In my final year of undergrad, I had a plan: go to the university near my house, begin my master’s degree, and eventually do a PhD. It was nice, simple, and straightforward. Not having a ton of people around me applying for graduate school, I wasn’t aware of how big a deal the choice of institution was, nor the fact that some people apply to ten or more schools (often for those looking to go in the US). In my case, I had someone at the local university agree to supervise me, and that was that.

Oh, and as a long-shot chance, I applied to a theoretical physics program in Waterloo, Ontario. I knew I would most certainly not get in, but it was free to apply so I wrote up my application quickly and sent it off, not thinking much about it.

Which is why I was very surprised to hear back from them at the beginning of March, asking for an interview.

The grass is just beginning to dry as the cool air of the autumn morning chills the people jogging along on the field. The place is relatively quiet, with only the sound of foot strikes on the grass and gravel to disturb the morning. Everywhere you look, there is a sense of motion. No one wants to sit still. Instead, people move around in small groups, attempting to stay warm and keep the muscles loose as the time ticks down until the race. The people moving around the course look more like a bunch of layers than anything else; a far cry from what they will look like in an hour. Jogging pants, mittens, and toques are seen on most runners. The only indicator of team unity is a common jacket.