I have just made a vain attempt to touch my toes. After an uncomfortable and probably ill-advised bout of spinal bouncing, I’m convinced I grazed a hair on my ankle whilst suffering the sort of shock to the nervous system that only prolonged exposure to the music of Black Lace can give you.

My expectation was to wake up, lean down and touch my toes with the grace, poise and balance of a 1970’s Romanian gymnast. In reality this morning’s exertions were more akin to a man trying to violently self-fellate, whilst rocking out to Metallica’s ‘Enter Sandman’. Elegant it was not.

Hmmm. This wasn’t quite the start I was hoping for in my (probably vain) attempt to represent Great Britain at the 2012 Olympics, here in London.

From a base of zero talent I’m going to try and identify an Olympic sport which I have enough skill in to give me a chance of – even if it is just a single percent – representing my country in. If it seems ridiculous to you, it’s even more stupid and naïve and ridiculous in my head.

Over the next four years, and who knows, perhaps longer, I am going to chart every movement I make in video, text and picture as I rip my body into pieces for no discernable gain, to see if this is an experiment that could, just possibly work.

Hi, I’m Dan and welcome to potentially, the most spectacular failure of all time.