We were about a quarter of the way through boot camp this morning and I was already dripping sweat, beetroot red and generally begging for the sweet embrace of death.
"Right!" barked the instructor, "I want you to get into pairs. One of you is number one and one of you is number two."
"Do you want to be number one or two?" asked my partner in suffering.
"I'll be number two - because that's what I feel like."