Some Like it Hot

Fiona Thackeray

December 31st had dawned cool and cloudy. Mercifully, for I am a Scot, pale and prone to heat stroke. The 75th So Silvestre Race, South Americas prestigious 15km challenge through So Paulos pollution haze was going to be no fun run. But I had crossed the Tropic of Capricorn to get here; there was no dignified escape now. The weather, at least, was on my side.

By 1pm even the weather had switched allegiance. A pitiless sun stalked Avenida Paulistas concrete expanse. The womens enclosure was a treeless inferno. I hovered in the scrap of black cast by a huge bobbing balloon. ... (continues)