With the sting of the cold and longing for that breath of warm fresh air, thoughts turn to days spent in the young teen sweat-infused gym at RFH. Oh, the ritual of that mandatory indoor exercise.

Ahhh, memories. More like a little PTSD remembrance of the torture the class was for some — especially when stuck inside. When you’re not an athlete and, for that matter, can barely volley a ball (and I mean barely), gym class day was the day of trying to get some sort of note of excuse from your mom to get you out of the embarrassment. Forgery became a talent. Though some moms could feel the uncoordinated kids’ pain and easily relented with prompt penning.

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