This is not the type victory lap that is being referred to.
I've often said that the victory lap is a something you can smell on a person. It's the smell of self-loathing coupled with a whiff of devil-may-care recklessness. It's the smell of imprisonment and the smell of freedom all at once.
In fact, some might say I know quite a few things about the v-lap, but most of all I know this: I know why the caged bird sings.
At this point, you may be worrying that I've gone off the deep end and have started taking myself seriously. Trust me on this one, I wouldn't worry about that... ever. At least not on this blog.
At this point you might also be curious about whether this return to the blogosphere heralds some kind of resurrection. Maybe, but probably not. This is more like a one-off endorsement. Or a PSA. Or a stab at a denouement. I find that it's quite impossible to tell most of the time.
So back to caged birds, singing. The victory lap, the fifth year, five plus, grade thirteen, the Van Wilder (thanks again, Wikipedia). It seems like a terrible idea, yet 3.7% of high school students find themselves there (sorry Jimmy Wales, I'm mad broke). I was once among them.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
What can one hope to expect? I will detail these in two parts below:
[For maximal reading pleasure please start clip at :41 or you will experience deep regret]
Part 1: Fall/Winter
Well, you'll probably start off with imagining (resentfully) your peers experiencing the wonders of keg stands, emancipation, and more importantly WiFi (these are the main reasons for higher education, right?). These feelings will peak during late August/early September especially if you choose (ever so masochistically) to venture on to social networking sites (these will soon become your vice).
The victory lappers will huddle for safety in groups in the cafeteria. Shame, fear will be rampant. You will know your kind - whatever the reason (grades, indecision, immaturity, fading hopes of Ofsaa glory trololol) you are all the same. You will dare not look others in the eye (especially not grade nines; Jesus... wasn't that one kid your reading buddy?) lest your resentment boil over in to some kind of alcohol based tantrum/downward spiral (this is inevitable but will happen later).
You will soon find a posse of fellow dejected, disenchanted types united by your collective bitterness. You will become goons, haunting two places (I am assuming only runners and running groupies read this): the gym and the library.
The gym, obviously is a haven because core-o-clock & deluded upper body strength exercises will allow you to both channel your frustrations and avoid social contact. But the library? I don't know about you, but my high school's principal thought that if we had Wi-Fi the whole high school would descend into a terrifying [farm animal] porno-ring (she was a very misguided woman, but she was probably right about that). After all the decent proxy sites get blocked you will eventually be forced to start lurking sites that are just too puzzling to bother blocking (running forums, lulza). You will probably create at least 5 TnF accounts and might even consider posting on Letsrun, or descend into harder stuff (4Chan?!).
NOOOOOOO.
Also, this might give you the opportunity to vandalize and steal copies of Runner's World and the like (no one will notice because you will be the only one who reads these).
Every couple of weeks you will go on a far-flung adventure in which you will run fairly quickly around a grass loop or two and crush the dreams of legitimate high school seniors. This part will be pretty alright, if somewhat unsatisfying. You won't feel too bad about it since payback's a bitch. After Ofsaa you'll be an empty shell of a human being, no doubt. You might even consider dropping out at this point if the only reason you came back was for the O-show glory (which occurs conveniently before the drop date).
Then December will arrive. You'll realize that you actually legit have to make some life choices. Nopenopenope.
Then suddenly - your uni apps are due and you're done school... FOREVER-until-September-but-that's-so-faaaar-away (unless you're going back for the whole year... good lord that sounds awful... seriously don't do it).
Part 2: Winter & beyond
You will march out of your high school expecting to feel like BAMF. Sunglasses off, never look back. You won't though. It will be snowy and barren. The only glory you will feel is your new-found ability to taunt any persons still involved in institutionalized learning.
So. You've been dropped from the pillars of responsibility and expectation. You could do something meaningful with your time. You could travel, get a wicked job, save the world. Or you could realize these things are much too ambitious and purposeful for the likes of you. You will catch up on a lifetime's worth of internetting. Every day will feel as long as a life age of the Earth (winter makes me want to watch Lord of the Rings).
After 6.5 days of this behaviour, you will feel crazier than Jack Torrance snowed in at the Overlook Hotel. You will need a project. A fifth year project.
Things will go downhill from here. Remember how I foreshadowed those old library habits becoming vice and that crazy alcohol induced downward spiral? This is that time. You will memorize all the facebooks, all the blogs, all the twitters, all the wikis, in the name of research. Either that or you'll become enamoured with the delusion that you are an elite runner and go overboard on mileage, core, cross-training (and inevitably become injured leading to a catastrophic cascading effect of futility and boredom). Or perhaps a strange combination of all these things. Yeah. Definitely all of these things.
You have arrived: there is a blogger account calling your name. You will find yourself hiding in a bush wearing dark sunglasses at high school meets.
Real life? What is that? Your entire existence consists of watching people run in circles like a hamster on its infinite treadmill, spiraling out of control to the rhythm of the background music (seriously, if you didn't hit play go back and do and reread this whole thing).
You will know no other way to live.
Soon you'll become enamoured with another delusion- that actual people and stuff care about your life. There is no hope now.
You have become Speedgoggles.
Okay, you actually haven't, no one can be me. But you will, no doubt have a similar trajectory should you choose the 5th year.
Moral of the story? Choose your own adventure at my behest.
