Limping to the Finish
When I was in high school, I ran Cross Country for three seasons. No, you can't really tell to look at me now, but I did. In the fall I'd run three to five miles (or more) in practice pretty much every day and competitive 5K races twice a week. True story.
Not that I was any good at it, mind you. I have the inglorious distinction of having finished dead last in our league's junior varsity championship race for three consecutive years—twice due to gastric difficulties and once on account of my trademark ankle problems. In all three cases, I had lots of onlookers telling me to drop out. But I'd done that once, at a race in Cheyenne my sophomore year. I hated the way it felt, and I promised myself I'd never drop out of a race again.* So I endured the pain, and I finished. It took me a lot longer than anyone else to hit the finish line, but I finished.
That's pretty much how I feel right at this moment. Realistically, I can measure the remaining length of my college career in hours now. I've taken three final exams in the past seven days. I have one left tomorrow at 8:00 in the morning.
The last two weeks have been terrible. Sure, I usually get a cold or three each winter, but I don't recall ever having the kind of difficulties I've had over the past two weeks. I took my final on Tuesday morning with basically no prep time. It's not that I usually do a lot of cramming before a final; if I don't know it after sixteen weeks of lectures and homework, I don't figure I'm going to learn it in a few hours before the exam. But I do like to spend some time reviewing the material and reminding myself of some of the details, and that didn't happen. After my Tuesday final, I sought out my professor for the next day's exam and got a quick refresher in the finer points of group theory. But beyond that, I got basically no studying done for that test either. And I could feel it. In both cases, I found myself struggling to answer some questions or do some problems that I knew I could do—and had in fact done, in some cases. But I was still able to leave feeling generally confident in the results. I would have liked to do better, but I think I probably did well enough.
And now I face my last final exam with my situation almost infinitely improved. I'm feeling much better, as attested by the fact that I've been essentially vertical for most of the last two days. No, I'm still not at 100%. I have a small cough and a slight sniffle, my equilibrium—which is not great even under ideal conditions—is still a bit off, and some food still doesn't taste quite right. But I'm feeling well-rested. I actually slept all the way through the night last night, the first time in a while that's happened. My mind is a lot clearer, and I've been able to get some things done today. And now I can turn my thoughts to quantum mechanics and focus on getting ready for my one remaining final exam.
One final to go.
I can do this.
--
* And I never did.
Not that I was any good at it, mind you. I have the inglorious distinction of having finished dead last in our league's junior varsity championship race for three consecutive years—twice due to gastric difficulties and once on account of my trademark ankle problems. In all three cases, I had lots of onlookers telling me to drop out. But I'd done that once, at a race in Cheyenne my sophomore year. I hated the way it felt, and I promised myself I'd never drop out of a race again.* So I endured the pain, and I finished. It took me a lot longer than anyone else to hit the finish line, but I finished.
That's pretty much how I feel right at this moment. Realistically, I can measure the remaining length of my college career in hours now. I've taken three final exams in the past seven days. I have one left tomorrow at 8:00 in the morning.
The last two weeks have been terrible. Sure, I usually get a cold or three each winter, but I don't recall ever having the kind of difficulties I've had over the past two weeks. I took my final on Tuesday morning with basically no prep time. It's not that I usually do a lot of cramming before a final; if I don't know it after sixteen weeks of lectures and homework, I don't figure I'm going to learn it in a few hours before the exam. But I do like to spend some time reviewing the material and reminding myself of some of the details, and that didn't happen. After my Tuesday final, I sought out my professor for the next day's exam and got a quick refresher in the finer points of group theory. But beyond that, I got basically no studying done for that test either. And I could feel it. In both cases, I found myself struggling to answer some questions or do some problems that I knew I could do—and had in fact done, in some cases. But I was still able to leave feeling generally confident in the results. I would have liked to do better, but I think I probably did well enough.
And now I face my last final exam with my situation almost infinitely improved. I'm feeling much better, as attested by the fact that I've been essentially vertical for most of the last two days. No, I'm still not at 100%. I have a small cough and a slight sniffle, my equilibrium—which is not great even under ideal conditions—is still a bit off, and some food still doesn't taste quite right. But I'm feeling well-rested. I actually slept all the way through the night last night, the first time in a while that's happened. My mind is a lot clearer, and I've been able to get some things done today. And now I can turn my thoughts to quantum mechanics and focus on getting ready for my one remaining final exam.
One final to go.
I can do this.
--
* And I never did.
posted by Michael at
3:15 PM
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