7th Grade PE

My least favorite class in 7th grade was PE.  I was never very coordinated, so sports and I didn't mix too well.  Most of that year our PE class was held outside, playing softball, kickball, basketball, or volleyball, but once in a while we would have class in the weight room, exercising. 

One rainy day we were inside, learning how to do the hop-skip-and jump, what they call the triple jump now.  After watching the teacher demonstrate how to do the jump, each of us had to take a turn.  The weight room was large, but not that large. We started at one side of the room and ended up on the opposite side.  Stacked against the walls were mats, exercise equipment, and dumb bells, bars and weights. 

Since my last name began with a letter at the end of the alphabet it wasn't until the end of the hour before I got my turn to try the hop-skip-and jump.  Most of the other girls had already had their turn and were sitting around on the mats, visiting or napping.  A couple of girls were trying to lift the weights or dumb bells.  When it finally got to my turn I stepped up to the beginning mark, ran the required number of steps, then hopped, skipped, and jumped, right into the dumb bell that two girls were lifting at the same time.  My forehead smacked into the heavy weight with a sickening thud, and I fell backwards onto the floor.

The girls exclaimed loudly and dropped the weights.  The PE teacher rushed over to my side to help me up and see if I was OK.  The rest of the class gathered around, and I was so embarrassed!  It never occurred to me to be mad at the girls who'd been horsing around with the weights.  I just felt like a fool for not looking before I'd jumped.  My head felt like it was splitting open and a huge goose egg was already popping out on my forehead, but I told the teacher I was OK because I didn't want any more attention.  I think she made me put an ice pack on my head for the rest of the class period, but I wouldn't go to the nurse or lie down or anything.  PE was my last class of the day, anyway, and since it was raining mom came to pick me up so I didn't have to walk home, but my head sure did hurt the rest of the day.  That knot seemed to stay on my forehead for days and days, and when it finally went down I could still feel a little bump where it had been.  I think it's still there. 

It's funny, you know.  I've always thought it would be so cool to be the heroin in a book, to have something really dramatic happen to me and have everyone else fuss over me and think I was cool.  But when I finally got my moment in the spot light, I didn't want it.  Go figure.