It appears that, after 7 weeks of improved fitness, I have become less capable of leaping through the air. It might have something to do with the persistent state of soreness that I experience after my Monday afternoon boot camp sessions. Hard to tell. I still wish I shelled out for decent kicks. Seriously, those Adidas way 4.3 pounds if they way an ounce.
Unfortunately, this setback was not the most disappointing revelation of the day. Turns out my childhood idols, Siskel and Ebert (What? Who were yours?), hated each other and harboured paranoid ethnic grudges.
Who would have thought that my 1980's suburban childhood would yield such disillusionment later in life?
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