An early morning appointment with Rasheed, the Demon Barber of Brixton underneath the Academy.
The poor fella was struggling with a heavy cold. He still provided the best haircut I've ever had at 7am.
What could possibly go wrong with a No. 1 all over?
You'd be surprised at some of the horror shows that other have inflicted on what remains of my hair.
I then had a stiff bicycle lock.
The stiffness of the lock is the best barometer for measuring the temperature.
If I'm stiff, then it's chuffing cold out there.
I nervously rode on through Brixton, lovely lido bound.
To my surprise the water was still relatively high at 7.7 degrees. I expect this to sink over the next couple of days.
One after one, the Icicles returned to the male changing room, red flesh and shaking uncontrollably.
I was playing the long game, hoping that a delayed transformation from suit to rubber would increase the water temperature.
I was wrong.
But it was a bloody good swim.
I promised myself four lengths of Brockwell Blue.
I managed six.
Strangely it was my teeth that felt the cold the most. The water penetrated through with each half-gulp as I went through my freestyle motion.
And then it was:
I've switched around some school days. I was seeing the same lovely kids carrying out the same lovely activities around each school.
I've resorted to random (ish) guerrilla school timetabling.
It all meant that I actually had a little longer in SE17 than I usually do. The pace of the day helped me to achieve what I wanted to.
The highlight had to the Year 6 fractions party. I confess to getting the party started with some Dad Dancing, whilst wearing a post-it note slapped on my forehead saying 14%.
I should try that next time I hit the clubs.
A very decent end of day work conversation with a colleague who is managing the school Digital Leadership Team.
Often these projects are just all talk. This looks like being real action.
Good effort, Madam.
A brief cycle back to Sunny Stockwell, some online catching up, and then I cycled off to Waterloo for the February Critical Mass.
Still We Ride.