In physical education (sorry physical education teachers, but I’m going to call it “gym”), there is a universally acknowledged bell curve of effort versus acceptance (see graph to the right). Someone who lies on the far left of The Curve gives minimal effort, and the class recognizes it. The class does not accept this person. This person lets his partner down in badminton, never sweats and would probably sink to the bottom of the pool if it was not so much of a burden on his lungs.

Someone who lies on the far right of The Curve gives too much effort, and the class does not accept him for it. He makes diving catches whether necessary or not. He argues every time he gets out in Scatterball or Trenchball or Dulball or any other game that was made up by the P.E. department that is obviously Dodgeball but not named Dodgeball for some undisclosed reason. Somehow he sweats in the pool.

The middle of The Curve is perfect. The person in the middle of The Curve supports his teammates in Ultimate Frisbee. He doesn’t set the treadmill to 12 miles-per-hour. He is accepted.

(I realize I’m using male pronouns. It’s because I don’t have much knowledge of girls in gym, and I frankly don’t know where they go after freshman year. I think there’s a dance class?)

Gym friends

You have a gym friend.

I’m not talking about that person you hang out with in gym who you know outside of gym. I’m talking about the person who you have only seen in his gym uniform. You don’t know his last name. You don’t know what he eats for lunch. It would feel weird not doing push-ups around him. You share the same position on The Curve.

Gym friends are almost better than real friends. There is no drama between gym friends. They don’t worry about who’s in whose Homecoming group or if they should go to the football game or accidentally wearing the same clothes (because gym friends always wear the same clothes).

Social judgment is limited to The Curve. There is physical judgment of course, but the lack of typical social judgment is what allows gym friends to transcend all barriers of high school. Who you hang out with or your activities in the non-gym world don’t define or limit gym friends.

If everyone in the world could take gym together, there would be no war. There would only be The Great Curve. We would see each other through understanding eyes. We would all be gym friends.

The [boys] locker room

First and most importantly, everyone checks their hair in the one-way mirror.

Also, locker-row friends are similar to gym friends, but different in that locker-row friends are always partially naked. They form their bond by debriefing the previous class and asking each other if they should take a shower.

Conversations in the locker room are few and similar.

“Should I take a shower?”

“No.”

The locker room is the transition between gym and everything that is not gym, and loitering during this transition to make conversation is frowned upon. The illogical and overwhelming humidity, along with the logical and also overwhelming stench, give more reason to leave as soon as possible.