I recently found myself staring at MyPack Portal, not looking for a lecture that would further my career goals, but calculating whether or not I could fit a Fitness Walking course between an almost two-hour lecture and a part-time job.
I wasn’t looking for a workout — I was looking for a way to satisfy a degree requirement that feels less like wellness and more like an unnecessary cost in time and tuition.
Many students are in a constant state of academic survival mode. We are fighting for a decent GPA, networking and trying to build a resume that looks good enough for a summer internship. In times like these, the mandatory physical fitness requirement feels, to me, like an outdated hindrance created by someone who wanted to seem like they cared.
The math just isn’t adding up.
Most fitness courses are worth only one credit, but can demand the same commitment as a major degree requirement. You have to commute, change, sweat, shower and get back to a lecture hall, all for a class that contributes little to your learning experience.
For students without a financial safety net, every credit hour is a line on a loan statement.
Paying to be forced to play ultimate frisbee isn’t just inconvenient, it’s almost financially tone-deaf.
NC State wants to prove they care about holistic health, but seem to overlook the actual stress caused by overloaded schedules. We are told to prioritize our mental health while being handed course policies that can feel equally inflexible, regardless of whether the class is a low-credit elective or a demanding upper-level course.
We are already numerically quantified by our grades, our test scores and our LinkedIn connections. We don’t need to be quantified by how many laps we run or whether we show up to Intermediate Yoga on a Tuesday morning.
If the goal is actually to create a healthy lifestyle, NC State should focus on making Carmichael Gym accessible and intramural leagues fun, not making fitness a hurdle you have to jump over to get your diploma.
For many, especially those in marginalized communities or students with disabilities, these requirements are more than just a nuisance. They are an added layer of performative normalcy that ignores the reality of different bodies and different schedules.
Students who work long hours might struggle to fit leisure-based courses into their schedules, making these requirements feel less supportive and more burdensome.
So, how do we fix this issue? Make fitness courses an elective. Let the students who actually want to relax through a structured dance class take it, and let the rest use that time and money for something that we feel will benefit our personal future.
College is supposed to teach us how to be adults, and part of being an adult is deciding how to manage your own health and time. We don’t need a mandatory course to tell us how to stay active, we just need the freedom to focus on the degrees we’re actually here for.
