It sounds all perfectly above board, the idea of ‘boosting’, as if it were no more sinister than taking a Berocca tablet of a morning. But when Paralympians with severe spinal cord injuries require a boost in adrenalin, the interventions tend to be a little more drastic. Some might try clamping a urinary catheter, to produce a painfully distended bladder. Others are tempted to tighten their leg straps to excessive degrees. In the most extreme cases, athletes even deliberately break a big toe. Such are the realities of life at the ragged edge of performance enhancement, where the desperate are forced into a form of doping without drugs.

The nihilistic view is that this practice confirms every worst suspicion, that it not only runs contrary to the essence of Paralympism but that there is no longer anything in sport we can trust. On the other hand, it does illustrate how the Paralympics have, albeit perversely, come of age. Where once the event was purely a smorgasbord of stories attesting to the wonders of human resilience, it has grown to the point that competitors crave less a sympathy for their fortitude than a respect for their sporting prowess. And just as the quest for excellence intensifies, so too does the pressure to cut corners.