Last night's golf league was brutal. Not only did I play poorly but the weather was rough: hot and humid. I drank two Gatorades and still felt like I had a mild case of heat stroke when I got home. My head felt like I was running a fever.
Next week's Tuesday forecast is calling for a high of 99. I do like golf more than I once did, and generally do better than I once did, but playing in virtually triple digits? I'm already trying to think of an excuse to miss. The golf as a whole that is, not just the ball. I've already become quite proficient at that.
To tell you the truth, and I realize we're talking about extremes and not norms with crazy summer temps like that, but I'd rather be on a curling rink in February than a golf course in June. It's easier to warm up than cool down.
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