Thursday, August 03, 2006
Like a glutton for punishment, or a fool, I just played 18 holes in this heat.
Teed off at Inniscrone at 11:30 this morning, just as the scorching sun was almost perfectly overhead. By the second tee, I was sweating like a pig. By the third tee, I had finished the Gatorade I bought in the pro shop. By the fourth tee, I looked like I'd been shoved in a pool. By the fifth tee, I had sweated through both my golf gloves and was fishing around in my bag for old crinkled, dried-up gloves that I'd never bothered to toss.
Every time I came to a water cooler, I soaked my towel and wrapped it around my neck. The worst of it was when I had to actually get out of the cart and hit a shot. Searching for errant balls in the rough, or standing over a shot, with the sun pounding on my back, there were moments I feared I might spontaneously combust.
In all, I spotted one foursome and one twosome on the course. By the time I left, the kid collecting carts said they'd had 16 players total today. I'm surprised that many people went out.
I drank two Gatorades and a bottle of water. By the end, I was weak and pretty much miserable.
Didn't play that bad, though.