Not content to simply disrupt my daily life for two weeks, the Olympics has now post-mortem invaded my dreams.
I was competing in the biathlon. Not sure for which country, but that was probably immaterial as the event started in my high school. Going for the first task ie. the place where real biathletes try to stop panting long enough to shoot at something, our course took us inside a chalet where we had to descend the stairs to the basement. In ski´s. With lots of tourists blocking the way as they were all trying to get to the bar and gift shop. There we took our positions for the task. Which was...
Drying the dishes. Followed by a quick brooming of the surrounding floor which for some reason was covered in leaves. Nicely enough, my cousin MrT was helping out there getting the dishes wet in the first place. A friendly face to keep me going.
What followed was multiple rounds of varying courses, including having to walk up a very thin plank in ski´s while those damned tourists were coming down it and I was trying to yell “I´m competing in the Olympics would you get the hell out of the way!”. After the final round of doing the dishes in a field of rolling green hills underneath a giant power line I realised that everyone was overtaking me and try as I might, I couldn´t get my legs to go any faster. At that point I thought Hey, maybe if I take this heavy boat engine off my back I can go faster. I mean I don´t need it any more ´cause the dishes are finished. Just as I dumped the engine onto the ground and tried to catch up with the woman in blue ahead of me, DrH woke me up to say he hadn´t walked the dog but was late for work, so could I do it?
And here I was, having just competed in an Olympic biathlon and utterly exhausted.