I was just thinking the other day about how being the Valedictorian–or even the Salutatorian–was as close as one gym class away for me. I hated gym class. Like so many others, I have stories about wheezing through the one-mile run, being picked last for every sport despite real skill in some, and dreading the mandatory swimming semester. OMG, I have to wear my swimming suit in front of those mean kids?

But as I thought about it, I realized gym class was the very reason that I didn’t quite make it to the head of my class. I did graduate #7 out of a class of 366, but #1-4 were the valedictorians and #5-6 were the salutatorians. Yep, I was that close. And gym class (and one *ahem* B in science) was the reason. To guarantee an A for the semester, we had to swim 10 full laps. It took me almost the entire class period, but you can sure as heck bet I eked out those 10 laps. I was retching and dying, but I did it. And somehow I ended up with a B anyway. It was one of those instances where I kick myself for not confronting the teacher about it. But alas, I took my B with my tail between my legs.

Funny thing is, now you would never guess I was that girl. Gym class can “bite me” now. I run at least three days a week, usually around 3 miles each. That one-miler has nothing on my now! I’ve completed a handful of 5ks and a Half Marathon. Take that mean gym teachers! I get a huge thrill from exercise, I have a huge crush on workout videos, I have a “gym” membership, I inhale every exercise magazine I can lay my hands on, and I secretly sometimes think about being a gym instructor. Take that, gym class!

It’s ironic how your body can turn around and do the complete opposite of what you ever thought it could do and that your reason for non-valedictorian-ism is now coughing up the dust you left in your running path.