Eva Jaber ‘28 (she/her) is a prospective English or international relations major. She is a member of the Cleftomaniacs, an a cappella group, an ESL tutor and hopes to encourage peace-minded advocacy on campus. Contact her at ehjaber@wm.edu.
The views expressed in the article are the author’s own.
My heart rate is currently 150 bpm. Well, at least that’s what the StairMaster machine that I’m on right now says. I am going to check it periodically throughout this writing process and keep you updated. The people next to me watching me furiously type away on my phone probably think I’m a screenager. If only they knew I was writing this column right now. I’m not a screenager. I’m an artist.
Also, every time I finish a paragraph I have to up the level of my StairMaster climb. Time for level eight. 716 steps in, and I’m not getting off this thing until I’ve wrapped the column for this week. Ima speed run this.
The question for this week is as follows:
“how do i cope with the torrential downpours and newly-formed rivers on campus[?]”
As I read this question, my black Goga Mat Skechers are stomping the soul out of this StairMaster machine. Why is this detail about my black Goga Mat Skechers necessary? Because, dear reader, I don’t normally wear my black Goga Mat Skechers to do physical activity. My favorite shoes are my pink Skechers slip ins, but I can’t wear those today because they’re SOAKING WET. Why, you ask, are they soaking wet? Because I, an unsuspecting victim of rainwater vandalism, found myself on a one-way road to Loserville. I had to get to the Sadler Center from the Sunken Garden in the pouring rain, and I am too much of a brand loyalist to wear anything but Skechers. I was confident that I could traverse the puddle-ridden terrain that is our campus in my trusty sneakers. I, for the very first (and quite likely the very last) time in my life, was wrong. There was no way to my destination except through the puddle. So I sacrificed my shoes and my socks and, with them, my dignity.
Sidebar: I’m at 176 bpm. I hate you guys. I hate this StairMaster. I do this for you and for the love of the craft, but in this moment I question whether you were ever worth any of it. The price of fame is far too high. And yet, I’ve already amassed too much aura debt to give my column up too. So I climb.
Alright, back to your question. You want to know how to cope with the rain? You gotta fight through the pain.
Now, I’m not going to tell you how to get through the storm unscathed. As I just vividly narrated, I wasn’t even able to do that, so you, dear reader, are hopeless. But the question isn’t asking how to succeed. It’s asking how to cope. I can teach you how to do that. Here’s how I did it:
If it looks like there’ll be rain on your way to class, slip on some sneakers. It is imperative that you appear dangerously nonchalant to the rest of the campus community. Do not change your behavior for the weather. Wade right through the puddles as your shoes absorb the stormwater runoff. Stare right in the eyes of any passerby to assert dominance.
Leave your shoes to dry and put on an objectively less epic pair of kicks (a Skechers Goga Mat walking shoe, for example). Wait inside your dorm until the rain stops and has fully evaporated. This might take days, and that’s okay. Do whatever it takes to stay out of the public eye. It’s a miracle you could keep up the cool guy masquerade even for one swim through Sunken. No need to risk slipping up.
The stress of all this acting and hiding has probably got you feeling tense. Walk yourself over to The Rec and attend a session of Foam Roll Friday with Kim. Once you’ve loosened up, you’ll have forgotten all the embarrassment of the past few days ever happened.
Before leaving The Rec, accidentally look down at your second favorite pair of shoes, reminding yourself that you did, in fact, live through the aforementioned embarrassment of the past few days. Let the anger consume you. The best coping mechanism is rage. Repeat this affirmation after me: “the campus puddles will never stop me again.” Do you really mean that? Say it with your chest. “THE CAMPUS PUDDLES WILL NEVER STOP ME AGAIN.”
Let’s capitalize on this energy. It’s time to build some muscle so next rain storm you can jump high and far enough to clear every puddle. What’s the scientifically-proven quickest way to beef up your quads and hammies? The StairMaster.
Once you’ve started climbing, you can choose one of three ways to occupy yourself. One: write me fan mail (use voice to text so the rest of the Rec can hear how much you love me). Two: apply to “Shark Tank” on my behalf. Three: make a LinkedIn page and let me be your first connection. Whatever you choose, don’t stop climbing until your legs have grown to eight times their original size.
My phone’s now at 4% and my tree trunk legs are bounding up this StairMaster at a whopping level 21. Don’t believe me? I have photo proof.
Whew. Here we are, at the end of this week’s column. I’ve climbed a little over 3,061 steps, and my heart rate is currently 189 bpm. The only river here today is my sweat and tears. Keep asking me stuff, and I’ll see you in two weeks.
