Let me come clean: I'm a sports letch. Footy, snooker, darts, athletics, cycling - basically, anything but bloody boxing - I love watching sport. I punch the air, do a funny little jiggly dance when it gets exciting and swear at the TV like a drunken nun. But now the Olympics are here I didn't expect to become obsessed. It's only Day Four and since I switched on the telly on Saturday morning I've barely moved.
Throughout the entire weekend I sat on the sofa with my feet up on a pouffe. On Day One I didn't stand up for a solid 8 hours. God knows what my kidneys were doing but I think my internal organs went into a sort of fugue state. I had to keep waggling my feet to prevent a thrombosis. I've not drunk the recommended daily allowance of water. I've eaten fruit but only the kind that doesn't involve utensils. Mainly, I've eaten biscuits. Lots of biscuits. On Saturday night I eventually staggered off the sofa to microwave a Sainsbury's Vegetable Lasagne. Reader, it looked like a terrible laboratory accident. On Sunday I got up, ate white toast (for shame! for shame!), flopped down on the sofa and only moved when the call of nature had been reduced to a rather sorrowful keening. And my personal hygiene's started to suffer. Where will it end? By the end of the games I'll have to be winched off the sofa by a small crane.
Now we're on Day Four, and I've just finished watching some judo. Judo! On a Tuesday morning! I'm sitting in front of my computer with the office telly on. I'm meant to be working! Instead, I've just flicked over to the swimming and am genuinely wondering if the guy who says 'take your mark' is Steven Hawking. I've watched archery, dressage, gymnastics (didn't the boys DO WELL!!) and oh, how I longed to be part of Tom Daley's post-dive pool party. Frankly, I'm out of control. And I've just eaten more toast.
I've watched so much BBC coverage it feels as if Hazel Irvine is an old family friend. I want to ring her up and ask her to bring me some soup. Go for a jog with me. Blitz us up a couple of smoothies. But it's not going to happen, is it? Instead I'm careering towards Type 2 Diabetes and bed sores.
Everyone knows that sport is good for you. I'm sure it is. But honestly, it's proving LETHAL for me. I reckon I've probably lost about 6 weeks from my life expectancy already. And we haven't even started on the solo dive competition yet. By the end of the games coverage I'll be lucky if I live to see Christmas.
Please. For God's sake. If you know what's good for you, don't watch the Olympics. It ruins your health.
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