Without wishing to tempt fate, this week's training is going reasonably well so far - in other words, no new injuries. 5 miles on Monday night at the gym. (Really starting to hate the treadmill but wanted to use the other equipment too) and 9 miles last night.



Early summer finally seems to have arrived and running along the beach road last night was gorgeous. The sun was setting and the sky was pale pink to the east and streaky yellow and blue to the west.



Everyone was out in force yesterday - dogwalkers, rollerbladers, cyclists, five-a-side footballers on Hove Lawns and scores of other runners. There was a nice breeze and I managed to run all the way from home to the marina, up into Kemp Town and down along past the Level to Spock's house without stopping. Picked her up and we did a couple of circuits of Preston Park (excellent speedy downhill track at the end of each one) before heading back to hers to watch the Apprentice.

That awful, creepy, completely non-self-aware Paul "there's no-one like me!" bloke was booted out. Hooray. Apparently he's only 25. Unbelievable. Looks about 125.