IN AGONY

Physical Education was a required class all through junior high.  I had it every day and never really liked it.  It was bad enough that students were required to change from their school clothes into those ridiculous blue rompers and shower in gang showers, but for people like me who are a little athletically challenge, the class was agony.

P.E. instruction included softball, basketball, field hockey, tumbling, track and field events, tennis and probably several more that I can't remember.  I'm not uncoordinated, mind you.  But spending 45 minutes or so a day trying to keep up on a basketball court where most of the girls towered over me, or making my short legs run fast than they were designed to do, or often being one of the last to be picked for a team didn't do much for my self esteem. And then there was Miss McBride, the P.E. teacher.

Miss McBride was a small woman with long blonde hair that she always pulled back in a pony tail.  I can still see her in her P.E. teacher's white uniform with her long, heavy, pony tail hanging down all most to her waist.  I had her for P.E. every day for three years.  She was unrelenting in her demands that her students would happily participate in every aspect of P.E.  She didn't tolerate a student who complained or tried to just get by.  Unfortunately, I was one of those students.

Miss McBride and I seemed to lock horns on more than one occasion through out junior high.  She must have been pretty exasperated with me by ninth grade when after a display on reluctance on my part, she chastied me with "I don't understand your attitude.  Your sister, Linda, would never act this way.". Ouch. I zinged back at her with "I'm sorry to disappoint you. But, I'm not my sister.".  That kind of stopped Miss McBride in her tracks.  But I was never really in her good graces.

In high school, P.E. was still a required class.  I was not happy about that, but felt like I'd have a better experience with another P.E. teacher.  When I got my 10th grade schedule the first day of high school, my P.E. teacher was listed as Miss McBride.  What??  How could this be??  Miss McBride had transferred to my high school. Had she transferred just to make my P.E. life miserable? I was in for at least another year of P.E. class agony.

Some how I made it through the school year of P.E. with Miss McBride.  It wasn't too bad.  But I never really had any enthusiasm for P.E.