I tried every different position I could imagine. I lay on my back and got myself from the front. Then I'd make a backward bridge and get myself from the top. I got on all fours and then took myself from behind, then turned on my side with one leg in the air erect, like a boomerang. Every few minutes I would come up for a couple sips of cherry CapriSun and to wipe the drool off my cheek, and then it was back to business.

I got out my sleeping bag and lay on that for more cushioning. I turned around on my back and kicked both legs out on either side in a split. I tried a scissor kick while simultaneously probing my two forefingers down the inseam of my pajamas and ended up kicking our friend Kim right in the face. "Ow!"

I looked over and realized I had woken Kim up. "How could you sleep at a time like this?" I barked.

"What are you doing?" she asked groggily. "Everyone's asleep."

There was no time for sleep. This was go time, and I wasn't going to let another formative year pass right underneath my nose, or my coslopus.

Not only did getting "the feeling" feel borderline amazing, I felt like I was really recruiting some unused muscle tissue. My little eight-year-old thighs were burning, and the arches of my feet were cramping. I'd have to throw my leg out like a kickstand to alleviate the pressure, but I was hesitant to take a break. What if I couldn't get the feeling back? What if this was a onetime deal, like a Saturday at the Chrysler-Plymouth Auto Sale?

This is what my phys-ed teacher meant when she talked about "connecting with your body." This is a fucking connection, all right. Instead of doing pointless stretches and dumb fifty-yard-dash drills, we could've been doing a whole different kind of drill that would've achieved the same goals, fitness-wise. Climbing those ropes with the knots on them took on a whole new meaning. I would lodge my coslopus on top of one of those knots, stick my legs straight out, and start groaning. I hadn't felt eroticism like this since I first laid eyes on a Ms. Pac-Man machine, but even that didn't really compare, because at some point an arcade has to close. I was open twenty-four hours a day.