Freshman Year was when I started formally exercising regularly. No matter where we ate, that and a youthful metabolism, brought me to levels of healthiness never seen before or since.
Aging is truly unfair. Now I have to walk/ bike an hour a day just to
maintain weight, while watching my diet closely. Thanks to my knees (and most of the
rest of me) running is no longer an option. Back then I could semi-regularly grab a bag of
kettle cooked barbecue chips on the way back from a stint on
the track and still be buff and slim.
Sadly,
my mental image held fast at “high school chunky” preventing me from confidently
talking to any college women. On the positive side, the joys of the passage of
time has allowed reality to come closer to merging with that image once again.
RPI
had six, half year, physical education requirements, in a vain effort to get
some toning of its geekly population. Four were complete electives, the other
two were mandatory at the start of school.
The
first requirement was called “aerobics.” This was a blatant case of false
advertising. It consisted of taking gangs of freshman out of our natural
habitats of labs, arcades and computer centers, and thrusting us into the
perimeter of the field outside the Armory. I have no idea why all colleges use "Armory" for "gym." There we ran laps, with no timing,
no goals, and no way of tracking progress. Twice a week- “Go run in a
rectangle” - in the hopes we didn’t latch on to the “freshman fifteen” in the
first two weeks of school.
The
second requirement was an absolute hoot.
RPI
felt, correctly, that swimming was a valuable life skill, and therefore all first
year students had to pass a basic swim test. If not it was mandatory to spend the “post aerobics” half
of the semester in a class learning to swim. The comedy was born of engineering students’ penchant for both overconfidence and laziness.
Folks
who don’t have to deal with male engineers on a daily basis would never imagine
just how many of the crowd made this interesting decision. Rather than accept
having to take the class, they figured they could bluff their way through the
test.
Let
it be known that the test was described to all of us as requiring swimming a
lap down the pool forwards, followed by a return backwards. Any stroke or
paddle was allowed, as long as we moved. The key element for those planning to
use their excellent fakery skills was:
the test began with us leaping into the
deep end.
In spite of a total inability to hold a straight line in a pool, my years of Lake experience made passing a breeze.
The
instructor and his assistants were fishing nerds off the bottom of the pool for
much of the session.
With
the first semester done, we could pick whatever classes we wanted. It was two
years before I’d consider regular running, but I signed up for beginning and
advanced weight training to fill the next semester. The reason for this can be
summed up in two-words:
American Gladiators.
The
show had just started and caught my attention on the teeny four-inch televisions in
some of our rooms. I have no idea why this late night bit of physical foolishness sent me to the weight room when no normal sport ever inspired me to get
in shape up to that point of my life. When I read articles about it, I saw I was at (or
close to) most contestant requirements, but I couldn’t do the initial screening number of pull-ups:
ten or twenty.
My other selection was
bowling. I come from a family of bowlers. Mom is still helping to run the
league connected to my grammar school, which she has been a member of since
those pre-fossil days. My sister, who lives in the same school district now, is also an officer of that league. Dad bowled on all kinds of work connected and other leagues, including the
Hub Lakes one with my Mom.
I
…
Did
not.
Being
related to the rest of them, I did find myself on alleys multiple times a year growing
up whether I wanted to or not. I had two particular idiosyncrasies.
A)
I would fall down at the line … often. This would coincide with my best throws
and highest point totals. My nephew seems to have inherited these genes.
B)
I would choose the heaviest feeling 16-pound ball I could find in the alley,
and hurl it with almost no curve but massive amounts of force. I didn’t always knock all
the pins down, but the ones that went down, stayed down, darn it.
I
didn’t bowl often enough to have an average worth tracking, but I usually
stayed in the 130-160 range.
Then
I took the RPI bowling class, taught by the basketball coach.
I
have not cracked 100 since completing that class.
2 comments:
I remember there being four required. I aerobics, swim test, juggling, beginning weights.
My swim test included treading water for a couple of minutes. A kid from my floor could barely do the lap. During the treading I put my hands over my head and challenged him to go feet only. For some reason he tried this and sank. I grabbed him and held him up for the rest of the time hoping they wouldn't notice. He passed!
Thanx for the reminder. Yes there was a treading water part. I forgot about that. i also didn't mention, while a lifelong excellent swimmer, I inherited my dad's lack of back stroke ability, and spent most of the "swim backwards" part underwater, making it a more difficult test.
There were 4 requirements outside of aerobics and swim at least for me, because I know I wouldn't have done "Gym electives."
Here's hoping you inspired that kid to learn to swim on his own.
thanx again!
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