Full of good intentions to make up for the eating and drinking of Christmas, I opened the garage door this morning to find that my beloved Brompton had a puncture in the rear tyre. Undaunted, I walked to the pool. I swam. I wheezed. I have had a cold for the best part of two weeks, and my ability to gulp in air and turn the oxygen contained in it into energy is depleted. After 30 lengths, I dragged my wheezing frame out of the water and under the shower. The good news was that there were very few of the regular early morning swimmers there. I think there were 4 people in the pool when I arrived.

The Brompton puncture was duly repaired when I got home, but I'm in need of serious training. What a wreck!