Having spent most of a rather nice day in trains or coffee shops, once it got dark I realised I really had to get out and do my bit if I had any hope of moving forward my mission.
And thus did I find myself running along Brighton pier and back, with my over-fit barely-noticing-she-was-running friend who thought we were going on a baby holiday ... but seemed remarkably positive about the suggestion that the very first thing we should do once we had found our room was to go jogging. Some people are strange ... I guess that's why we love 'em.
Anyway, according to the clock on my pedometer we managed just over 20 minutes of jogging, which was further than my "minimum" plan and therefore all good. At least it probably burned off at least one-and-a-half mouthfuls of the rather indulgent burger and wedges consumed earlier in the day.
And thus do we have day two anyway. And now I'm blogged as well. Ha. That's almost 1/15 of the way there (yes, I know, practising my numeracy as well, whatever next in this endless cycle of self-improvement ...).
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