As a runner, I’m expected to give myself goals. It’s the thing that runners do. We set goals, train hard to get enough fitness to achieve them (usually in the form of some sort of race time), and then we evaluate and set new ones. This cycle is familiar to anyone who is a runner.
Everyone is pooled outside of the classroom, anxiously waiting for the room to vacate so we can sit down. There’s a nervous energy in the air, permeating through even the most calm person. Many have their class notes out, mumbling about various facts and concepts. Others quiz each other, reciting definitions that I could say word for word, instead of giving their own “version” of the answer.
I’ve always considered myself to be good at physics. In every physics class I’ve taken, I’ve excelled at the subject and always enjoyed it. The blend of physical situations with the use of mathematics always enticed me. Consequently, my grades in nearly all of these physics classes have been great.