Andrew Triggs Hodge may have swapped his rowing Lycra for a smart suit, but he still looks like Tarzan as he perches beside the Grand Union Canal, that distinctive blond mane dancing in the wind.

At 38, Hodge remains broad-shouldered and fresh-faced enough to blend in with the other superhumans at Caversham, British Rowing’s Berkshire base.

But he insists that the Tokyo Olympics were never a serious goal. “One thing I was looking forward to,” he says, “is being able to sit on the loo in the morning without all my muscles screaming at once.”

Hodge’s retirement – which he formalised this week with a statement on social media – certainly leaves a gap. But British rowing has bigger problems to worry about. Of the 13 men who took gold in Rio, eight are no longer with the programme. The wastage rate is symptomatic of rowing’s unique position – a stellar performer in Olympic terms, free of the stink that is now hanging around cycling, but also a sport without a true professional structure.

“After Rio I thought we were set fair,” Hodge tells The Daily Telegraph. “We had an incredibly strong team, and the most unusual thing was how many young winners there were. Stan Louloudis, George Nash, Paul Bennett – they are all in their mid-twenties, all fantastic rowers.