As I lethargically walked down Rugby Road to get to my first class in Wilson Hall, several people passed me at a sprinter-like pace. They had come to play, or powerwalk as it were. When I was starting to feel like the slowest-moving person on the earth, I passed some people walking at a snail's pace. I was stopped at the light at Rugby Road and University Avenue, which left me ample time to try to figure these people out. After giving these wannabe athletes the up-and-down, I decided their rush wasn't about being on time to class. I didn't think they were in a hurry to get to their next classes for intellectual stimulation.
I'm not sure why everyone else feels like they're in a rush to get to their next classroom. I understand if you have to sprint from Gilmer Hall to Wilson in the 10 minutes between class or maybe you slept in "just five more minutes" and now you're in a rush to make it before the professor starts his lecture - I'm the queen of sleeping in for "five more minutes." But I still can't figure out the rush. Like so many of the activities here, getting to class is a competition, and they want to be first.
Champions are made or broken on the seemingly-constant incline on Grounds. Those hours spent on the stairstepper are finally going to pay off when you pass three strollers up the marathon of stairs next to Wilson. Don't your calves just burn so good when you pass that obnoxious group taking up the entire sidewalk on Clark Mountain? Yeah, I bet they do.
If you're set on winning the imaginary race, I will provide you with a few tips. The first, and my personal favorite, is to distract your competitors - I mean peers - with your obnoxiously loud phone conservation. Although this method is susceptible to backfire as fellow walkers may be fascinated by your conversation and therefore inclined to keep up with you, it certainly is distracting, especially if your conversation is juicy. Yes, I too am offended that your roommate was that inconsiderate. No way, she slept with him again? Really?
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