SPORTS MEMOIR

The Kid Bullied in Gym Class Gets His Revenge

I didn’t know I had it in me

When I moved to a new school in sixth grade I went from just average in sports to the joke of gym class. But little did I know that I had a lot more in me and I just needed a little inspiration to put in the effort. I would show them.

I wasn’t what you would call a jock. I enjoyed watching sports, the big four- football, baseball, basketball, and hockey as well as track, aquatics, and speed skating. I watched them all. I just wasn’t very good at playing any of them.

When I was a kid I was good at football. I was a pretty good running back and got the nickname George Reed, the greatest running back of all time in the Canadian Football League. I was a pretty good running back because I could run. I was fast but didn’t have much stamina.

The first time our junior high school gym class had to run a mile I thought I was going to die. Running a mile is not a problem for me now, but back then with puberty and my body’s changes every step was exhausting. When we got around the building, out of sight of the teacher my friends and I slowed to a walk. We didn’t have too long to catch our breath though before the teacher would get suspicious.

People made fun of me for how I looked when I was running. “Your butt sticks out too much.” Today that would be a sought-after bubble-butt although back then it was just a fat ass.

By the time I got to high school, the bullies had won and I stopped putting in any effort at sports. I hated being the slow one, the uncoordinated one. I was the one who was chosen, if not last, then almost last for any sports team.

My tenth-grade gym teacher was not a nice guy. At least to those of us who were not his shining stars of athletics. I often got the feeling that he resented me and the other non-jocks because he would have to waste his time with us when he’d rather be focussing all of his attention on his favorites.

Team sports were out of the question but I didn’t hate all of the individual events and I did try. I couldn’t swim so during those classes I would hang out in the shallow end of the pool thrashing around in the water trying to figure out what I was doing wrong until the water would go up my nose and I’d come up sputtering and choking.

I wasn’t terrible at track but I was so beaten down that I never gave it much effort. Just enough to get by and pass the class.

One warm spring day we headed out to the sports field to take part in various track and field events. I couldn’t high jump, long jump, or do the triple jump (AKA the hop, skip, and jump.) I had no spring in my step. I was going through the motions but anyone could see that I wasn’t into it.

Near the end of the class our gym teacher told us we would have to race around the track but this time there was one small change. “Darren is going to get a head start.” I was humiliated. Yeah I was slow but why did he have to make a point about it? And then came the punchline, “Everyone who passes him can head to the showers. Anyone who doesn’t will have to do 25 pushups.” Great. Now they had even more incentive to humiliate me.

But something clicked that day. I was pissed. I hated Mr. Baker. What a bully. I’ll show him. I decided right then I was going to run my ass off. I would try this time and hopefully there would be a couple of guys doing push-ups at the end of class.

We lined up on the track and I swallowed hard as I looked at the long track ahead of me. I focused and tried to block out everyone around me. Suddenly he yelled out “Go!” I started off slow and I could hear many of the other guys laughing as I ran. That made my blood boil. I was going to give it everything I had.

And just like that I hit my stride. That’s when I heard the starter pistol for the other runners to begin. As my feet met the gravel they felt lighter and my legs felt stronger than ever. I remembered every piece of advice I had heard over the years. I was actually picking up speed. As I rounded the last curve I suddenly realized that no one had passed me yet. I glanced behind me to make sure they were still there and this wasn’t some humiliating joke being played on me. I saw the jocks at the front of the pack, red-faced and running all out. No one wanted to do push-ups.

The last one-hundred meters was the toughest. I was now feeling the lactic acid burn in my legs but I knew what was at stake. My lungs were on fire with every breath. But I wasn’t going to let the pain stop me. I had something to prove.

Suddenly the three fastest guys in class caught up to me and as they dug in they glanced over at me with a look of surprise. Where did I suddenly get this speed? As I crossed the finish line I was ready to collapse. I looked over at the teacher who was holding his stopwatch high in the air and he had a huge smile on his face. Only three guys had passed me. The rest of the class would have to hit the turf for some push-ups.

I wasn’t sure what I was feeling. Okay I was a little nauseous and still struggled to breathe but I also had a feeling of pride. The three sports stars who passed me slapped me on my back and gave me some well-deserved kudos. Even as the other runners crossed the finish line they had surprised looks on their faces as they congratulated me. The teacher came over and said, “I knew you had it in you.” Did he really? Was he challenging me in hopes I would step it up? Or was he just as surprised as everyone else, including me, that I had just run faster than almost everyone else in the class?

There were no suggestions of me joining the track team or trying out for other sports. He let me bask in my glory and I was a sports hero for one brief shining moment.

Thanks for reading.

In the past several years I have challenged my body by trekking to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro, cycling across Vietnam and I’m now preparing to walk 280km along the Camino Portugues.