I'm Not 17 Anymore

And it seemed like such a good idea at the time.

"I know", I thought, "I'll join the teachers team and race the sixth formers. I mean, how fast can they run? They're only seventeen, dammit".

The spectacle of yours truly looking like a flying tub of lard, as he watched everyone else zoom past him (including all the other teachers in the race, which was the most humiliating part) was not what one could call "dignified".

I knew I'd get ribbed about it at school, but on the whole, the kids were very good about it. Some told me they didn't know I could run so fast (which sounds like a compliment, but isn't), whilst others weren't so kind, but ultimately more honest.

I replied that it was the taking part that mattered, even though I knew that I'd made myself look like an utter pillock.

However, one teacher really touched me when she said that I'd made her proud.

I wanted to show the kids that I was more than just an attitudinal teacher and that I too could have fun. In hindsight however, I think I'm going to find other ways to prove this to the kids I teach next year, because right now, the lower part of my body positively hates me.