A tiring day and a rant

I’m feeling a bit sore today in more ways than one. Yesterday I played a match-play singles competition and won (hooray!) but only after two extra play-off holes (groan!) which left me aching like an old warhorse. As a result, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to get up at crack of dawn to play a monthly Stableford today, but the weather for once was totally gorgeous so it felt like a good idea. I didn’t do particularly well, but nor was it a disaster, and I did have the satisfaction of getting a bit of sun on my horribly un-golf-chick-like legs. (Though I have spared you a photo of same.)
I also got down for five on the eighteenth (a testing par 4 with a lake lurking close by) which, considering how weary I was feeling, was cause for a small celebration.
What took the edge off my fragile confidence was one of my playing partners (a gentleman of more mature years than me) immediately lecturing me on the deficiencies of my swing. Well, I have no illusions about its imperfections, but hey, I have recently clipped three shots off my handicap and this guy has one of the worst swings I have ever seen (and I have seen a few), practically falling over every time he hits off the tee. I also saw him take at least two air shots and as far as I can remember he only hit farther than me once or twice in the entire round.
As I was indebted to them for having me along at all, I had to smile sweetly during his no-doubt well-meaning observations, but I’m hoping this rant will get it out of my system. I’d hate to find his words of wisdom taking over my swing thoughts next time out!
Meanwhile I am treating myself to a lager and preparing to have a quick snooze (oops), I mean watch the golf from Carnoustie. That should take the edge off my pain, mental and physical. (Though it won't do much for the legs.)