At long last, I am the first Briton to ever think that the weather seems to be conspiring with my needs. This is a satellite image of the UK under the current frosty spell. The snow is no longer such an annoyance, now that I have a bloody good reason to be jumping in it. I can't wait for my Arctic race kit issue, snow proofed boots will certainly prevent a recurrence of my currently sodden and frozen feet.

I've just about acclimatised to the temps. The key point is to let your muscles relax in order for the blood to flow, or at least that's what my boyfriend keeps telling me. Of course, in one week I'm going to be in Hjerkinn, Norway with temperatures of minus 20 C. So I can't really be seen to be bitching about a relatively tropical 0 C, can I?

I'll just moan internally then.