As the bell rang to herald in 7^th period, I came to the realization that I faced a daunting task, a feat of herculean strength. A challenge, my friends, of epic proportions. Every “E” day between 6^th and 7^th period I must make the incredible journey from the battle at Marathon back to Athens, 26 miles, carrying my 70 pound backpack, my oversized laptop, and the numerous papers that have managed to slip out of my bag throughout the day, in order to sound the victory of our boys over the Persians. Well, not exactly…but I do have to go from room SJ1 to room 102. A trek nearly one eighth of a mile in length (I measured), which under aforementioned conditions takes an average, over three runs, of 4 minutes and 23.4 seconds (I timed), an odyssey which my schedule demands I complete in under three minutes. Across the school, into the welcoming abode of Mr. Charles Flowers, the man who himself once said, “If you are walking down the hallway and find before you a river of molten lava, you ford that river, and you arrive on time to my class. If you are walking down the hallway, and you find yourself aggressively assaulted by a nine-headed yellow monster, you draw from your scabbard the sword Excalibur, you slay the foul beast, and you arrive on time to my class. Do not be late. Ever.” How I accomplish this impressive display of quadriceptual strength and aerobic stamina once a week is beyond me. On a serious note, I’m willing to bet that I have been to more rooms, gone to the wrong class more often, and just plain been late more times than anybody who has attended Xavier High School. I’m trying to turn my life around, so without further ado, here are my tips for navigating our schools hallways, for getting to class on time, and for getting to the right room in the first place. Apart from pack provisions, hydrate aggressively, use a raft made of the crispy chicken sandwiches to ford that lava river, etc. Everyone knows those ones

#1 Memorize Your Schedule

As soon as possible. It’s not that hard once you get the hang of it, our school runs on a rotating schedule, so that class you had second period yesterday, you’ll have first period today. It took me two years to pick up on this. “Dude what? How have you not memorized your schedule?” Cole Bruni and Stephen Bruno would say to me during those long years, ridiculing me in my ignorance. Well, I showed them, look who’s writing the article on memorizing schedules now, you hooligans. One thing that helped me get where I am today is putting schedules everywhere. Just, like, everywhere. Not anywhere crazy like in front of a urinal, or on the back of a friend with a helpful “kick me” written on it, not even duck taped over the basketball hoop before the Fairfield Prep game, as tempting as that may be. Just put them inside the cover of every composition book, on every binder, and tape one or two inside your locker somewhere. Remember, these things have your locker number and combination written on them, so don’t go crazy. If you’re extremely committed, you can lay in your bed at night thinking with what sublime grace your schedule rotates round and round, but that’s a lot to ask. Actually, that’s insane. If you find yourself doing this refer yourself to guidance immediately. Like I said, it was a long two years.

#2 Run

Never walk, ever. You’ll be trampled, and possibly killed, by the hordes of students trying to get to Mr. Flower’s class. Just kidding…but only a little bit. You’ll probably look foolish, your fellow students will sneer and laugh at your commitment to punctuality, but to blazes with them. In fact, many of you have probably seen me running to make a class, and may have in fact laughed yourselves, so to blazes with you too, cynical reader. Like I said in the intro, that’s 1 minute and 23.4 seconds you have to make up. In my travels I have found that it is physiologically impossible to cut 1 minute and 23.4 seconds off your eighth-of-a-mile time while keeping one foot in contact with the ground at all times (Olympic speed walking regulations, I googled). Some obvious precautions must be taken in order for the safety of all, like never try and slide on the main hallway floor without socks, and don’t throw elbows while trying to make it to geometry class. In fact, I may very well be fired from this fine publication for telling you to run to class, but if you get to class on time, I’ll take that hit. If I see one student sprinting and leaping his way from room 118 to the portables after reading this article, I have done my job. This is where aerobic and anaerobic capacity come into play. Many would call you crazy if they saw you running the SJ stairs with your backpack on, not me. It was a very, very long two years. As an aside, everybody at Xavier seems to think they’re Usain Bolt as soon as they reach a stairway. I’ve never understood this, and if someone would like to explain this to me, please send me an e-mail at [email protected]. (Editor’s Note: Do NOT run to class, that’s not even close to safe)

#3 Accept Defeat with Grace

Ok Kestrel readers. The day has come. You sit in Physics class, first period, waiting for that bell to ring. As soon as you hear that sacred chime, before Ms. DiSanto can even say the word “go!”, you grab your bags and book it out of that classroom. You pass the dining hall at a record pace, as you reach the school store lactic acid begins to build in your legs, but months of training has prepared you for this very moment. You manage to weave your way through the throngs of underachievers, and you pass Mr. K., who is obviously impressed with your speed. Room 102 is within sight, and as the bell rings you make one final leap for glory, sprawling out onto the classroom floor in a victorious heap. As you glance up, with the smug look of success on your face, Mr. Flowers says, “Ah Tim, good to see you.” You hear the sounds of freshman laughing, and you realize that after first period comes homeroom. Well, nuts. As you walk back to your homeroom (room SJ2, a mere 1/156^th of a mile from SJ1, I estimated), hanging your head in shame, you realize you have suffered a great embarrassment. This exact story has never happened to me. But many times in my four years I have been surprised at the realization that the room I was standing in was not my classroom (should’ve taped a schedule in front of that urinal). This is a defining moment in the career of any student. You can either fall on your knees, crying out in despair, or you can pick yourself up, give the teacher a nod, and make your way back to the correct classroom. Understand this: you will fail. You will be late to class, and you will go to the wrong classroom, it is an unavoidable fact of high school life. Accept defeat with grace, and prepare yourself for the moment you walk in to class 5 minutes late and have to explain to everyone that you went to the wrong room.