PE class

Ah, P.E. - Physical education or more infamously known as: insert something - the only class where you can fail at both fitness and dignity at the same time. It’s supposed to “build character,” but all it really builds is trauma, a mountain of twisted ankles, and the deep emotional bond between students who mutually agree that running laps is a hate crime.

The Warm-Up (aka: Public Humiliation):

It always starts the same way. The teacher blows the whistle like they’re summoning an army, and everyone groans in synchronized despair, dragging their feet on the floor as though the whistle had decided their fate. “Let’s start with a light jog,” they say, as if jogging in 30-degree heat while pretending not to die, is a classic morning routine. By lap two, someone’s limping, someone’s faking an asthma attack, and the rest of us are considering whether tripping and “accidentally” spraining an ankle would get us out of dodgeball. Of course, the teachers are just standing in the shade, maybe chatting with another teacher and seemingly oblivious to the students' pain.

Team Selection:

Team selection is basically a personality test you didn’t consent to. The athletic kids get picked first, obviously. What comes next either comes 3 ways (all equally terrible). First way: the teachers give you a random number, and somehow you end up with your worst mortal enemy or rarely your friends. Or, the teacher looks at you - the one holding a water bottle like a weapon - and sighs, “Fine, you’re with them.” And lastly, the worst, most terrible, terrifying way: Getting Picked. The awkwardness continue  Congratulations, you’ve just joined the team that treats every game like the Olympics but still somehow loses.

The Equipment of Pain:The dodgeballs? Weapons. The hockey sticks? Dangerous. The jump ropes? Need I say more. Combined? Instruments of chaos. 

A few students types:

1)There’s always that one overenthusiastic kid who turns friendly competition into gladiator combat, smacking people “accidentally.”

2) The person who glares at their teammates, even though they didn't contribute themselves.

3) The person who gets injured every game and comes to class looking like a fallen hero. Pretty sure they’ve seen the nurse’s office more times than their house.

But, if all of them are combined in one person? I just have one thing to say: Good luck. And at the end? Oh, sure - yeah, sure, tell that to my bruised ego and emotional damage.

The Grading System:

How do teachers even grade P.E.? Like, what’s the rubric? “Breathing too loud: minus two points”? “Didn’t catch the ball but looked determined: B+”? The whole system feels like a scam. I swear some teachers just spin a wheel, give everyone a random score and call it “assessment.” Obviously we have the snooty teachers who show favouritism more than the author’s mother. The students who are in the biased teacher (also known as ‘ew’) somehow 'coincidentally’ get a higher grade than anyone else without doing anything!

The Cool Down (aka: Existential Crisis):

Finally, when you’re half-dead on the gym floor, the teacher says, “Good work today! Remember, fitness is fun! See you next week!” Oh, really? Because my lungs are on fire, my stomach's trying to exit my oesophagus and I’ve lost all faith in humanity. (Not that the author ever had any) But sure, fun.

And finally for the cliche ending paired up with a cringe moral. At least we can all agree on one thing: P.E. stands for Pure Exhaustion.