A year ago today (15/10), I received the offer to go to Rio 2016 for the BBC. I recall having a rather strange reaction to the email and deliberating slightly excessively over how to respond 'yes' while striking the right balance of excitement/enthusiasm and professionalism, ever emotion was trying to send some all-caps OMG-laden ball of shouty elation.

I'd had a vague idea that I'd probably be off to the Olympics since January 2015 (the 16th, fittingly), but there was the overwhelming fear that it would just fade away and not pan out. Even after getting the actual booking there was still a perpetual dread that it would be cancelled, or some clerical error would see me somehow dropped off it (which would continue up until the briefing in Quay House this May).

Expect a more thorough reflection on the Summer in the next week or so, but until then I think reflecting over my reaction to the events preceding the point at which I could say without any hesitation it was actually happening, boarding a plane in Heathrow (which was filled with Olympians - including the rowing team!), I've perhaps become a bit too pessimistic and cautious over good news and opportunity, maybe as a result of my pursuit of an industrial placement in 2014 (which I'll discuss another time).