Friends, family, and acquaintances:

This may be my last missive. The odds are stacked against me, I fear, and I have naught to do but bolster my last ounce of courage and step boldly toward my certain demise.

I knew I shouldn’t have signed up.

I justified my actions by telling myself that registering for the 10K instead of the half marathon was a concession that justified a short training period for the mid-October race. But then life got crazy, my training plan ran ragged, and I reached the T-minus one week date in the training calendar. Time for a long run.

Word to the wise: There is not one patch of level earth in all of eastern Tennessee. Every dang inch of this beautiful landscape is set at an angle — most of it uphill. I huffed and puffed and crawled (not an exaggeration; there were four limbs involved) all around Enterprise Park this morning, and narrowly avoided an early death.  Vestiges of the Park’s annual “Spooktober” activities felt pointed my direction: gravestones and grim reapers stared me down as I wheezed and gasped for oxygen. Having crossed the threshold of another annual circumnavigation of the sun this week made these reminders of my soon-coming demise even more poignant. So, my friends, farewell….

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Tennessee’s topography seems to match the mood of teaching in the Volunteer State. I administered an exam on Friday, and my email inbox had response messages of “I’M SO HAPPY!” and “When can I meet with you to learn this material?” sent within minutes of each other. I was reminded last Monday that professor office supplies should include a box of tissues. I’m convinced my students feel worse than the dismembered arms and legs I pull out of bags to drop on the table in front of them; my smile of glee doesn’t appear to make them feel any better.

My office hours have turned from class prep time to back-to-back student interviews. We talk about study habits & test-taking skills, sliding filaments & alveoli. I’d give myself about a 60% pass rate on improved student understanding upon leaving vs entering my office. I suspect they might be faking it to make me feel better, though — Southern hospitality, as they say.

I’ve had multiple requests for makeup work and retests, and way too many inquiries on how to pass this class without reading the textbook. 😑 Overall, I have students who truly want to succeed, but have barely an idea of where to start. The transition from 12th to 13th grade is a steep uphill climb; I guess I understand the crawling.

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I have enjoyed knowing you all in this walk/run/crawl called Life. I suppose a 10K in the mountains is a memorable way to say goodbye.  At least my students will have their midterm grades posted… though perhaps that’s no consolation. 🫂