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And so to the Olympics. Go for gold! Try your best! It's not the winning, it's the taking part that counts! Jump over that metal pole! Throw that heavy stone! Run faster than that other guy, even though no one even cares because Usain Bolt has already ran faster than you by 12 seconds and is already hilariously dabbing in a pic with Prince Harry! There is something so inspiring about the Olympics, where the greatest physical specimens in the world push themselves to the absolute limit of human endurance. And mildly related: I thought I too would push my body to the absolute limit of human endurance. But not by running or jumping or fencing. By pushing a bunch of McNuggets into my mouth and hoping I wouldn't die.
See, Olympic athletes live like monks: a life of pure abstinence, of early nights and cryonic recovery, of protein shakes and vitamins. Eat, sleep, train, repeat—reps on reps on reps. And then they get a bronze and their Olympics are over, and they realize the last four years have been for nothing and, as in the case of Australian athlete Sawan Serasinghe, have a gigantic badminton-fueled McDonald's blowout to celebrate freedom from the yoke of athletic pursuit. This. This was the kind of Olympic triumph I could emulate.