The floor disappears beneath you, yet you soar momentarily, defying gravity's pull. A brief escape, a joy on springs, often seen in sports or recess but not for the faint of heart.

It'll be too easy if I tell you about me directly, so: Change my second letter to E, and I'll become a holey object people use to catch things. Change my second letter to O, and I become something heavy, but backwards.

With swift feet on a track, I chase the wind, competing with time. I'm a marathon of motion, a sprint of speed, yet I can be a software glitch or a nose's drip.