Graceful. Gliding. Effortless. Precise. Powerful. Poetic. Beautiful. See, these were words going through my head. I was watching the Olympics. Hurdlers, actually. A special breed, the hurdler. They are like no other. Don’t categorize them with track and field athletes. No, they belong in a special grouping of adventure-seeking sportsmen. Like hunters who wrestle bears. Motorcyclists who jump through rings of burning gas. Snowboarders who race avalanches down mountainsides. You know, idiots. But in a good, thrill-seeking, “hey-look-my-pants-are-on-fire” kind of way.