On a day of feeling worse on the path to getting better.
And on a day of watching the best batsman in the world take on the fastest bowler in the world. Smith v Archer. Old-fashioned names for men involved in an old-fashioned business. As riveting a sporting contest as I've seen in decades. For a second occasion, just as Smith was threatening to dominate cricket in a way that only Bradman has done before him, he has been pegged back, albeit in an utterly different way this time. It's almost as if no one is allowed to be bigger than the game. I suspect he won't be given permission to play in the next test match, which is going to hurt harder than any of the blows he took today. It will be everyone's loss if he doesn't bat. No one wanted this outcome. No genuine cricket lover, anyway. But there's no denying that it's the possibility of the batsman getting hurt that makes watching genuine pace so utterly compelling.
And on a day when I was forced to miss Ben Rhydding smash Saltaire, who are riding high at the top of the table, having previously lost only once all season. That came out of nowhere. Totally made up for the lads. They've now opened up a little breathing space above the bottom two in the relegation battle.
And on a day when I really wished I had a flatter garden.