Sunday Adventures

I haven’t posted in a while, and that’s a shame. But it’s that time of the year when life really starts to kick in on campus. Once classes end, it’s homework, meeting, homework, practice, homework, and then bed (if you’re lucky) before starting the whole routine over again the next morning. The one thing I’ve really noticed has been amped up this year is the reading material. Freshman year required maybe a 20-30 minute skim of the material to get a pretty solid and fully-functional grasp of what would be discussed in class the next day (except for Dr. Hoerl’s tutorial – critical reading required). But this year, every day I find myself printing off another 30 to 40 page document that must be scrutinized, highlighted, circled, annotated, and summarized before I feel confident going into class. It’s been a time strain, but the crazy thing is, when you start to really read the material, you actually start to learn things! College is crazy like that. I never would have imagined that I would (by thoroughly reading the class assignments) end up having a spontaneous, detailed, and somewhat passionate discussion with my roommate about the role of the United States in the Cuban Revolution, but here we are.

Even with the time constraints of homework, I did manage to find time to head home this weekend to spend a day with the family. I even got to take two of my Cross Country teammates with me, which resulted in complete plenty of moments when we all laughed until we cried (which is why I love my teammates). We all had to drag our butts back to campus for a rainy 7:30 AM practice on Sunday morning, but that didn’t necessarily stop the hilarity.

STORY TIME

Because our long Sunday runs would become excessively tedious if we ran 11 to 19 miles on our own campus, the Red Pack heads out in a multi-car caravan to other places, such as Shades State Park, to run around for a while. This weekend, we headed to Depauw University to take advantage of their running trails. Like every weekend, my 1997 Chevy Cavalier, “Cheryl” served as a runner-mobile in the carpool to Greencastle. On the way back, I noticed that my tank was a little less than a quarter full, so when we pulled into a Speedway to get some snacks, I politely informed the clerk that I would like $30 on Pump 8. To which she replied that they were “out of gas today.”

WHAT. Pizza Hut’s without pizza. Kentucky Fried Chicken without chicken. Starbuck’s without coffee. These are the types of things that JUST DON’T HAPPEN, including a GAS station with NO GAS. A little nervously, we decide to just shoot for home, assuming that a quarter tank can get us the 30 miles home to Crawfordsville. About 5 minutes later the gas gauge plummets and…my gas light is on. Uh oh. An iPhone points us to the nearest gas station 11 miles away. We’re on pins and needles flying down the backroads of Raccoon, Indiana (really), hoping we don’t die coming up a hill. After an unbearable amount of time, we see the gas station lights. On the OTHER SIDE OF THE SLOWEST DOG-GONE TRAIN YOU CAN FEASIBLY IMAGINE. You cannot write this, folks. We are blowing fumes watching a train piddle by, within spitting distance of salvation. Long story short, we did eventually make it, and got home safe and sound, before 11:30. We even found the Statue of Libery in a lake. Who said that Wabash isn’t exciting on the weekends?

A visual metaphor for the government shutdown.

Make good choices, Wabash.

Bode

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