My form was still great. I was prepping for a perfect spiral, and then the thing just sort of floundered and wobbled for a short distance in the air before rolling to the ground. I couldn’t figure out what I was doing wrong.
Before the Great Shift, I could probably toss a football a respectable thirty yards, but this body? I’d be lucky to get it three feet.
I get that I swapped bodies with a woman. She has muscle than I did; her arms felt a little bit like noodles sometimes; but I still shouldn’t be this bad, especially when still doing everything else right.
There was nothing else I could do except for picking the ball back up and trying again. And again. And again.
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