Fuck no!
Gym knickers, skirts with initials embroidered on and artex t-shirt. For ALL weathers.
"Lapped you, lapped you twice, lapped you 3 times!"
Wheezing to a motivational speech of "faster, you're not even trying." David Goggins is too soft to be a British PE teacher.
The rital humiliation of being the last to be selected onto a team by the bitchy teacher's pets. It used to come to my two untalented friends and A would go first, then B, then you'd see the shoulders go as bitch-face realised she was lumped with me by default.
Not being allowed to play culturally relevant sports like football coz female.
Being moaned at the one time that I had a note because PE clashed with incapacitating period pain which radiated from knees to ribs and rates equivilent to being 5-6cm dilated with a back to back baby.
PE teachers taking 4 years to realise that anyone could genuinely be that inept, slow and uncoordinated. My son is dyspraxic... and far more talented than me!
Always having the flat ball. I was in my 20s before I ever actually played with a fully inflated ball to realise the difference an inflated ball could make.
Always being allocated substitute if possible, or undesirable position like Wing Defense. Never allowed to try positions like Centre.
Once being banned from teaming up with my friends when there was an odd number. I was sent to hit the tennis ball against the wall instead which was totally unfair because the wall completely outclassed me and hit the ball back every time while I went for a tedious trudge to get the bloody thing to try and hit back at it again. What a waste of an hour of life!
Being too short to reach, climb up equipment like the horse or jump over things like hurdles or high jump. My knees were fucked up for years after a fast but thick arsehole decided to set off too early, catch me up and brought me down on the last hurdle. Naturally it was my fault for being slow, not his for strategically catching me to bring me down.
Damp, musty team vests.
Changing around buckets of rainwater from the leaky roof.
In good news the showers and the inspections had been dropped since an older relative had been at the school so that was one less humilation.
The whole thing was a waste of time and revolved entirely around discomfort and humilitation. The only bit of the whole process that could actually be considered exercise was the squirming around to get changed within a t-shirt lest my 30AAs got laughed at.
It was better in y11 when we had some degree of choice and could dump pointless shit like netball. We also had upgraded sports facilities and were the first year group to use the new gym machines which was vastly better as it was more real life and could just do our own thing without demotivating, degrading competition.
Fortunately outside school I did dancing (badly) and that meant that in my 20s I was happy to go to aerobics and yoga classes. I also did DoE and while I failed Bronze because I couldn't think of any sport to do for the physical section, I did go on to learn to swim 25m, and followed up by reaching a ASA silver award for my Gold DoE within 2 years. That gave me the confidence to learn to ride a bike. I then did C25k in my 30s because it fitted around my young family.
A mobile phone taught me how to run. Unlike a PE teacher, the app was kind, motivating and had useful advice like go slower and checking posture. I can wear whatever I'm comfortable with for the weather. I can choose interesting routes. I can set my own goals and build up to them appropriately. I ran a marathon by run/ walking and it was still the same medal that runners got for doing it at double my speed 🤷♀️
Although I'm into running and strength work, I'm ruling out Hyrox because those wall-balls look far too much like overweight netballs...
And I still don't do projectiles.