So yeh, I always used to run and jump around as a "kid" (I'm only 22 and one half years old now, so not old, but not a "kid", per se). In fact, I won gold and silver at boro sports. So yeh. When I was ten/eleven, I could jump (from standing position), around six foot. By aged twelve, I could jump (running jump/long jump style) around fifteen feet, as I recall.

I was out just now, and thought, "I really wanna know how far I can jump".

I thought a running jump on concrete would be a particularly stupid idea. But what's stopping me from a standing jump?

But you know what, try as I might, I couldn't do it. It was a quiet street. No one was about. And yet I couldn't do it.

I was puzzled, but not because I didn't know the reason. I know the reason. I was ashamed. Ashamed to jump down the street. Even tho I wanted it badly. I was ashamed someone would see me and I would look idiotic.

And that's what "growing up" is, if you ask me. One day my mind will rebel and do away with these urges to jump cos I know I can't. And that is basically the final step in becoming a boring old fart.

Prevention is better than cure, as they say, and the first step in prevention is awareness of what will and won't cause an ailment's onset. Here's to hoping I don't succumb to the old age bug.