If you're like me at all you've probably hardly left the now flattened cushions of your couch for the past 16 days!
From all the pomp and ceremony of the opening to the celebrated Britain of its close, London 2012 has left us feeling all rightly chuffed about ourselves. Only England winning a world cup (which'll never happen) I cannot see anything on the sporting or cultural landscape even close to eclipsing it.
Not even deliberately not-trying shuttle cocks, masculine shot putting drug cheats or official moaning Italians couldn't ruin these great games.
Naturally it helps when the hosts are racking up the podium apperances along the way and Team GB surpassed perhaps even their own expectations and most definately ours. Plus it helps when the old enemies are languishing below; the French, Germans and yes for me with a tinge of gritted teeth - the Aussies!
Let's face it there's so many great memories of sucess and sadness from not just Team GB but all competing nations that its almost impossible to focus on individual greatness...but this is the Olympics and despite the ethos of Dr. Rogge et al and their spirit of the games diatribe - it is after all a competition.
In the wake of these games, only a day old now mind you, who can honestly reflect on the triumph of those not on the top step? So let's celebrate the celebrated.
For mine only two athletes personfied the true essence of what makes us all feel special about the Olympics and both did it in their very own different and opposing ways. Usain Bolt and Mo Farah became the kings of these games, one by simply destroying all those around him the other by connecting us all with humilty of life and sacrifice.
The Mo-bolt?
Usain Bolt can annoy many with his antics and prize fighter showboating but when you can do what he's done then he can probably get away with it...living legend might be a tad strong a label given who's gone before him or indeed whom may follow but for 10 or 20 seconds (depending on which event) there's no-one who lights up a track in the same way.
Mo Farah, what a guy! A quiet, humble and unasuming family man from a war-torn, impoverish background and now double Olympic champion. Not only did he give us two amazing performances of determination but also the best celebration of the games - the mo-bot was being copied everywhere, even performers and athletes at he closing ceremony. Even better than that shirt ripping, hurdling German tank after he won the discus.
Sure Phelps became the greatest ever, Hoy the greatest Britain, Ainsle the greatest sailor but much of their efforts came from previous games. Without wanting the gloss over those feats in anyway at all it was perhaps the theme of London 2012 'inspire a generation' shows exactly how those efforts are already taking shape across the Olympic family.
Missy Franklin, Katie Ledecky, Laura Trott, Ye Shiwen, Ruta Meilutyte are all names we'll be talking about in future Olympic parlance as perhaps the greatest of their time. Each of them already champions and nearly all of them already more than once in their first of many games.
Another young athlete stole British hearts four years ago in Beijing as a wee-man in tight little speedos took to the 10 metre platform. This time around he did it again as a slightly older wee-man in tight little speedos. You can't help but love the lad, with his back-pack over his shoulder almost as the apprehensive first few steps of the new school year.
To his credit he showed how much growing up such young shoulders must do when carrying the hopes and dreams of an entire nation. Although he didn't win the big one (this time) I can't recall seeing a more excited reaction to bronze, from Tom, the crowd and his team - epitomised in the joyous poolside celebration.
A teenage boys dream come true...and he won bronze too!
Clearly Great Britain had a stormer, as is typical for any host nation. But let's not forget about those who made such an event possible. No-one really enjoys the stuffiness of beuracracy and political beguiling which occurs to curry favour within the IOC. But at worst its a necessary evil that bores wonderful greatness.
In fact without the likes of Coe, Beckham, Wales' and lets face it Boris himself we wouldn't be gushing over how bloody good and perfect we've been. Plus we all need a buffon to make us all look a little less serious and uptight about everything - for that Boris is the perfect foil.
In Beijing he resembled a stunned sheep fluttering the giant flag inside the Birds Nest. During these games he's look confused from the stands, mumbled non-sensically about events, danced like you Dad at a wedding during the opening ceremony and my personal favourite been stuck hanging from a zip line.
'Errr, ummm, ba-ba...is this an Olympic event?'
Having been in the priveledged position of being so close to two different Olympics (Sydney 2000 being the other) I have no doubt what it means to those hosting, let alone the ones competing. The games bring us together, make us happier and push all our darker thoughts and worries to the periphery. And that's what makes it so special, what makes it the greatest event on earth.
So the curtain closes on London 2012 and eyes turn to Rio on four years time. Will they be able to replicate what has gone before us this past fortnight? Who cares! But no doubt we'll enjoy every moment of watching them try!
Goodbys London, goodbye sportsfans!
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