I use to think that skating wasn’t my thing; that was before I skated on a lake. As it turns out, it was only the skating arena I couldn’t grapple with: that acrid smell of stinky gym bags and greasy hot dogs, intermingled with the scent of Axe body spray and stale cigarettes.
Sometimes all it takes is revisiting an old, passing interest and switching up the context a little to allow for a new (better even!) experience.
John has good form.