It would be fitting to make my last column a sob story or a final goodbye, but that’s what the senior issue is for. So, let’s end this last column with a laugh and a little bit of awkwardness along the way. 

During the first semester of my senior year, I woke up one night and realized I had not completed the required two semesters of gym class. Yes, it’s extremely random, but thinking about how much gym class has traumatized me in the past, it all makes sense. 

The next day, I emailed my counselor about it, and before I knew it, I was in the ketchup-colored gym shorts and a smelly, gray shirt. As I predicted, I was surrounded by sophomores. 

This was my nightmare come true, but it taught me a lot and provided me with hilarious memories that’ll cheer me up when I’m down. 

So, where should I start? I remember walking into the cold gym and going up to one of the teachers. I think he knew I was a senior by looking at the roster, and I was literally peeing my pants out of embarrassment. 

I sat down in my assigned seat while they took attendance. Everyone was staring at me, or at least I thought they were. It was probably the spotlight effect, which I learned about in psychology class, thanks Mr. Jones! 

Anyway, I already sound nerdy enough, so let’s continue on. During this time, the class was in their cornhole unit. So, everyone got up and scurried out the doors. One boy in particular was super eager to play, and that was Trevor St. Peter. 

When I first saw this boy, he had a distinct mullet and always found a way to join in on a conversation. He lightened the mood, to say the least. 

When he first talked to me, it was an awkward interaction, but now I see it as an attempted warm welcome. 

After that first class, I asked myself: “How am I going to make it through nine weeks of this?” The class seemed like it lasted an entire day, and getting changed in a hurry and rushing to my second period was horrible. 

I told myself that I need to make this experience enjoyable for my own sanity. Plus, it would make a great story to tell later on. 

The next class, I made more of an effort to talk to people. When we were warming up, I stood next to this girl named Savannah Shumaker. 

At first, I thought she was weird. I can’t really talk either because I’m very weird and I went through a dark Twenty One Pilots stage when I was younger. 

But soon, I got her to open up a little more. We started cracking jokes with each other and then became inseparable in gym class. 

Of course, there were many other friends that I made along the way, but Savannah was definitely the highlight. 

Before I knew it, I formed a little clique. Ok, it was definitely not a clique because we were not at all alike, but that’s what made it so special and fun. Consider it a squad? A friend group? 

They got me through the rest of the nine weeks. The dreadful Pacer tests and games of  ultimate frisbee were all worth it. Plus, I got an inside scoop into sophomore drama. OK, that’s so bad for me to say, but a little drama never hurts. 

Although this era in my life was awkwardly cringey and very strange, I’ve taken a lot away from it. 

I’ve truly embodied the phrase “make the best out of every situation.” It’s also taught me that people in general make life so much better, even those who you wouldn’t expect to. Who would’ve pictured a senior running laps with a sophomore in gym class? Not me. 

As much as I thought this would be a never ending nightmare, it’s become one of my core high school memories. So, a big shoutout to those in my sophomore gym class for making this the most memorable year yet.