But his humility did not mean he lacked self-confidence. Kyle could not be dragged out on a weekend night if he didn’t want to go. In this way, he showed me how to temper that fear of missing out that freshmen feel so strongly, and that having a goal was great.

We were a very open-door floor. As Jamie the rower put it, the hallway was a catwalk, a soccer pitch, a dance floor, a music studio, a dining table. When you tried to walk down the hallway, there were always legs in the way because some of us were lounging, trying to study, or pretending to play a guitar without really knowing how.

There was a girl who baked cookies in our communal kitchen every single day, the boys who were wholly committed to hanging out in the hallway (usually with pizza), the boy who was determined to become a decent break-dancer. My roommate Thandar rode a unicycle.

We were respectful toward, and amused by, the things we were trying to do, even though on any given night, we slumbering athletes were liable to be awakened at 2 a.m. by a half-naked floor-mate who had lots of fun that night.

Now a professional long-distance runner, I often spend time alone, sometimes with just the leaves. Leaves are great, and I love how they change, but leaves don’t change like people, and especially not like college kids. People change in ways that are subtler and also more obvious than leaves. During our freshman year, it was thrilling to see how our Fahey floor evolved. Some people quit their sports and activities and long-distance relationships and major goals.