The Secret Life of NARPS

It took way too long for two college-aged girls to realize that the Middlebury Campus is released every Thursday. In other words, here is the very delayed Throwback Thursday edition of the Secret Life of NARPs.

Ever wondered whether Maddie or Izzy have ever experienced athletic success? Or when they realized that they were “different” from the others? Well, we are going to throw it way back to a time when we were the unimaginable: ballers. Hop on board readers (hopefully we were correct in using the plural here), because it’s time for a trip down memory lane.

Scene: The playground. While the weird kids ate dirt, we NARPs were busy basking in the glory of the only athletic moments of our entire lives: on the four square court. Recess commenced, and after chugging our Juicy Juice, we crumpled the cartons and tossed the boxes of liquid courage aside. NARPs were praised for their agility within the 8x8 square and their masterful manipulation of the regulated 8.5 inch rubber red ball — because, frankly, it was impossible for Maddie to have an asthma attack in such a small arena. We lived to be crowned king in the fourth square. Whether it took an aggressive Cherry Bomb, Popcorn, or Around the World alteration on the traditional game to be praised champion, we sacrificed friendships, reputations and safety to reach the ultimate goal. Are you wondering why Izzy’s cubby buddy, Jamie McDonell has a crooked nose? She doesn’t like to brag, but she had a wicked 3 inch vertical before a major cherry bomb one day ... and I think we all know what happened next. With the power of her favorite footwear, Heely’s, Izzy’s athletic prowess reached an all-time high (those dashing bedazzled wheels made getting those hard-to-reach balls a possibility). But the day came when Izzy’s Heelys no longer fit, and Maddie’s school banned the game after countless trips to the nurse and principal’s office. With no way to develop hand-eye coordination anymore, it was merely a downhill battle from there.

The remainder of NARP childhoods were spent playing Sims (yes, we all used the money cheat), watching Boy Meets World and staring at the window at the other kids playing games like Kick the Can or heading to soccer practice in their minivans (are those still around?). For Maddie and Izzy, their only exercise came after recognizing the illustrious ringing from a nearby ice cream truck through the dialogue of a Spongebob re-run. After a quick game of hide-and-go-seek for any loose change, a car chase ensued in front of all the neighborhood children. After flagging down the driver, we got our hands on either the king-size Bomb Pop (for Izzy) or the Powerpuff Girl graphic popsicle with a gumball eye (for Maddie). The reaction to us venturing outside for momentary exercise elicited a very To Kill A Mockingbird-eque reaction from the other kids. To be clear, we were Boo Radley.

Most of these memories came flooding back to us recently as we had a moment, albeit brief, of soul searching. Why are we training for a half-marathon? Now as the schedule becomes more demanding, we realize a half-marathon is not in fact just a few laps around Battell Beach; it’s a feat we have to work for. Not only are we trying to prove to ourselves that we can accomplish something, but we are representing the NARPs and trying to prove it’s possible to others as well. For Maddie, it’s an homage to her high school gym teacher who blamed an apparently very serious “mental block” on her inability to be athletic and therefore bench press twenty pounds. In reality, she really just had the upper-arm strength of a squirrel.

There are a lot of people on campus who doubt us as well. A mutual friend explained it in terms of economics. He wasn’t going to invest in a venture in which he expected to fail, because it would be an unwise entrepreneurial move. We take on a different mentality. When it’s early on a Saturday morning and we are about ready to embark on a long run, our ability to get out of bed is simple: haters be our motivators. We want to experience what it truly feels like to cross that finish line, and we also need an excuse to make a pump-up playlist. Happy Training!