Friday, October 22, 2010

Ask And

Recently I've written about a few things that were bothering me. Loneliness being one of them, and all of a sudden I have several plans. Maybe too many now. I went to yoga class this morning having achy muscles and stiffness. The teacher said that I might have an excess of energy which would cause me to feel like I don't have anywhere to channel it. Instead of running around like a maniac and creating fatigue I should try to enjoy more rest. She suggested that I buy some geranium oil and take a bath with it this afternoon. It seemed like a good idea but I baked a lasagna instead.

It's funny how I never put much value on exercise until after I quit smoking in my early 20s. Now despite a few injuries, I feel like I must do something everyday or I tense up all over. Even if it is just a short walk, my legs have to move.

I don't recall having this need when I was younger, in fact in high school I did the minimal amount of physical activity possible. This might have been because I thought gym was the dumbest thing ever. Those outfits? The obnoxious teachers? The gross guys in those shorts? Shudder.

In junior high I distinctly remember having to be in boy-girl-boy-girl rows for calisthenic type deals at the beginning of gym. I have always had a hyper-flexibility so it never occurred to me that it was weird just how far I could bend and reach. Is it any wonder then that the boy directly behind me in gym class started sending me notes? Came to my house with a flower? Called about a million times? Told everyone how much he liked me? Oh my god. And I had to keep on touching my toes and having my butt in the air right in front of him! How dare these gym teacher buffoons! How could they do that to me? Incidentally, that same guy eventually saw my boobs once in high school, which I deeply regret to this day.

When I was 14 I had a back injury from ballet and needed to see a chiropractor. This got me out of gym for my first two years of high school. It was a godsend, but I took it as my opportunity to become a lazy pot smoking blob. Once I was put back I got to choose an easier type gym for those with injuries and disabilities. I got to swim and play badminton nearly everyday and it was perfect! A few times I got to swim while on acid. It was such a beautiful time in my life! If they just added golf and a very limited amount of beach volleyball, it would have been the gym class of my dreams. But soon after that blissful semester, a new more evil athletic department head was hired. He decided I was just a lazy pothead that needed to take regular gym.

I did not take well to this. Of course, I ended up getting the meanest, most sexist, typical meathead asshole piece of shit gym teacher you could imagine. Coach Sokalski. Oh yes. I'm not even going to change his name here. He constantly made fun of me for being slow, chubby, weak, messy, un-lady like, etc. He made fun of the pink in my hair, the black and white striped tights under my shorts, and the fact that I could not climb a fucking rope to save my life. So what? Who the fuck wants to climb the rope in gym class so everyone can watch you struggle like an idiot??? Why do I have to run a mile in a certain time? What if I want to walk? I bet he couldn't do three rounds of pirouettes in toe shoes, mother fucker.

Ooooh. I hated him! Just thinking about him now is making my blood boil. The rebellious part of me kept coming up every time I was near the guy. He told me that he wanted to fail me for being an unhealthy disrespectful twit but he couldn't stand to see my face for another semester. The guy was a real piece of work.

I graduated high school a semester early and despite my time away, I desperately wished to run into Coach Sokalski just to tell him off. I had turned 18 and volunteered in an army base and a kibbutz in Israel, so I was feeling like a WOMAN. There was a day much later that year when I returned to the high school to pick up some paperwork, and my wish came true.

I saw him walking his gym class out to the track and I called him over to the fence. He actually came up to me so I put my hand through. We shook hands and I said, "Coach Sokalski, I just wanted you to know that you are the biggest fucking asshole I've ever met."

He squeezed my hand much tighter and said, "You take that back you little bitch."

"Oh. You're turning me on."

He turned and briskly walked away.

Regardless of the pettiness and how many times my good friends have heard this story, isn't it wonderful to think that we might get the chance to tell off one of the world's biggest assholes at least once?

Clearly his gym class didn't do anything for me but I'm into exercise now. It would be amazing if kids could pick what they wanted to do for gym. Maybe we'd all be a little healthier. Or tripping. Hmmm.

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