Let's Get Physical

 Since you were asking, and you were asking weren't you? I got my job teaching PE in an even more unceremonious way than I began teaching computers to kids. 

Far from being my life's calling, I had always maintained a certain island-sized grudge against Physical Education. While it is true that I was one of those kids who might have benefitted most readily from an ongoing specialized series of courses to improve my mobility, stamina and flexibility, I was not predisposed to it. I was the bookish, round kid with no particular set of skills. I wasn't fast. I wasn't strong. I wasn't agile. I was good at reading. And math. It seemed to me that this whole PE business was just set out there in front of me as an obstacle to get past on my way to scholastic greatness. 

I would like to say that my elementary school gym teacher, as we called them back then, was not enamored of me from the start. I was stubborn and my fear of ridicule from my fellow students kept me from embracing the participation portion of my grade. Instead, I hung to the back of the group when it was time to choose up sides or volunteer to demonstrate dribbling a ball or skipping rope. I could say that he had favorites and I wasn't among them. I could also say that I never did anything to ingratiate myself to him, either. 

I endured. I lived through jump rope. I survived trampoline. I tolerated tumbling. And I waited with mounting anxiety for the time each year when we were compelled to climb that big rope hanging from the ceiling. This trope has been dragged out more times than any of you have an interest in rehashing, but let's just say that my pitiful attempts at inching up that thick, splintery cable that stretched from the floor to somewhere just below magic beanstalk height were like those you've already encountered. 

This being said, it came as a bit of s surprise when my principal asked now some number of years ago, if I could gather groups of our little darlings to take out onto the asphalt expanse we call a playground and engage them in organized Physical Education for fifty minutes at a time. I did this, with a series of fits and starts until I finally arrived at a group of activities that more or less matched state PE standards and did not cause them to hate me. I was now that guy with the whistle. I was putting them through the paces. I wanted to make sure that I could do everything I was asking them to do myself. 

And do I have favorites? Well, let's just say that I have a special place in my heart for the bookish ones who would rather not be there. I work especially hard to make their fifty minutes pass without being overwhelmed by fear. And since we're outside, there is no chance of them having to climb a big splintery rope.