. It goes like this:
Gym is for your own good – It’s designed to promote a healthy lifestyle. Where do you get off thinking you should be exempt just because you feel uncomfortable attending?
The answer is easy: because I’m an adult. I’m here to grow intellectually. I am not training for sports. And I am not interested in lifting weights or playing tennis. Taking a course that has no relevant connection to my professional or intellectual life should be my decision. Gym class should not be required at the collegiate level.
I recognize the importance of physical fitness, but it’s something that can be done in an athletic club during personal time. Yes, in a perfect world, I would be comfortable in gym class. But in a perfect world, I wouldn’t be forced to go.