An incredibly cranky King of Clap'ham Common run to start Sunday morning.
That bloody hurt.
The lovely lido wasn't open until 10:30am, with the Windrush Triathlon Club staging their annual race.
Time was tight for me, and so I had to swap the swim for a run.
I was still aching from the Brockwell Park Run of yesterday. Trying to touch my toes - and failing - wasn't a great start.
But I soon found my rhythm.
Clap'ham was incredibly quiet just after 7am.
A peloton of continual cyclists passed me in tandem from Sunny Stockwell all the way as far as Clap'ham Common South.
I've no idea what the event was. The London to Brighton bicycle ride was earlier in the month.
But Chapeau! all the same.
I picked up the pace slightly for the return journey past Clap'ham North.
I passed a wonderfully camp / butch Trannie, still looking magnificent in the make up from the night before, but walking bare footed and carry some high heels along the Clap'ham Road.
Fair pair, fella / Madam.
I had some BBuzz catching up from Saturday, and then I made the short walk down South Lambeth Road for another rendez vous with le Gai Pensionnaire.
People are starting to talk.
Le Gai Pensionnaire was keen to have another Surry Cricket experience.
Aren't we all?
I blagged him a seat in the Member's Pavilion and we spent a pleasurable day together, chatting, watching cricket and drinking tea.
BOOZE just didn't seem appropriate.
I bailed out at the tea interval, and then had a few more chores back in the flat.
And then a cycle across town, and a disgustingly filthy Greater Anglia train back to over there.