Overpass Experiences

The Eric Wroolie Blog

  • Facebook
  • Google+
  • Linkedin
  • Twitter
  • YouTube
  • Blog
  • Social Activity
  • Videos
  • Overpass Apps

Powered by Overpass Apps

Man, I hated PE!

March 28, 2012 by wroolie 1 Comment

Image by Steve A Johnson

When I was kid, the subject I hated most in school was PE.  Even in the seventh grade, it seemed like a barbarous hour in the middle of the school day where they forced us to put on sweaty clothes and compete in team sports.  Some kids were so competitive that it made the whole exercise unbearable.

The competitiveness was encouraged by the teachers (we called them coach—even though they taught History too).

I didn’t mind PE when it involved a non-competitive sports.  I liked running and solo exercises.  But, I was an exception.  Everyone else wanted to play a team sport, so that’s mostly what we did.  I went to 3 different junior highs and 3 high schools.  All of them were the same.  We played basketball, softball, and soccer mostly.  Occasionally, we would play tennis.

Here’s a typical PE class.  Everyone gets dressed and heads out to the blacktop (tarmac) to form up (very Army like).  We do a few stretches.  Then, the coach announces that we will be playing basketball today.  He chooses the two best basketball players as captains.  They each take turns choosing the rest of the class for their team.  The good players go first.  I was frequently last.  In fact, there was another kid who was sometimes chosen after me, but not all the time.
Then, we’d play an awkward game of basketball.  I say awkward because I would never actually want the ball.  It’s not easy running around the court trying to look like you are involved and helping the team, but constantly putting yourself behind the person guarding you so you would never get the ball.  I run around and wait to be called in to shower.

Showering in junior high was weird too.  No one wanted to do it, but it was a requirement.  They used to have a shower monitor who would give you a rubber band at the showers when you proved you were wet enough.  You couldn’t leave the locker room unless you had one.  So, we all did this thing where we would get undressed, wrap a towel around our waists, stand next to a running shower and cup our hands to splash ourselves with water.  I’ve never seen anyone actually get into the shower or remove the towel. No one ever got clean—that wasn’t the goal.  We did this to get the rubber band and get out of their and back to our normal school day.

It’s not that I don’t like exercise.  In the Army, we did physical training nearly every day.  But we never did team sports.

I have this inexplicable ability to get hit in the face with any ball I play with.  I’ve had basketballs bounced off my face.  I have been hit in the face with baseballs.  I even once hit a tennis ball with the corner of my racket and had it fly into my face.  I’m glad we never had bowling at school.

These accidents wouldn’t be so bad if I just laughed them off like other kids would, but I was an awkward teenager.  I never laughed anything off.  While others laughed at me, I just kept going like nothing had happened.

PE probably wouldn’t have been so bad if there were only boys in our class.  I embarrassed myself in front of everyone, but I started to get interested in girls at this age.  I would have liked it more if I could have humiliated myself only in front of the boys.

I can remember playing softball in PE.  I always went to my normal position from Little League – right field.  No one ever hits the ball there, and if they did, so one expected a super-human catch like you see in the major leagues.  So, you were mostly safe.  Once, the ball was hit straight to me.  I couldn’t even move to get it.  I was a slow fly ball that was destined for the exact spot I was standing in.  I put up my glove and the ball landed in it.  Now, this wasn’t my glove— it was a borrowed glove form the PE department, and the webbing was gone between the thumb and fingers.  So, the ball fell from my glove to the ground.  I quickly picked it up and threw it into the infield (anywhere in the infield—-just away from me!).  I looked over at a girl who I fancied—-her name as Jackie.  She looked at me with disgust and said “You ass!”  This was the longest conversation I ever had with her.  I looked at the ground and pretended I didn’t hear.  It was a better tactic than thinking about how a normal person would respond.

In school, the kids who were good at team sports were the most popular, even with the teachers.  It’s amazing to think about how much better they were treated than the kids who were good at academics (I wasn’t one of these either).  High School was worse than junior high, because the everyone was interested in how the school football team was doing.  To be on the football team meant you were one of the leaders. You were like a member of congress.  You could leave the school on a bus to some other school in North County for a game and no one would care that you missed class.

All through school, the teachers and parents make it a point of telling you that you need to attend school to get ready for the real world.  I’m having this own conversation with my kids now.  Well, I’m in the real world now, and there is no way I would ever go back there.

Filed Under: Bumblings, Growing Up, My Life

My toe

June 21, 2010 by wroolie 2 Comments

About three weeks ago, I broke the little toe on my right foot while playing around with my kids.  I think it’s broken, anyway.  It turned purple and swelled to half its size.  I never bothered going to the doctor because common wisdom is there is nothing you can do about a broken toe.

Three weeks later it still hurts.  I try to let it heal, but I can’t protect it. 

All my life I’ve had a tendency to stub my toes on things.  Maybe it’s my California background that makes me think I should be able to handle bare-footed-ness better, but I should probably be required to wear shoes 24/7.  My tiny outer toes frequently snag on door frames.  My big toe always hits one of the bed posts in my room.

There is nothing cool about stubbing your toe.  It never happens to action heroes in the movies.  Even in the first Die Hard movie where Bruce Willis was barefoot through the whole movie—he stepped on glass and got bloody, but here never jabbed his toe into a door frame while knocking off all the bad guys.

The strange thing about stubbing your toe is that no one realizes you’ve done it.  One second, you’re walking and talking and the next second you’re limping very fast—making a sucking sound with your mouth—and swearing.  

Bruce Willis I am not.

Filed Under: Bumblings

Eric Wroolie: Gym Man

September 29, 2009 by wroolie 7 Comments

I’ve always hated going to the gym.  It’s not that I don’t like working out—I just prefer something like running.  Running is easy.  It’s solitary.  You can listen to music and not have to worry about being watched or criticized or anything.

Most of my experience with gyms goes back to my time in the Army.  Every post I was stationed at had a gym that soldiers could freely use in addition to our mandatory physical training.  I would occasionally go for periods of up to a week of regularly gym usage.

Arnold Schwarzenegger Color S-Africa
Creative Commons License photo credit: d_vdm

My memories of the gym are of bulky guys having lengthy conversations about their pecks, their lats, their gloots, whatever.  We shared the gym with soldiers from the infantry divisions.  As a linguist, it was a little unnerving (“Sure, they can kill a guy in a few seconds, but let’s see how quickly they can translate the People’s Daily.”). Just by standing in a gym, you were in danger of one these bulky, self-obsessed, guys tapping you on the should and saying “Spot me?”  So, not wanting to look like I didn’t know what I was doing, I would just grunt “Yeah, okay” and pray that the guys could actually bench press the amounts they were trying to lift.

I can remember working in one of the small controlled machines in the corner of the gym and listening to one guy spotting another on the bench press in the centre of the room—“Yeah Man!  You can do it!  Come on! Come On!  Yeah!  Yeah!”  My sarcasm made me want to mock them, but I wouldn’t dare.  However, if he had said “Eye of the Tiger, man!”, I would not have been able to control myself.

I pretty much stayed away from the gym after that.  I’ve run several 10ks, half-marathons, and marathons—but have stayed out of the gym.

As I get older, though, running is not enough to keep me fit.  I fear myself losing out to the obesity epidemic.  Either I have to exercise more or change my diet.  So, last week I joined the gym.

Joining the gym at 37 is not as easy as I thought it would be.  I wish I could have filled out an online form and just showed up at a time I thought it was empty.  Instead, I had to apply in person.  My big fear was that when I approached the reception desk at the local leisure centre and told them I wanted to join the gym, they would start laughing and say “I should think so!”  But, it was easy.

Once I filled in the paperwork, I had to book a meeting with a trainer to discuss my goals and set up a training plan.  I was nervous about this meeting.  I tried to think of a good answer to the question “So, what do you want to achieve by working out?”  I feel uncomfortable answering this question.  I don’t like bringing attention to areas of my body I’m unhappy with—especially to fit guy in his early twenties.  So my rehearsed answer was “You know, I want to do a little toning and work a little bit on upper body strength.”  But I really wanted to say “I want six-pack abs and I want people to gasp for the right reasons when I take my shirt off at the beach.” The answer I gave seemed to work and I am now set-up with a training plan.

The gym at the leisure centre is nothing like the gyms I used on Army bases.  So far, I’ve been going in the middle of the day and there seem to be mostly older people (older than myself) and no body builders.  I am now set-up with a direct-debit scheme that should keep me motivated to keep using it.  So far, so good.

Eye of the Tiger, man.  Eye of the Tiger!

Filed Under: Army Days, Bumblings, Growing Up Tagged With: Army Days, Gym

  • 1
  • 2
  • 3
  • 4
  • Next Page »

Recent Posts

  • Preferring to Be Alone
  • How to Kill Someone’s Dreams
  • Are any Puzzle Pieces Missing?
  • Software Development Skills like Currency – And the value is always falling
  • Delegating and Giving up Control

RSS From the Overpass Blog

  • Since Apple Business Manager, Enterprise Apps Are Difficult September 11, 2019
  • Connecting Students Through School Mobile Apps May 14, 2019
  • Can You Make Money with Business Apps? April 5, 2019
  • Is an iPad App Developer the same as an iPhone Developer? February 21, 2019
  • How Apple IOS Developers need to think differently February 13, 2019
  • The Do’s and Don’ts of Enterprise Mobile App Development February 11, 2019
  • Premier mobile app development company expanding its market reach February 1, 2019
  • Overpass Apps is making waves in iOS and Android designs in the UK January 30, 2019
  • Construction Apps From Top UK Construction Companies June 7, 2018
  • Infographic: Top 5 Apps with 1 Billion Downloads June 5, 2018

Tags

Anti-virus Army Days ASP.Net Automation Baseball Beijing BR China Chinglish coding Cornbury CSS DLI Eric Wroolie Family Gym Holiday HTML5 IE6 Line Break Misc. music MVC Framework Nike+ Overpass PNG PowerShell Redcloth Ruby Runkeeper scam Skype Spotify Superpreview Textile Transparency Webby Web Design Web Standards