Day 5: Hitting the Wall

When I used to run competitively more than ten miles, there would be a time in the process where I wasn't sure if my hips had fallen out of their sockets, my kidneys had exploded or I'd been attacked with a hatchet by the runner behind me (assuming there was anyone left who hadn't passed me). Today I was midway through the first morning class (Executive Coaching) when I had the sitting-in-this-chair-for one-more-second equivalent of that experience. I considered the options and was about to resort to embarrassing bodily noises when one of my classmates proved once again that I'm the slow kid. The alarm on his cell phone went off. He jumped up and said, "Sorry, medical emergency" and ran from the room. If I could have texted six or seven others to do the same, it might work. Mass exodus for medical emergencies seems a lot more credible than me jumping up and shouting, "Me too." The professor could assume we all had food poisoning from the buffet (a growing probability) or legionnaire's disease from the freezer they use to ventilate the first floor ladies' room. Lucky for me, we went to the 'experiential' part of the program before my inhibitions went blue screen, but the new plan still wasn't allowing me to lay prone on the floor which was my real ambition.

Lunch might conceivably have provided a reprieve but day five of the bland buffet is the gastronomic equivalent of sitting-in-this-chair-for-one-more-second. Many were saved by the fact that they actually ran out of food. I am not sure how this happened unless a few fellow students were attempting suicide with the chicken-like thing slathered in the bar-b-q- like sauce. Whatever the reason, the result was the devolution of humanistic Jungian psychologists into something a little more primal and Freudian. I've sunk to the place where this actually refreshed me enough so that when Shani suggested a walk, I went.

Seeing the sky helped a lot. Breathing outdoor un-recirculated air helped even more.

My saner self was returning. I could complete this race. The finish line is nearly in sight.

The afternoon session was fun. "Heck, I can do this with a bit of grace," I thought.

"What's next, Shani?" I asked, ready to move on to the last mile of the day.

"Library research," she said, and I gamely got on the elevator going down (which turned out to be a metaphor as well as a direction).

Our first clue should have been that our other buddies weren't there. In fact, for a course so required that you are automatically registered for it (see day one), the room was pretty empty. Frau Librarian was already in process and appeared none too happy about it. We were just getting started on the enchanting finer points of APA notation when the English guy seated by the door raised his hand. "Why do we have to use that? The school isn't even APA accredited." Sensing the equivalent of the earlier lunch riots, I perked right up. Frau professor hardened her grip on her mouse and explained this was what Saybrook required. English man persisted. "That seems fascist to me," he said. Shani and I looked at each other. Bad choice of description for someone with what sounded like a German accent. Frau was of the repeat-it-a-bit-more-forcibly school of arguments. The English are nothing if not determined. Frau's counterattack was to ask whether he was a MA or PhD student. Then she repeated his response, "MA" and imperceptibly dusted off her hands. So much for him. The next time I looked over, he was gone. The last half hour was filled with information that will probably result in what Lisa classifies as "Classes most likely to make my life miserable." I hope Shani took good notes. I was having another attack of the-chair-is-devouring-my-rear end.

Lisa refused another buffet. (Sacrificial lamb tonight.) We grabbed a cab for a couple of terrific hours out of the hotel with real food. We were to meet Susan at eight back at the hotel to map out the semester plan of attack/survival. The restaurant was great but slow. We were more than an hour late getting back. Susan had waited bravely in the bar. That woman is nothing if not heroic. She and Lisa had their own stories to tell of the 'other' research class--the one Shani and I probably should have attended. Lisa had had to eat her weight in peanut m & m's to stay awake. Susan, eager to succeed, had wanted information on the books required until Lisa in a chocolate-fueled frenzy, forcibly reminded her she'd ordered them two days ago. Despite Susan's stoic stand in the bar, it was clear I wasn't the only one contemplating the wall. We all began to laugh so hard we were crying--at least I think that's why the tears were rolling.