How I Survive the Walk to School Without Losing my Will to Live

Everyone loves to brag about how they can roll out of bed five minutes before class and still make it to class on time. (Good for you, king. May your alarm never betray you.) Meanwhile, some of us are out here having our own daily Olympic event—a 20-30 minute trek to campus. Every. Single. Day. Character-building, they say. Trauma, I reply.

For those of us living along Avenue de Sospel, though geographically close to the train station (I take advantage of this a lot), the location brings numerous problems, namely a long walk to school that chips at my will to live. Yes, it builds character. Yes, it’s free exercise. But let’s be honest: most mornings it feels less like a commute and more like a punishment. To find the best coping strategies, I spoke with other students who share this daily struggle. Still, since teleportation hasn’t been invented, here’s how to survive—and maybe even thrive—on the daily trek. 

Step Zero: Pre-Departure Preparation

Before you even step outside, the suffering begins.

• Check the weather. I know it’s freezing at 7 a.m., but you’re going to regret wearing that Uniqlo Heattech (true story). And if you’re walking to class in the middle of the day, shorts and a tank top will be your best friend.

• Pack strategically. Laptop, readings, water, umbrella, sunglasses…suddenly your bag weighs as much as a baby elephant.

• Footwear choice. One wrong move and you’re hobbling by Minute 5. (See Step Two: The Shoe Betrayal)

• Breakfast (a.k.a. the most important step). If you don’t have your daily coffee/matcha and something vaguely breakfast-shaped, you will collapse at Minute 7. Don’t test this.

• Final mental pep talk. Remind yourself: “I am strong, I am capable, I am…already regretting this.”

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Step One: Accept your fate.

You live far. No, you can’t “just run.” No, Uber is not a sustainable option unless you’ve got a trust fund (in which case…hi, can we be friends?). Accept it. Romanticise it. Call it your daily mindfulness walk if that helps you sleep at night.

Step Two: The Shoe Betrayal

If you’re thinking of wearing “cute shoes,” please don’t. Those boots will stab you in the back faster than a bad group project partner. Sneakers only. Anything else is an act of self-sabotage. And no, “breaking them in” doesn’t work. Ask my blisters.

“I wear sandals. It’s fine.” — Someone whose house is literally next door to Sciences Po (may they stub their toe on the way out.)

Step Three: Entertain or Perish

A 20-minute walk in silence is basically an invitation for your brain to spiral. Don’t do it. Load up:

• A playlist you can strut dramatically to. (Bonus points if you make eye contact with strangers while mouthing the lyrics.)

• A podcast so you can arrive with “fun facts” no one asked for.

• Or, just rehearse your fake TED Talk in your head. (Topic suggestion: “The socioeconomic inequality of living three minutes vs. 25 minutes away from campus.”) 

Of course, there’s a fine line between healthy distraction and full-blown disaster, as one student learned the hard way:

“But don’t lose yourself. I was watching a show—not even music anymore, [because that isn’t enough] for such a long and treacherous journey)—and [I] laughed my way there…until I saw it was 0755 and I was still at the bakery.” — Easily distracted commuter

Step Four: Nature vs. You

The moment you step outside, the heat hits you like a physical wall. On days like these, the weather is definitely not your friend. 

Your choice is simple—wear SPF or suffer. You’ll walk into class looking like you ran a marathon in the Sahara. Sunscreen melts, backpack sticks to your shirt, and classmates hit you with the classic: “Why are you sweating?”

Pro tip: For instant shade and protection from the sun’s glare, stash a mini umbrella and sunglasses in your bag at all times.

Step Five: Focus on the Journey, Not Just the Destination

The walk doesn’t have to be a punishment. Make it earn its keep:

• Stop at a bakery and buy a pastry you 100% don’t need. (Fuel for the journey, also known as butter and regret.)

“But it has to be before 1630, or else there won’t be anything left. I learned this the hard way when I finally decided to reward myself, and the shelves were basically empty.” — A hungry commuter

The moral of the story: procrastination is the enemy of good pastries. Plan your self-care accordingly. 

• Take a weird alley to “save time” and get mildly lost. 

• Stop to dramatically drink water like you’re trekking the Sahara.

Step Six: Know Thine Enemies (The Tunnel and The Stairs)

Just when you think you’re safe, two obstacles appear to test your will to live.

How to Conquer the Stairs (A Not-So-Extensive Guide)

1. Pace yourself. Sprinting will land you in the ER. Slow and steady means survival.

2. Strategic breaks. Pretend you’re “admiring the view” when really you’re just catching your breath.

3. Motivational soundtrack. Nothing powers you up like Miley Cyrus’s The Climb.

4. Reward system. Promise yourself a snack from the cafeteria at the top. Bribery works.

Step Seven: If All Else Fails, Buy an Electric Scooter (...or Just Get the Bus Card?)

Why build character when you can build speed? Sure, it’s cheating—but so is living three minutes away from school. Just try not to mow down pedestrians on the way. Or, you know, be normal and get the bus card like everyone keeps telling me to. (But where’s the drama in that?)

Final Boss: Arrival

You made it. You survived. You didn’t even contemplate hitchhiking with a passing Vespa. Take a bow, hero. You’ve done what many can’t: shown up to school on time, with functioning legs, and maybe even a pain au chocolat. (Yes, you’re still sweaty. No, don’t hug anyone.)

The Takeaway

The long walk to school isn’t just about endurance. It’s about suffering loudly enough that your friends with 3-minute commutes feel guilty. One day, when teleportation is real, you’ll look back and say: “Wow. I actually walked. Like, with my legs.”

Until then, lace up, roll your eyes, and march on.

Photo Source: William Murphy, Wikimedia Commons