<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post5975061824326842208..comments</id><updated>2009-08-19T11:55:44.611-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Comments on Cranky Fitness: Gym Class Memories: Happy or Heinous?</title><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/feeds/5975061824326842208/comments/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Crabby McSlacker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12108791388350253344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>66</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-6337316187075541589</id><published>2009-08-19T11:55:44.611-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T11:55:44.611-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What dreadful memories this post has brought back!...</title><content type='html'>What dreadful memories this post has brought back! Being a shy, klutz does not help in gym class! I was lousy at all sports and still am! I far prefer individual sports, weights and swimming and although I am in no way a natural runner I enjoy the sense of accomplishment.&lt;br /&gt;However my one great gym memory: If I ended up at bat in softball everyone moved in (they knew if I managed a hit it would not go far) Most times I actually struck out, but on this one occasion a miracle occurred! I hit the ball, the pitcher (who had been making some pretty snarky comments) for some reason had turned and bent over - my one and only hit at bat smacked right into her bum! It was a thrilling moment in my sports career!</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/6337316187075541589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/6337316187075541589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1250697344611#c6337316187075541589' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-3995327210119629011</id><published>2009-03-17T17:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T17:21:00.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Absolutely hated and despised it. I loved it when ...</title><content type='html'>Absolutely hated and despised it. I loved it when I was really young, like first and second grade. Moved to a new place and found a whole found a whole new world of hell awaiting me. I was shy. Didn't know a soul. Since I was the new kid, I was picked last for everything. I couldn't kick the kick ball, couldn't hold a bat, couldn't understand tetherball, hated soccer. Then came Jr high and besides the wretched jock girls giving me hell, the coaches joined in and ridiculed me openly. They would note how uncoordinated I was in front of everyone. One particularly heinous wretch screamed at me during volleyball, then came into the dressing room when we were done, and kicked me in the back. She screamed into my face "SORRY!" I never wanted to go to gym again. Gymnastics were another form of torture. Every skinny coordinated girl could do it with grace. I swear I wallowed, waddled, awkwardly straddled, and looked about as graceful as a hippo in tutu. Funnily, I would give anything to go back to that girl I was who only thought she was fat and show her some love and kindness. I wasn't fat. I was just uncoordinated and afraid of what everyone would think. Yeah... how about it made me so afraid of going to gyms ever again that I'm now morbidly obese and struggling to lose all the years of cramming all those bad feelings down my throat. Bullies and insane gym teachers should be given a special place in hell for what they do to kids. Wish I could be there to see all the Karma come right back around to bite them in the butt.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/3995327210119629011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/3995327210119629011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1237324860000#c3995327210119629011' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-4908865985612127864</id><published>2008-12-31T03:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T03:14:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Were mandatory showers in gym class common in high...</title><content type='html'>Were mandatory showers in gym class common in high schools in the 1980's? We did have to shower at my school, and I'm just currious if most schools were requiring it at that time?</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/4908865985612127864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/4908865985612127864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1230711240000#c4908865985612127864' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-7715736559802715805</id><published>2008-07-23T22:56:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T22:56:00.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I thought you might enjoy reading the article at t...</title><content type='html'>I thought you might enjoy reading the article at the website...&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;http://www.utne.com/2005-03-01/bathing-beauties.aspx&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Please let me know your opinions on the article. I think every teen girl and even adult woman should read this wonderful article.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Annette T</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/7715736559802715805'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/7715736559802715805'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1216868160000#c7715736559802715805' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-8632922363824396008</id><published>2008-03-16T21:59:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T21:59:00.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Thank you Crabby and Chessiakelley.A few of my gir...</title><content type='html'>Thank you Crabby and Chessiakelley.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;A few of my girlfriends are at polar opposites of how they viewed the mandatory showers in school. One said that she hated it and wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy and two of them said that they would have never dreamed of not having showered after gym class and would have felt gross all day long if they weren't able to have showered. If I had to guess, I think I probably would have kind of felt like Chessiakelley? It probably would have seemed strange at first, but I probably could have gotten used to it.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Oh, and Chessiakelley, my friend who hated showering in school also complained that one of her gym teachers would stare at them in the showers, so your class wasn't alone in that feeling it would seem.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Jessica</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/8632922363824396008'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/8632922363824396008'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1205719140000#c8632922363824396008' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-4405001233707783742</id><published>2008-03-16T12:51:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T12:51:00.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I was made to shower in middle school, however if ...</title><content type='html'>I was made to shower in middle school, however if you had your 'period' that particular week you didn't have to, and some of the girls always did.  Ha.  However, I thought it was really weird at first, being the first time any of us really saw another person naked, but I got used to it after about a year.  I was also an athlete so was also sometimes volunteering to shower after a morning practice or something.  Since everyone had to do it, it wasn't constricted to the 'popular hot girls', and it would definitely be too embarrassing for a 7th or 8th grader to make fun of another while in the buff.  We pretty much just got it over with with little discussion, but many pokes of fun at the gym teacher who we all assumed was a lesbian if she was making us shower.  very mature.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/4405001233707783742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/4405001233707783742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1205686260000#c4405001233707783742' title=''/><author><name>chessiakelley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305506369827222256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-8283822435075566986</id><published>2008-03-16T11:46:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T11:46:00.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Good question Jessica--We weren't made to at our s...</title><content type='html'>Good question Jessica--&lt;BR/&gt;We weren't made to at our school; only the really popular confident girls did regularly and many of the rest of us just went around sweaty most of the time.  But I don't know what's typical.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/8283822435075566986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/8283822435075566986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1205682360000#c8283822435075566986' title=''/><author><name>Crabby McSlacker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12108791388350253344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17138157196049443828'/></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-7158867671076138562</id><published>2008-03-16T04:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-03-16T04:52:00.000-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I see that a couple of people mentioned hating the...</title><content type='html'>I see that a couple of people mentioned hating the locker rooms. When I went to school we were never made to shower after gym classes. I'm curious as to whether or not most people who had to shower in school found it embarrassing or not. I have friends who have said that they had to shower in school, some of them said it didn't bother them, and some said it did bother them. I guess the idea of having been made to shower in school is so foreign to me that I honestly don't know how I would have felt back then? I think I could deal with it now as an adult if I had to, but I really don't know how I would have reacted back then?&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Jessica</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/7158867671076138562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/7158867671076138562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1205657520000#c7158867671076138562' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-2011321146123315129</id><published>2008-01-21T19:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T19:57:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't have good or bad memories about PE. I do k...</title><content type='html'>I don't have good or bad memories about PE. I do know that I hate bowling and softball because I was forced to play in church leagues for both, and I find them extremely boring and a waste of time. The one sport I did like was volleyball, but when I got to high school, tryouts were awful because all the girls were super mean about it. I had a really hard time in elementary school because I had exercise &amp; stress induced asthma. I could never be the fastest at anything because I'd have to stop and use my inhaler, which made me all shaky and useless for 30 minutes. My school was so small that we ALL had to participate in basketball, volleyball and the track meet or else we wouldn't have a team. It was okay because I got to hang out with my friends and we were all on the same team, but we sucked. It's annoying going to a game knowing that you're going to lose. I did okay at the long jump at track meets because usually there were only three or four other competitors, so it was easy to place in the top five. The one thing that pisses me off to this day is that I wasn't allowed to do the shot put because I was a girl. It was the one thing that wouldn't give me an asthma attack, and they decided to be f'ing sexists about it (despite me CONSTANTLY reaming the principal over the unfairness of the situation). &lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;However, I'm still proud that despite asthma, I was able to complete the one-mile race at the track meet. I came in second to last, but I did it. &lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Last summer, I ran my first 10K.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;But I still hate bowling and softball.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/2011321146123315129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/2011321146123315129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200963420000#c2011321146123315129' title=''/><author><name>elaine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05382422409262796740</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-1990342060492232047</id><published>2008-01-19T13:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T13:31:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I did do sports also, but that isnt actually part ...</title><content type='html'>I did do sports also, but that isnt actually part of school... so during gym i could actually show the other kids that i could actually do something...</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/1990342060492232047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/1990342060492232047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200767460000#c1990342060492232047' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-4862923231246319253</id><published>2008-01-18T10:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-18T10:54:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I was alerted by Dr. J that the subject was gym cl...</title><content type='html'>I was alerted by Dr. J that the subject was gym class. At first I wasn't going to respond.The more I thought about it I realized &lt;BR/&gt;that it might be interesting to find out if anyone else had the same experience we had in high school. Recently a few Evanston Township &lt;BR/&gt;high school (Chicago) alums were talking about a strange thing that happened in boys' gym class. At the time (late 60's)we never even &lt;BR/&gt;thought about it. Back then nobody questioned authority. So when we were told that when in swim class there would be no bathing &lt;BR/&gt;suits,we all went along with the program. Fast forward 40 + years to the present and we hear about all the perverts in society. &lt;BR/&gt;We all just wondered what the heck were they up to?</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/4862923231246319253'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/4862923231246319253'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200671640000#c4862923231246319253' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-202301468105713151</id><published>2008-01-17T23:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T23:32:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More awful but inspiring stories!  I love the way ...</title><content type='html'>More awful but inspiring stories!  I love the way almost all of these have ultimately happy endings as you all figured out great ways to be fit without the torture. Thank you guys so much!</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/202301468105713151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/202301468105713151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200630720000#c202301468105713151' title=''/><author><name>Crabby McSlacker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12108791388350253344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17138157196049443828'/></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-212478344081508608</id><published>2008-01-17T23:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T23:03:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Great post, Crabby, but I hated it. Gym class, tha...</title><content type='html'>Great post, Crabby, but I hated it. Gym class, that is. I was fat, pasty, hairy (let's just say my uncoordinated-ness didn't magically stop when a razor was in my hand), wearing the least trendy clothes, and most likely to smell and feel dreadful for the rest of the perfectly normal day.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Now I run. I lift weights. I walk everywhere, do yoga when time permits, and pride myself on being able to kick high-school-athlete butt.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;But, God, I never would have predicted this. Never. If "being fit" required mandatory volleyball (aaahhh! My glasses!), rope climbing (um, no? My arms? Are weak?), and team sports conducted with little training on how to play, I'd be on the way to a coronary, as my fifth-grade PE teacher predicted.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/212478344081508608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/212478344081508608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200628980000#c212478344081508608' title=''/><author><name>newbie commenter</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-743292607537872621</id><published>2008-01-17T10:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T10:52:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why didn't you join a sport?  Don't you think that...</title><content type='html'>Why didn't you join a sport?  Don't you think that would have been a great way to express your love of competition?</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/743292607537872621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/743292607537872621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200585120000#c743292607537872621' title=''/><author><name>chessiakelley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16305506369827222256</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-674156234830773546</id><published>2008-01-17T10:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T10:40:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When I was in high school I wasnt the most popular...</title><content type='html'>When I was in high school I wasnt the most popular or pretty girl, and I was pretty shy.  But I loved gym class, because I was good at sports and that was one of the only times I felt like I actually fit in.  I know this is the opposit of what most people here experienced, but for some people like me competition and team sports in gym class actually made high school better!</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/674156234830773546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/674156234830773546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200584400000#c674156234830773546' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-3183543639833113266</id><published>2008-01-17T09:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T09:50:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah, gym class pretty much sucked for me too for ...</title><content type='html'>Yeah, gym class pretty much sucked for me too for all those slow-fat-uncoordinated reasons but I do remember having a SCARY gym coach...he was actually fired for throwing a clip board at a student!! He would always roll around the gym in an office chair (which he also threw at the wall on one occasion.) I guess pissing him off and seeing his reaction made gym class not soooooo dreadful.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/3183543639833113266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/3183543639833113266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200581400000#c3183543639833113266' title=''/><author><name>Emily</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14989528656890002126</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-3585157934069101578</id><published>2008-01-17T09:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T09:47:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another hypothyroid teenager here. We had only one...</title><content type='html'>Another hypothyroid teenager here. We had only one year of required gym in high school, and I hated it. I grew up despising competitiveness in all fields, not just sports. In elementary school I rotated with two other girls being picked last for kickball and softball, but I never minded that--I knew I wasn't any good at them and I didn't want to be. I got some mild enjoyment from playing. I was never picked on, or teased for being bad at games, not even in gym class which was over a hundred girls, hardly any of them known to me. It was just excruciatingly boring. &lt;BR/&gt;It was the year after gym class that my hypothyroidism was diagnosed--I think it was probably developing over the past three years. I remember in health class that year, we all took our pulse rates,  and most people were around 70, and mine was 50, and then we did a few minutes of jumping jacks, and most of the class went up between 100 and 120, and I went up to 55. Didn't think anything of it at the time, but I used to run up  the stairs so that by the time I ran out of breath I'd be on the level and could just pant without making much effort.&lt;BR/&gt;The children I played with were all active. We ran around the neighborhood, we rode bikes, we roller skated, we had tree-climbing races, we jumped rope. We just all hated team sports. The thing about gym class was, it made individual sports just as boring.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Mary Anne in Kentucky</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/3585157934069101578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/3585157934069101578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200581220000#c3585157934069101578' title=''/><author><name>Anonymous</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-4216133988334004380</id><published>2008-01-17T09:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T09:30:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, I find these stories so amazing and moving--t...</title><content type='html'>Wow, I find these stories so amazing and moving--thanks so much, everyone,  for sharing those godawful (or not so godawful, depending) memories.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Junior high school and high school were a really miserable time for me too, being a geeky baby-dyke with no fashion sense and no clue about how to be less unpopular.  (And being gay back then even in California was not considered just another lifestyle choice, but genuine freakitude.)  But I wasn't the total bottom rung of the social ladder, and didn't get bullied or teased.  And gym class was one of the few places I fit in better because I was pretty good at sports.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;So I can relate, in general, to the adolescent emotional scars, but had no idea how creepy and sadistic those classes could be!  Thanks again for giving me a clue.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/4216133988334004380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/4216133988334004380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200580200000#c4216133988334004380' title=''/><author><name>Crabby McSlacker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12108791388350253344</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='17138157196049443828'/></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-96866359102682346</id><published>2008-01-17T04:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T04:29:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I don't really know how things are/were in other c...</title><content type='html'>I don't really know how things are/were in other countries, since my  middle/high school P.E. classes were in France in the 1990s. But I can share my own experience as well, I suppose.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Oddly enough, I didn't hate P.E. class. There were sports I disliked, and sports I liked. Retrospectively, I realize that in fact, when I didn't like P.E., it was never because of my weight. (Hm, interesting... Now I need to think about that some more.)&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;For instance, I didn't like the yearly "mini-marathon" we had in middle-school, but this was more because they always organized it in November, so it was cold, rainy, and did I say cold, and running in the cold makes my nose and lungs hurt. (Up until about 1 year ago, I would always catch 5-6 colds in the 6 months of 'cold season', and I always fell ill after such runs. :()&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;I was definitely at unease with climbing and gymnastics. I happen to suffer from a mild form of vertigo, and climbing on a 6-meters wall definitely frightened me to death, especially when the partner supposed to hold my rope was a 45-kgs little wisp (I was about 30 kgs more!) who kept on chatting with other girls and didn't pay attention to me. LOL&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;And I also hated swimming, again for a reason not related to my weight: when I was 8, the teacher found nothing better to do than to throw me in the 'deep basin' at the swimming pool to 'teach me to swim'. Right. What it taught me was to be afraid of any water that went above my chin. I only managed to win over that fear when I was 22, thanks to my then BF who taught me skin-diving and had, above all, the good sense to NEVER tell me "oh, beware, you're swimming in deep waters now!" (he told me afterwards only, when I wouldn't be afraid of it anymore).&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;On the other hand, I loved hurdles, triathlon classes and basket-ball. I was on the volley-ball team for one year before they dismissed it due to lack of attendance, and I played volley-ball again in high school for 3 years for the inter-classes matches. I was pretty good at serving, among other things, and people on the other teams would never take me seriously, because "oh look at the short fat girl, she must be crap at sports, let's not be worried about her". Hee hee.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Ah yes, high school was also when I first got good grades at running! We were graded not only on how fast, but also on how regularly we would run laps; I wasn't fast, but I have quite the inner clock when it comes to regularity.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Well, I guess that in short, I liked P.E. when I liked the sport we practiced? I never was great at anything, but I could hold my ground in several sports without being ridiculous, at least.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/96866359102682346'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/96866359102682346'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200562140000#c96866359102682346' title=''/><author><name>Kery</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08065416590484975483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-3120057225983991215</id><published>2008-01-17T04:06:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T04:06:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, and those one piece gym suits in middle school...</title><content type='html'>Oh, and those one piece gym suits in middle school, you nailed it, weren't they just too horrid????!! With no sleeves on ours, so when you put your arms up your pits hung out, and my best girl friend didn't shave, and girls would point and laugh. I finally had to tell her....&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;What misogynist came up with that crap? I hope their karma caught up with them but good. What the heck was wrong with t-shirts and shorts indeed? It was abysmal. &lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;I had the one definitely gay gym teacher in middle school that I was madly in love with for two years because she treated me like a human being. She picked me to do the jump where you run and throw yourself up and over a bar and land on your back on a pad. I'd never done it, but she wanted me to demonstrate, I guess she could tell I was athletic. I nailed it in front of everyone. Nobody laughed. &lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Several gay gym teachers in high school, and my gay art teacher was previously a gym teacher... am I seeing a pattern here...? LOL!</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/3120057225983991215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/3120057225983991215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200560760000#c3120057225983991215' title=''/><author><name>TK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15747390418220178858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01227748279883361629'/></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-8788459659075673908</id><published>2008-01-17T03:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T03:57:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>mamacita is right to remind me that cheerleaders a...</title><content type='html'>mamacita is right to remind me that cheerleaders are people too, and nowadays maybe some of them are even nice. Oh, hey, I just remembered I actually know one, and she lives in NEBRASKA. So maybe it's a California thing??? There actually was one nice girl at my HS, Sandy, and I remember her still because she was the ONE nice girl. But yeah, one can't paint everyone with the same brush, it's NOT fair or kind.&lt;BR/&gt; &lt;BR/&gt;I still will continue to laugh when a cheerleader bites it in a horror movie though, it's a reflex after all these years, and I can't help it.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/8788459659075673908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/8788459659075673908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200560220000#c8788459659075673908' title=''/><author><name>TK</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15747390418220178858</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='01227748279883361629'/></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-6591069474338764585</id><published>2008-01-17T00:15:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-17T00:15:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I had a great gym teacher in elementary and I love...</title><content type='html'>I had a great gym teacher in elementary and I loved gym class.  So did all my friends, and some of us were athletic and some of us weren't.  She was just a good teacher. Looking back on things, I'm almost positive she is a lesbian...and sometimes people who are themselves diverse are better at nurturing diversity in others (like she was always really good at helping everyone find SOMETHING they were good at, and then having that kid give a demonstration).  She was on of those teachers who made every kid feel like he/she was the best.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;So yeah, I loved gym up until 6th grade.  &lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Buuuut, then I got to middle school and our gym teacher favored the popular kids.  I didn't start hating gym but I didn't love it anymore either.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;I do respectfully disagree with Crabby on one thing...team sports are probably more important than you hear.  at least for people like me.  My parents got divorced, we moved, I had no friends, the teachers wanted to hold me back a grade because I wasn't "socially developed enough," I had low self-esteem, I was overweight and awkward.  My mom put me on a soccer team.  It turned my life around, and I'm not exaggerating.  Sure, I was still fat and awkward, but I developed the confidence to love myself.  I give 50% credit to my mom and 50% credit to sports.  I wouldn't be who I am today without those two things.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Maybe sports are not "character building" for everybody.  But for some people they are life changing.  I studied Sports Management in college because I want to promote sports/healthy living/fitness for women.  &lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;Playing soccer turned my life around.&lt;BR/&gt;&lt;BR/&gt;ps. I was a cheerleader in high school, and I was never mean to anybody.  If you're gonna hate on people, hate on mean people because they're mean, don't hate on a girl just because she's a cheerleader.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/6591069474338764585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/6591069474338764585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200546900000#c6591069474338764585' title=''/><author><name>Mamacita Chilena</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00591882075295087687</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-7224812711973022878</id><published>2008-01-16T22:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T22:31:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When you are a nerd and a whimp, gym class was a n...</title><content type='html'>When you are a nerd and a whimp, gym class was a nightmare.  A nightmare.  However, my last year of high school, coach got it right. Occasionally we did calisthenics.  But the rest of the week, he'd let us group up and pick our own sport.  I played volleyball with my girlfriends. No 6 foot overly hormonal boys cramming that thing down my throat!</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/7224812711973022878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/7224812711973022878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200540660000#c7224812711973022878' title=''/><author><name>saintseester</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05674271080347529416</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-6878481959205004417</id><published>2008-01-16T21:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T21:58:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks for bringing up these scarring memories, Cr...</title><content type='html'>Thanks for bringing up these scarring memories, Crabby!  I'm kidding, but I do remember the Presidential Fitness Tests.  One of the tests was to see how many pull-ups the boys could do.  The girls' equivalent of this test was "The Bent-Arm Hang"  They would lift you up to grab the pull-up bar, and then let go of you to see how long you could hold yourself with your chin above the bar.  I hit my damn chin on that bar as soon as they let go of me.  Every. Single. Year. Once, I even bit my tongue, drawing blood.  I am an athlete, but my upper-body strength has still never been what it should be.  I think my arm muscles are still scared I'm going to attempt the Bent-Arm Hang again, so they are hiding out.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/6878481959205004417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/6878481959205004417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200538680000#c6878481959205004417' title=''/><author><name>Cara</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02889603882259256735</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='13217466935958321649'/></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-18389068026075414</id><published>2008-01-16T21:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-16T21:32:00.000-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ah! Gym Class!  I was always last one picked and t...</title><content type='html'>Ah! Gym Class!  I was always last one picked and the all time goalie.  I hated gym class.  Probably still would even without the emphasis on team sports.</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/18389068026075414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/5975061824326842208/comments/default/18389068026075414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html?showComment=1200537120000#c18389068026075414' title=''/><author><name>TB--Milwaukee</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08820683872993735450</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><thr:in-reply-to xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0' href='http://www.crankyfitness.com/2008/01/gym-class-memories-happy-or-heinous.html' ref='tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1704170106558126102.post-5975061824326842208' source='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1704170106558126102/posts/default/5975061824326842208' type='text/html'/></entry></feed>