Powered by kale.

It’s midterm time so Bwog is continuing one of our favorite types of series: archetypes, specifically College Walk Archetypes. We all recognize certain people/groups of people as we sprint from Ferris to Havemeyer in the morning. Mind you, our idea of “College Walk” is really anything from Butler to Low, so be prepared for some real nut jobs interesting individuals.  This time around, Ali Sawyer brings you the exerciser.

What’s that panting, thudding rhythm you hear approaching from behind? Before you even have time to glance back, you feel a gust of air from both sides and a sweaty arm momentarily grazing your own.

It’s just a couple of College Walk exercisers—shirtless, sporting impossibly short shorts. It doesn’t matter that it’s a brisk 40° outside. True exercisers go shirtless in a blizzard. They can’t afford that extra fabric weighing them down.

They run in stoic synchronicity, looking straight ahead. Except for every 10 seconds, when they divert their gazes to their Nike+ watches to make sure they’re on track for that next five-minute mile. No one, not even meandering tourists, can deter them from their trajectory. Their neon shoes leave flashes of electric yellow lingering behind them.

You have just a moment to appreciate their chiseled physiques as they blaze past the Sundial. You feel a pang of nostalgia recalling the last time you exercised, when you  played middle school soccer hit the gym last week. But it’s just because you don’t have time to exercise. If you could run that fast, you would surely take a jaunt between all your classes.

The exercisers vanish in the distance toward the 116^th Street Gates. You wipe the droplet of not-your-own sweat off your arm and proceed walking to class, munching on your Ferris cookie.