I awoke today with a lower body full of muscles that were not speaking to me and two medals by my bed.
Yesterday was a great one. I could try to be modest, but humility cannot be worn well by everyone. It certainly doesn't go well with gold ;)
My victory on the badminton court was a landmark in my personal battle with this kidney failure nonsense. A day of taking and holding control over it and laughing in its face.
The matches that lay before me at the start of the day were minor compared to some of the head-to-heads that were highlights for the spectators, hell for those involved, but I got through them and got my reward.
Contrary to the expectations of some glass-half-empty commentators, I did not succumb to Mayo-itis and fold on the big day - perhaps I have a future in motivational speaking, held up as an example to the GAA folk from the county of repeated All-Ireland failures!
To top off the gold, there was also success in the doubles and this was almost sweeter because it was shared with another Irish contestant and also by extension shared with her lovely family.
It's been a long time since I managed to stay up and awake for almost 18 hours, but yesterday something overcame the tiredness.
I suspect it was something like joy.
While it seemed that all the action was at the badminton courts yesterday, the cycling was also taking place and the Irish had much success there.
Today I met Tom Metcalfe who had the privilege of being presented with his medals at the end of the 5k and 20k races by his 92-year-old mother.
This week is as much about the families of all of us as it is about ourselves. They have been through the worrying, and time spent in a waiting room, fully conscious of passing minutes must surely be worse than being 'under', unaware of the move of the scalpel across your skin.
They may have to remain on the sideline in the last few days, just as they have sat by our beds in the past, but their being there has as always been enough. It has been plenty.