Okay. You head in the direction of the mountains and just start walking. For the honour of the team. You walk on for days and weeks, living off the land, and truly contemplating the meaning of the Olympic spirit. For the honour of the country. You enroll a Tibetan monastery, where you can consider the Olympic ideal in isolation. Then, suddenly, thirty years later, you stand up on your atrophied legs, hoist your feeble arm above your bald head, and bellow: For the honour of Coke®! You shave off your long white beard as you run back to the games. Continue! The Olympics are owned by the Coca-Cola Corporation®. Space for the Olympics was donated by YIP.