second
In year 9 of an all boys private school, we had this hardcore physical education teacher. He would make us run 5km as a warmup, then got us to do weights and play rugby.

Each week we would run the same track. Up a hill, out of school, in school again, down the hill, around an oval, back up the hill etc...

The hill made it harder.

Anyway, I originally wasn't very good at this. Read: CRAP. I would die halfway, only to have this teacher practically verbally whipping me (if he actually had a whip he would have used it), to keep me running.

So rather than people who just give up and walk, I'm out there every week running the whole thing. A couple of the times I collapsed at the end, I was often delirious. The teacher liked my efforts and kept an eye on me. He made it his mission to make me into a human machine.

He also taught me maths, and since I was his "project", he would give me nicknames.

Nicknames he gave me: "The Bertram", "The Bertie", "The machine", "The man, the moment...", "The tank", "The bug", "The Beetle" ( not that Bertie Beetle was a popular chocolate at the time), "The second coming", and god knows what else. Some people found this vaguely amusing, most thought it kinda cool.

So over the course of the year I'm still running every week, and whatever else. I gradually get better, the teacher yelling abuse and encouragement (didn't really remember which) all the way.

At the end of the year we had a cross country run. 10km or something. Out of some 120 students, possibly more, I came 14th or something. I beat people in the actual Cross Country club, I beat athletics proteges, I beat my friends, I FUCKING KICKED ARSE.

Just as I was finishing, the teacher walks up to me, smiles, and says "Good job Bertram", and then walks off into the sunset.

oh, and to stay on topic, those nicknames were slightly 
awkward and embarassing sometimes, hence why i didn't like them

(riedacher_bertram, Thu 18 May 2006, 15:50, Reply)