I made it to the lovely lido for the early morning swim.
Farewell personal failures, hello freezing bollocks.
The immense sense of achievement and inner GRIN all day was worth being confronted with the icy waters of Lake Brockwell.
Actually it wasn't that bad.
A water temperature of 6.7 degrees is not as harsh as it sounds.
I had protection from my fancy new aquatic gloves for the first time. They leak water through the wristbands, leading to a sensation of swimming with a couple of large water balloons once you reach the end of your first length.
The plan was for ten lengths; I had to opt out after eight. Time and tide was counting down and I had to be at a school assembly in SW9 for 9am.
The 'inconvenience' of the wetside changing rooms undergoing renovation yet again was tolerated.
The gym bunnies next door get a far better deal anyway with private showers and paid for shampoo.
I didn't have time to arse around in the spa with the rest of the Icicles. Hopefully the weekend will allow a little more pampering time.
And then it was the short ride back through Brixton and on towards the ever smiling Somewhere in SW9.
Except the atmosphere was slightly reduced. A terrible, terrible personal situation took place for a member of the school community over the break. The staff and pupils all appear to be coming to terms with this remarkably well.
We had few tech woes with the school set up. iPads are being rolled out at great speed. Yet still some old clunky laptops are needed for some tasks such as printing.
It's a bloody pain spending half the lesson waiting for a museum piece to actually fire up.
There was no such waiting game to play for Year 11 PE. I was introduced to the delights of tchoukball. I think that I got a little too competitive and started to fantasise that I was once again King of the Korfball Court.
Dream on, Jase. Dream on.
The working day finished with Camera Club.
We helped the lovely Year 8 students to explore the school iPads, and to look for interesting subject matter around the school.
No shortage of photo shoot locations.
This somehow turned into a portrait session.
Boy Y convinced me that I was perfect photographic material.
The end result was disappointing for me.
"In my mind I have a full head of hair," I explained.
"Yeah, but not on top," added Boy Y.
Oh - and getting a little tearful about the lovely lido tomorrow morning.
And so it continues.