I had always prided myself on never skipping class. Not even in high school, when all my friends were ditching AP Lit for sunny days and the promise of graduation.
After I committed to play DIII lacrosse at a private East Coast school, the possibility of skipping class felt like a horrible crime. I promised myself during the first week of freshman year that I would never, ever skip, for any reason.
Fast forward eight months later, and like most college freshmen, I had realized that most of my plans for college were completely unrealistic. And yet, I stuck to this one rule: no skipping class. Except today.
It was Tuesday: a gloomy, rainy Boston morning. I pulled myself out of my uncomfortable dorm bed at 6:30 am sharp for morning practice. As I stumbled around my dorm in the dark, pulling on sweats and a raincoat, my head started to pound. I was running on about three hours of sleep, having battled a hard-fought lacrosse game until 9 pm the night before, and five more games before that in the span of 2 weeks. To make matters worse, I was fighting all the evils of the second-half-season-student-athlete: injuries, shin splints, a lingering cough, constant headaches, caffeine dependency, upcoming exams, and homesickness.
To put it simply, my mind and body were exhausted.
When I finally convinced myself that there was no way I could physically make it to my class, I was so anxious and guilt-ridden that it took me 20 minutes to send an email explaining my absence to my professor. (Ms. Foley, a lovely and understanding woman, emailed me back with an “Of course! Take care of yourself!” quicker than it had taken me to write the first sentence).
I had done it. I had skipped a class. And…nothing happened.
The relief on my physical health was immediate. As most athletes know, a 2-hour nap, ice pack, and electrolyte drink can work wonders. But it was the impact this simple decision had on my mental health that took me by surprise.
As the day went on, I realized that my world hadn’t crashed down over one class. Anything I missed could be easily remedied by reaching out to a classmate or going to office hours, and (the biggest revelation!) I didn’t have to explain myself to a coach or parent. This was a choice I had made for myself, for my own well-being. It didn’t have to affect or involve anyone else.
Now, I’m not saying student-athletes should start skipping class on a whim, or give up on their academics in the name of wellness (skipping classes is a slippery slope, and there’s a big difference between taking a sick day and skipping a class because you just don’t want to go). But, if you’re stubborn and paranoid like me, let yourself think about the possibility for a second. Allow yourself to realistically consider the benefits of making time for yourself to take a second and breathe.
You’re not lazy, a bad student, a bad athlete, or a bad person for skipping a class when you feel like you’re drowning. Take it from me, it’s way better to take a second off here and there to let yourself recover than to push yourself beyond your breaking point.
Burnout is real, and dangerous. Even if it feels like it goes against all your promises to yourself, your body will tell you when it needs a break. You just need to listen.
