Friday 5th Jul

Well maybe summer is back, it’s a bright sunny morning with no wind, and so I’ve no excuse not to take the bike out. Having fed the family and waved them off to school and work, I wait for the early traffic to die down and then pull on the lycra. Out of my front door I turn right, which means uphill and my legs, (specifically my thighs) are burning before too long. I carry on and am soon on a cycle way off the main roads, cycling past farmers’ fields and hedges. Then it’s back onto the roads again before I hit the cycle path down by the estuary, long and flat, with some beautiful views, these are the good points. Dogs and to a lesser extent walkers are the bad points. I dutifully ring my bell to alert walkers I’m approaching and this morning all are OK, it’s when you get the deaf one’s that you have a problem. As for the dogs, excited to be off their leads they dash out in front of me, causing evasive action to be required at times.

I stop briefly twice for a drink of water and as I near home after over two hours in the saddle, I have the perennial question. Do I take the long way around down the fairly flat mile straight road with traffic, or the quick route up the very steep short hill? Given how my legs are, today I take the long route. A couple of years ago when I was cycling regularly this wouldn’t have been a debate, and I feel I really should get back to that. The more I cycle the easier it will get, and the more I’ll enjoy it, no excuses.

The eldest is home for lunch as it’s a half day and we sit together in the garden. Her eating last night’s left over pasta for lunch, me her sandwiches from the last two days. It’s definitely waste not want not in the Perry household. I then get the bathroom cleaned and do a spot of pruning and edging in the garden.

After tea the youngest is playing cricket and the eldest is off out to a party. Fortunately the eldest is being taken and brought back by friends. Mrs P and I go to watch the youngest play, but as ever with cricket you end up watching a lot more of other people’s kids than your own. But it’s a pleasant evening to be out, and Mrs P gets home in time to watch Andy Murray win his Wimbledon semi-final. At 11 o’clock as we’re lying in bed we get a text from the eldest saying she’s leaving her party, at 11.30 she’s dropped home. So there is no chance of an early night for us, and I think she’s out again tomorrow evening. Oh for a restful weekend.

Yours not quite Sir Bradley Wiggins.

Jay