Olympic hangover

My training has now hit pretty much rock bottom (talk about peaking three months early!) but I provide my current training programme for your perusal:

Left, right, left, right, ow, left, right, left, right, wheeze, left, right, left, cough, ow. (Repeat until knackered i.e 10 minutes).

All positive goodwill and feeling I basked in during the heady days of easy 11km runs etc has gathered up all of its belongings, stashed them in a neat wheely suitcase and toddled off to gate 8 in search of its winter flight to Timbuktu leaving my knackered frame to kick its heels at security whilst I just undo my shoes so that some dog can have a sniff and tell me unsuprisingly that I am not a terrorist operating in the Jersey Al Quaeda sleeper cell.

Sod the drinks I am booking a taxi round the course and have done with it.