What a weekend this was. On Friday morning, I had signed up to do a 5k run with Melanie, Katrina, and Savannah out near Tygerberg, in Cape Town’s northern suburbs. Mel and Katrina were running a half marathon, so in order for them to be there on time we got up around 5:00am to take a taxi out there. Given the planned physical exertion of the day, I should have probably made wiser decisions the previous night. Here’s that story.
So on Thursday I am invited to go to dinner at Beefcakes with a bunch of people from the little house. Somehow Jessica, Emily, Tina and Courtney had also convinced all the guys to come out with them to this restaurant, which is essentially a campy gay version of Hooters. Even knowing that I had a run in the morning and the last thing I needed to do was drink and eat hamburgers, I agreed to try the place out.
I could see myself enjoying Beefcakes more on a different night, but on this occasion I was decidedly skeptical. All of the waiters were fairly muscular to extremely muscular model types, and at 10pm they all did a show up on the stage and worked shirtless the rest of the night. I was not vibing with the place, as I imagine I would be if I also went to a Hooters or to a strip club- it just doesn’t work with me. Later I rationalized that this was a venue where gay culture was performed and sold, turned into a commodity. This is certainly nothing new, but it just seemed particularly routine and joyless to me, maybe because I had only had a drink or two. Sure, you can take a body shot off a waiter for R300, but I remember when I worked tables, and if I did this at my work I’m sure I would approach it the same way I used to approach wine service: as a time-consuming and vaguely unproductive activity. But then again, I was a shitty waiter, and I know plenty of servers who would use wine service as an opportunity to charm a table and boost their tip. I’m getting off topic.
The next morning I was definitely feeling my ostrich burger. Savannah and I were both not feeling our best at 6am, and it was lucky we had an hour and a half to kill before our race start. We watched the half marathon start, with plenty of impressive and excited runners. And then the 10k started, with runners across all age groups, very fit, looking excited. And lastly it was the 5k crowd, which was a lovely mix of young children, older adults, a whole variety of people. Savannah and I were laughing… it felt like we were in a crèche (SA version of daycare) at some points. The race itself was fun, it was a nice course and I was happy with my performance. It was my first 5k, and really my first running-only race ever (though I’ve done a sprint triathlon) and I was pleasantly surprised to get through it without struggling. I’m also thrilled that I have not had any issues with shin splints, which sidelined me in the fall.
After the race we eventually made our way to a minibus taxi rank and started the long trip back to Rondebosch, stopping in Bellville. I got home, turned things around, and headed out to Clifton to enjoy the rest of the day at the beach. That night I was out with a group of friends, but I totally bonked at 10:30pm like a young child. Still had a great day.
What David Does 