What? Me?
Oh, after this?
Yes.
But it was very, very hot.
I got to the place early, and having heaved my car door open into the thick, still, Green Point atmosphere, decided that I would head for the sea (only a couple of hundred metres away) in search of some moving air.
A gentle warm-up (lol!) run along the Prom followed, and there was an occasional breath of air, but it didn’t do much to cool anything down. It certainly wasn’t the fresh, sea breeze that I was longing for. And it was 41oC in the shade: of which there is infamously none on Green Point Prom.
In fact, it was so hot that Garmin gave me a virtual badge for running in it. Although I’m not sure that they should be encouraging anyone to be getting out and about in that sort of heat.
I went for just a couple of kilometres, but the dense, heavy, hot conditions were definitely taking their toll, and there was still a football match to play, and so I headed back for the safety of the footy place, bravely ignoring the option of aircon in my car on the way back through the car park.
We played, and the match was a tight, hot, sweaty, well-contested affair.
Did we win? No. Not in scoreline terms, at least. But just surviving the game, getting to the car and being able to drive home without collapsing honestly felt like at least 3 points gained.
And those are the sort of victories that don’t show up on the league table, but do mean that you are able to show up at family breakfast the next morning.
It’s all about context.