Gravity Sucks (ROFL), Here’s Why

Wallies. The time has come where I have to accept that some form of blog-inspiring motivation is not just going to fly through the cold dorm window and give me something to write about. So, in order to continue dissuading Chip Timmons and Howard Hewitt from assassinating me in some crazy blogger coup, it’s time to blog, whether I have anything important to say or not!

I think we’ve reached the point around campus where the general idea is something along the lines of: “I opened my bag of eff’s and just couldn’t find one to give.” The weather hasn’t been helping anyone’s motivation either. Between Honor’s Scholar Weekend and

Yeah, something like this.

Pan-Hel week, there just seems to be a dead space where nothing happens. We’re there, folks. The biggest excitement of the week was Monday night’s campus snowball fight. Rhines grilled out, the national anthem was swung, and every fraternity/hall brought their own personal flavor to the war, including Phi Delt’s own freaking potato cannon. Meanwhile, us cross country runners were blockading the front door of our teammates’ house with a massive pile of snow.

The one exciting thing that happened to me this week was that I finally started running on the treadmill again. And naturally, there’s a story to go along with that.

So I get on the treadmill for the first time since January. My shin doesn’t hurt and things are going well. I’ve mentally psyched myself up for a 45-minute jog, my “fun-running” playlist is in, and I’m feeling good. Enter gravity.

So my iPod is sitting on the edge of the treadmill, right? And the cord of my headphones stretches from my iPod to my ears. Simple enough. Out of nowhere, I do my best Bruce Lee impression and karate chop the hell out of my headphone cord. IPod and headphones catapult onto the 8.5 mile-per-hour piece of spinning death tread underneath my feet, and time comes to a standstill. I have options: crush my brand new iPod to pieces with my hooves or completely bite the dust and potentially further injure myself. The situation looks nasty.

I decide to Lolo Jones the iPod, and jump onto the side-rails of the treadmill. Like the world’s most aggressive Apple assembly line, the treadmill launches my poor device halfway across the weight-room floor at break-neck speed, which naturally draws the attention of every single person in the room. All eyes on me, I take the walk of shame over to the iPod and slink back to finish my workout in peace. There’s no way to play off that situation cooly. I could feel the judgement of the foreign exchange student next to me burning into my flesh. Luckily, my iPod is still in perfect condition.

Even in the midst of an excitement drought, there’s just never really a dull moment for Nathaniel Bode.

Happy Easter weekend everyone!


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