Erm, Hey! Welcome to my ‘blog’, whatever one of those is…
I don’t know what I’m going to write about. Could be uni, sports, polar bears, the little EDF energy guy… I guess that’s the adventure (cue excited face). One thing I can pretty much guarantee is that I won’t talk about politics or religion. They have no place here!
I guess an introduction… I’m 19, studying MORSE at Warwick. Now, pause. This is always a pain. Every time I meet someone new, be it at uni or elsewhere, of course one of the questions that comes up is ‘What course do you study?’ In real life, by the time I’ve said ‘Maths’ that’s probably enough. Though I don’t feel it justifies what I actually do (especially since I dropped all Maths modules after first year – we’ll get to that), and so I continue with the OR – Operational Research. Nobody outside of the course actually knows what that is (we’re not so sure, either) – it’s linear programming y’know like algorithms for maximising profits and stuff. Basically they’ve just added OR so it could spell a cool acronym. By now, the person I’m talking to is already bored, but I plough on through my socially awkwardness onto Statistics and Economics. By which point they have either interrupted me because they get the gist or have quietly decided I’m a pretentious snob who has to list all of the things he studies. Or both. This is one of many struggles in life as a MORSE student.
The other half of me is dedicated to running, namely the 800m and 1500m. I have 10 sessions/week spread over 6 days – Friday is rest day! I’m alright, don’t expect me to be in the Olympics or anything. I compete at national level for my mighty county of YORKSHIRE, but the gap between where I am and international level is, though not unbridgeable, fairly significant.
In my opinion it’s the most rewarding sport out there. People always ask ‘Why do you run?’ to which I never really have an answer, but I don’t really need one. I do it because I want to push myself to the limit. The human body is an amazing thing and I can’t think of anything more wasteful than spending my life sitting behind a desk every day, drinking every evening and letting my body rot away. Nah, I wanna see what millions of years of evolution can achieve.
Anybody who runs will tell you that when you’ve smashed out an unbelievably brutal session in the cold, wind and rain, there is no better feeling than getting home, sitting back and admiring what you’ve just achieved. Whether it was 15 miles or 15 minutes, you’ve done more than that guy sitting on the sofa watching TV, and a million years ago you’d have fed your family, whilst he would have been eaten by lions.
Doing all this uni and athletics jazz doesn’t leave much time for anything else (says the guy who’s writing a blog post). It’s the classic trilemma – Academic-Athletic-Social. You can have any two, but never all three. And yeah I’ve made loads of great friends at uni, but I guess I’ve prioritised the two ‘A’s so as to make something of myself with the £27,000 being spent by my family, rather than going for the ‘full uni experience’. Something many of the upper-middle class privately educated don’t understand over here… Honestly, they wouldn’t survive a week in Fev!
That said I wasn’t exactly the best student at school, I never did homework and I wasn’t afraid to argue with teachers who were being condescending or generally getting on my tits (P.E., I.T. & History spring to mind). But it was free and as long as I got good grades I didn’t care and neither did my parents. Don’t get me wrong I was no rebel either, the worst I’ve done is an hour’s isolation over the famous Bowman doppelganger scandal of 2011.
So yeah, I was a wannabe rebel who was friends with everybody from the chavs to the nerds, who blended in with the sporty crowd inc. several novelty rugby team appearances, and who did as little as he possibly could to get those magical A-Levels which got him into Warwick. I guess I’ve changed a bit since then but definitely haven’t matured a great deal. Though, gone are the days of starting fires after school with my *bad influence friends* and doing shameful things on the back row of the cinema at the ripe old age of 14.
Aaaaaaanyway… I hope you like my intro, congrats if you got to the end. Maybe we can be friends someday.
Did I do it right? Was that a blog?