The Senior Struggle: An Endurance Test

This is an illusion of productivity. | Photo by Kelly Felsberg
This is an illusion of productivity. | Photo by Kelly Felsberg

In order to participate in my sailing course, I had to pass a mandatory swim test–four laps in the competition pool, followed by one minute of the dead-man’s float and two minutes of treading water. My vaguely athletic high school self would have faced this challenge gracefully with more than enough endurance to fly through the water. I’ll admit that my college self was nervous about my ability to complete the laps. I can swim, of course, but I certainly thought (think) I lacked (lack) the strength for this endeavor which could only end in embarrassment. To put my fitness level into perspective, the last time I even entered FitRec was this time last year. I hardly exercise, much to the dismay of my mother, who threatened to buy me running sneakers as a 22nd birthday present.

Nevertheless, I passed the test, struggling only slightly towards the end. Wearing a borrowed swimsuit and tickle-me pink swim cap, I swam the first two laps with minimal form. I tried butterfly, and only kicking my feet, but then finally succumbed to the average stroke. My pace dwindled considerably during the final two laps as my core struggled to carry my body forward to the pool’s perimeter. I was losing energy more quickly having previously over exerted myself, a rookie mistake in endurance tests. Although I was tired and wanted a rest, I couldn’t help creeping forward in the water during the free-float portion of the test just like a fish spastically bounding across dry land, fully out of its element. My impulse was to continue moving forward, not matter how inconvenient. I could not to stop, regardless of exhaustion.

Considering the past week, this swim test might just be the perfect allegory for the progression of this semester, if not year. Starting strong and planning ahead quickly gave way to deteriorating health and procrastinating intensely. I read Madame Bovary in a little under twelve hours and I felt positively acidic the rest of the day. (I do not recommend this imprudent feat unless you practice masochism.) Tuesday morning before my 2 p.m. class proved to be the more reckless time to read a 300 page novel, especially when I had all weekend to dig in to Flaubert’s seminal work. My weekend was instead spent cleaning the apartment (somewhat responsible, right?), and watching the recently-added-to-Netflix (!!) season five of Mad Men, so I’d be ready for the premiere this past Sunday.

I should note that my freshman year self is screaming internally about the number times I have recklessly faced a paper the night before its due date this year. And yet, this harassment can’t stop my odd momentum of completing assignments in disjunctive waves of producitivity. It feels like I’m at the beach, wading in the ocean, waiting to dive under or jump over the next powerful wave effortlessly just in the nick of time. Except I’m not at the beach, and I’m certainly not narrowly avoiding ocean breakers. I’m instead barely escaping the consequences of neglecting pages upon pages of .pdf reading and thesis statements.

And to think I’m living this way because I just had to see if Don Draper returned to his womanizing ways! (Spoiler alert: he does.) I sympathize to a point because I, too, am desperately attempting to avoid the nagging possibility that I will drown under the rising tide of these final four weeks. Although I thought it a cute joke at first, the title of this column has never felt more real than right now (and these sprawling paragraphs on swim tests and odd, unexplained priorities may just be a cry for help). I’m concerned because if the season six opener for Mad Men is any indication of the final outcome for this ultimate semester, I should probably exit the pool and take off to Hawaii now because my patience for school has certainly reached the “jumping off point.” I can only hope that right now my life won’t emulate the seasoned one-hour television drama.

About Kelly Felsberg

Kelly is a senior English major and copy editor for The Quad. She only writes with Sharpie pens.

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