The sun had only been up for an hour or so, but already the sand felt warm beneath his feet. The quiet lagoon was indeed paradise, just as she had said it would be. The waves were barely lapping at the beach, even though he could see much heavier breakers out beyond the reef, and the copse of palm and other smaller trees on the western border of the lagoon was an effective windbreak from what was at least a fresh force four.
He took another mouthful of water from the canteen and then bent down to slip his feet into the running shoes, gently batting any little bits of sand away. He enjoyed the ritual of even little things and putting on his trainers was no different; these were the last few habit-formed things he would do before he would indulge in another daily habit.
Feet safely ensconced he took one more slug of water, placed the can on the ground and walked down to the wet sand. Once there he picked a spot to run to on the eastern side of the lagoon and began to put one foot in front of the other; to run.