P.E. AKA Pathetic Exercise

I am a straight A student. 

Or I guess I should say I WAS a straight A student.

I know what your thinking: It was probably Honors English that broke the streak. Mr. Parker is known for being a teacher who even makes the Einsteins work for a grade. 

I should probably tell you now that I have a 95% in Mr. Parkers class.  

SO, WHAT CLASS COULD I POSSIBLY HAVE AN A- IN?

Two Letters: P and E. 

School ends in thirty days. Our State meet is in a few weeks. I only have a total of six vital vocabs. for this quarter. And the best of all, my sister comes home from college in less than two weeks! 

Playing Badminton in P.E.
(Photo Courtesy of The Cavitt Chronicle)

This all sounds pretty great right? So why is it that I still completely dread every other day of my life. 

Well, to begin with I don’t exactly appreciate being constantly told to spit out the gum that I am not even chewing. Mr. Torrey has the eyes of a hawk. He could spot gum chewing from a mile away. 

Speaking of miles, I run close to thirty of them every week. Mr. Torrey obviously does not realize this because I just received 10/15 on in class participation. THAT’S A D. Supposedly I need to put forth more effort. How am I supposed to break a sweat in P.E.? Not to mention, while playing badminton.

For the record, this is no grandiose and I am not being overdramatic. I have talked to plenty of other students who clearly express the same hate as me for P.E. 

I think this is mainly because we all have after school sports and we don’t need to waste our energy on 90 minutes of whacking a birdy across a three foot tall net. While, I might add, holding a germy and archaic racket that could easily cause me to come down with an incurable illness. 

So much better.
(Photo Courtesy of Mountain Home)

I have written this blog post three times. It is very difficult to bring out my inner kindness on a subject I feel so strongly about. I understand that P.E. is an imperative class in many cities because it requires kids to become active. However, we live in Park City, Utah. So why stay in a stinky gym for 90 minutes when you could embrace all the incredible things Park City has to offer in the great outdoors. 

I would much rather go smell the fresh air on a mountain biking trail than sit in the windowless gym of Treasure Mountain playing Badminton. 

For the record, that is coming from the girl who hates mountain biking with a passion. A strong passion.

P.S. I used three vital vocabulary words in this blog post. #proudmoment

"Very Superstitious, Writings on the Wall"

Superstitious (adj): Having or showing a belief in an excessively credulous faith in and reverence for supernatural beings.

There are an uncountable number of superstitions in the modern day world. Of course there is seeing a black cat on halloween. Or picking up your feet over railroad tracks. And my all time favorite, holding your breath as you pass a cemetery. I mean, we might as well all be granted bad luck because there is no way someone can hold their breath that long.

FACTOID: The average person cannot hold their breath for more than thirty seconds. 

Yeah, I looked it up. 

Beans are life.
(Photo Courtesy of MySnackShop)

Superstition Number 1: 

I sit here eating my green beans, delicately sliced avocado, gourmet chicken, and lightly buttered pasta with a sprinkle of parmesan. This is the exact same thing I eat before every track meet or cross country race. I didn’t even think I was superstitious! 

Superstition Number 2: 

During the fall we had to do a time trial to determine who would be running Varsity at our first cross country meet. The night before I decided to paint my nails this shiny light pink color. If I am being completely honest, at the time I just thought it would look good as my hands swung when I ran. From there on out I always painted my nails that same color, it was lucky!

Superstition Number 3: 

It was my second race of the season, not that it really mattered but I was wearing my hot pink sports bra and matching underwear. Actually I guess it did matter, and it always will. The whole entire race I was just seconds behind the leader. Then at the last second I sprinted to passed her. I’d like to say that right before my kick I looked down at my sports bra and it gave me the encouragement and the energy to run faster. But that didn’t happen. I just wear that sports bra every race simply because I believe when something good happens you must follow the same EXACT routine to make it happen again. #Superstitious.

Superstition Number 4: 

Cheesin' at Herriman because we finished without upchucking! 

This is the last of my superstitions and I have to give all the credit to mother dearest. I was loading the bus to head down to Herriman, the utterly most dreadful course to ever exist on this planet. If that was a hyperbole you would know because I never fail to remind you when I am using my literary devices. It’s no hyperbole, trust me. As I climbed up the stairs on the bus my mom sneaked a little pack of Sport Beans into my bag. She said they would just give me that final boost at Herriman. Even though I thought the beans were stupid I still decided to eat them. It was true the beans did help, actually they are probably the only thing that got me up Herriman’s insane hill. I would like to say that I am going to use them there again next year but I have already planned to be sick that day. I hate that hill with a passion and some magical beans will not ever change it. However, I still take the beans every meet, it’s even become a team joke. “Liza’s got to take her beans!”

Honestly, I don't necessarily believe in the whole superstitious thing but just like everyone else, I am to scared to see what happens if I don’t follow them. Except for those text messages that say if you don’t do something you will have bad luck for the rest of your life. I’m simply too good for those. 

The Not so Obvious Perks of Being Left Behind

If I lived in any other place, being the only one left in town over a school break would pretty much be awful. However, I live in Park City, UT and being the only one still in town over break is awesome. As my older sister is most likely sleeping and dreaming up a fantasy on the tropical island of Hawaii, I have fortunately been granted the wish of being left home. Alone. 

The endless line of cars on a school
morning.

Benefit #1: Escape From Traffic

The endless line of empty pavement
on a school break morning.

Over the recent years, as most of my followers know, Park City has been becoming overpopulated. Locals now have to give themselves and extra ten minutes just to get from Kimball Junction to Park Meadows due to traffic. I run into this in parking lots at the grocery store, on small neighborhood roads, and even at 6:45 am as I drive to school. The one and only time to escape traffic is over school breaks. I noticed the change this morning as I was driving to cross country practice and turned the bend into town expecting to see the usual morning traffic. Instead I was grateful to see the absence of bumper to bumper traffic. I can’t help but feel sorry for my best friend most likely stuck in a line of countless vehicles and unpleasant honks in Los Angelus, California. 

Benefit #2: Undisturbed Hikes

Because Park City is filled with active people, the numerous trails seem to overcrowded especially at this time of the year. Word spreads rapidly through this town about the opening of a new trail and the locals quickly head to see for themselves what the new trail will offer. I sometimes find it fun to run into different friends each time I go on a hike. Having said that, it is also very peaceful to go on a hike and not run into a single person the entire way. If you are one of the people who need these calming hikes then don’t plan any vacations over your next school break! Once all the UEAers leave, the trails are practically yours. I took advantage of this and went for a trail run yesterday. I didn’t see a single soul the entire way. Actually, I guess that was a lie because I did run into a moose!

Lost Prospector Trail. 

Benefit #3: I’m an Only Child

As I mentioned before, my older sister Nicole got invited to spend UEA break on the beautiful island of Oahu. I am obviously jealous so I don’t need to waste time trying to convince myself that her trip will be horrible. Instead, I have decided to spend my thoughts on creating reasons why being an only child is way more superior than any trip to any scorching hot and humid island in the middle of the Pacific ocean. Because I am only a freshmen, I clearly cannot drive, legally. But the absence of the other child has opened up a lot of free time for my parents. I pretty much look at them as chauffeurs at my beck and call. To add to that, my mom bakes when she is bored. Lets just say the cookie jar is completely full and is ready to be refilled at any point of time. I am totally jealous of actual only children because their lives must be like a dream.

I am not looking forward to Sunday and not just because it is the last day of break. Sunday is also the day that lines of vehicles form, trails are again occupied, and the life of an only child ends. If you are wondering I have already made arrangements for Nicole’s absence over Spring Break. Life is good as an only child in a lonely town.

One and Done

Supposedly Park City, UT has some of the greatest mountain biking on Earth. Or at least that's what my dad says who mountain bikes almost every day of the week. I, on the other hand, do not. I wish my first mountain bike ride had been in Park City so maybe I would’ve learned to enjoy it. Instead, I was forced to learn to mountain bike in a place called Fruita, CO. 

The middle of no where is actually kind of pretty!

Every year the Park City Ski Team goes on a camping trip. I was so pumped to hear what we would be doing this year; hiking in Canyon Lands, rafting on the Colorado river, discovering slot canyons in Escalante. So many incredible options, my head was reeling with the possibilities. The decision made by our coaches was to take us mountain biking in some random place called Fruita, Colorado. Once I heard the news I didn't have the slightest desire to go on this "team bonding" trip. I had never even been on a real mountain bike ride how could I possibly make it through three straight days. It sounded like pure torture. Of course my dad, "the professional mountain biker” wouldn't take no for an answer and insisted that I go. About a week later I found myself in a van full of fifteen kids on our way to Fruita, Colorado, a.k.a. the middle of nowhere. 

Don't look down!

I wish I had never woken up on Friday morning, if I hadn't maybe the idea of staying in my tent all day would have become an option. But of course that didn't happen, and of course I found myself mounting a bike I had never even used before, not to mention wearing clip pedals for the first time.  The thought of having my feet attached by a piece of metal to my pedal didn’t help matters. Can you say intimidating? They were bound to cause problems as my day went on. 

We pulled out of camp onto the dirt road which I struggled to find my balance on at first but after about twenty feet I was feeling pretty pro and wondering why I had felt so much anxiety for this moment in the first place. I thought to myself, “this ain’t so bad! I got this.” Almost immediately after this thought crossed my mind we pulled up to a trail head. What I had originally thought was the trail we would be riding was actually just the road to get to the dreaded trail. My confidence level practically shook the ground as it dropped.

I fell eleven different times that day and twenty-one times that trip, but who's counting? Obviously I was.

Before the trip to Fruita, my mom kept on saying one thing to try to convince me to go: "Liza, you cannot live in Park City and not know how to mountain bike." I will admit that this may have worked at the time, however I will not believe it for one second anymore. I attempted this so called sport once and that should be a good enough excuse not to try it again. I could spend my time doing plenty of other activities. 

Fun games beat mountain biking any day!

That is the wonderful thing about Park City, there are an endless amount of things to do. I feel as though I take full advantage of this benefit so I am not going to let sitting on an uncomfortable seat while hurling myself down a skinny dirt path filled with sharp rocks, elusive roots and most likely a hungry mountain lion lurking behind a bush kill my vibe to enjoy the great outdoors.