Forget Vancouver. With curling broom and bobsled helmet in hand, we play Olympian at former host cities dusting off their old venues. Every four years, the Winter Olympics roll around and remind us about the glory of sport, the importance of international cooperation and just how nuts you have to be to set foot in a bobsled. And yet here we are, crammed into one with four other suicidal adrenaline junkies, about to crack 50 mph and 3 Gs on an Olympic bobsled run. "Don't hold the straps like that," says brakeman Joshua Hunt. Why? "If we were to crash, you'd break your arms." Oh. And with that, we're off.
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