Sunday 17th October, 10am

Brighton.

Miraculously I am up early on a Sunday morning. And it’s a beautiful Sunday morning too. Still feeling frustrated at not getting to swim in Dorset the previous day – perfect conditions but no time – I am determined to go before other stuff can get in the way.

Feeling efficient, I decide on another run/swim combo. SH stays at home which means no paranoia and worries about keys this time. My route is about 1k downhill, 3k up and down the level seafront, stop for a swim them 1k back uphill. Total 5k plus dip.

My running kit consists of hand-me-down trainers and t-shirts that should be used as rags but which I cannot yet bear to part with. SH is slightly appalled. It makes me laugh to be just about the only person I see not sporting either the white lines of an ipod or clean, new designer label clothing. I guess I look pretty scruffy but that’s what a few years in West Dorset does to you, turns you a little feral.

The sea was calm, flat, beautiful in the sun. Plenty of people appearing post-breakfast and a few making it to the beach but still no other swimmers. The heat from a run seems to make me temporarily immune to the water temperature and it just feels such an amazing luxury to be able to slip under the surface and immerse. The water must be getting cooler as I start to feel a bit chilled after only 10 minutes. So its back to the beach to start the ascent home.