It was cold at quarter to six this morning. A bit too warm for anything other than shorts and vests though. I had added another layer - my crisp packet thin wind-proofs - and by the time I got to the first rise of the Seven Sisters I was ready to chuck 'em off. But, as the right 'onourable Naylor says, you have to keep warm so the body can concentrate on keeping moving.

The blank and black cliffs were thrown up before me and the ocean was illume'd by the moon. Some stars were still out but the sun was due to rise, and as it did it became less likely I'd out my foot in a rabbit hole. Last week I stepped on a rabbit on my long run. It bounced off like a weird ricochet, hopping vertical and sideways at the same time.

An early ferry in the distance, returning from Dieppe to Newhaven Harbour.

There is a lighthouse on the eighth of these Seven Sisters, but it wasn't doing it's thing. The sun lit up the cliff edges as I turned north away from the sea and back towards the forest. Down to Butchershole, up Snap hill and all the way up Charlotte's Bottom.

9.3 miles continuous, eight hills - some of which I ran up - and home in time for second breakfast.

Above is the Seven Sisters cliffs, snapped from Seaford Head some time last summer.