I'm going to New York. Did you hear that? I'm going to NEW YORK! My friend Charlotte has had the genius idea of conducting her hen weekend in that fabulous city and invited me along. There will be 8 of us or so, some taking young chicks (but not me!) in New York for 4 days. I can't even speak for how excited I am about it all. But it's not til the end of October so I'm sure I'll find a way of speaking between now and then ... in case you hoped I wouldn't!

Plenty of logistics to work out, therefore, with childcare and who does what when in my absence. But none of it is insurmountable. I just need to figure out whether I can really go for 4 days or need to cut it down to 3. I hope the former, obviously; one doesn't go that far across the Atlantic to a place once loves so very much without aiming for the maximum.

In less positive but somewhat more predictable news, my cold seems to be exercising squatters' rights, so it's unlikely I'll be able to do the Autumn Epic this Sunday. I'm in that borderline state where I could do it - but suffer - or I could be wise and ease back into proper training next week. I really want to do it but I'm forcing myself to be wise. My coach (very wise) has advised me against it, and the book I'm currently reading (also wise, and on recommendation from my wise coach), says you shouldn't attempt any race unless you feel 100%. Which means Sunday is a definite no-no for me, unless something miraculous happens between now and then.

I am, however, still going up to Shropshire in order to spend 48 hours with my folks and see Milly and pass on our obsolete baby carseats for the use of her sister's twins. Which will involve some chat and good coffee, with any luck. This will go some way to compensating me for another race missed. Also: Mental note not to sign up for October races next year because the start of the school year means much swappage of viruses; it's stupid of me not to know that already.

It's going to rain on Sunday. Which wouldn't in itself cause me to ditch the sportive but makes me feel somewhat better about it. After all if it was a gorgeous sunny crisp October day I can think of nothing I'd rather be doing than cycling in some good hills. But if it's cold and soaking wet ... well ... the wish-list might be redefined.

The weekend didn't go to plan, but was enjoyable all the same, in no small part because the weather was splendiferous. We didn't make it to the cinema at all on Friday night, since the neighbour's recital went on for much longer than we anticipated, but it was an enjoyable enough evening with plenty of eccentric people to make it entertaining. And certainly no shortage of fine booze, since the neighbour is as much a buff of wine and champagne as she is of piano. I'm not a huge fan of piano music, but it was certainly impressive to be in a sitting room along with some worldwide prize-winning talent. How fingers move that quickly is anybody's guess.

Sadly on Saturday morning - though I set my alarm to make it to the Legs of Steel cyclo-sportive - my resting pulse was still more than 5 above normal and I felt it would be foolish to embark on the ride. I knew I was going to find it difficult to hold back the tempo if I made it to the start line, and I've been told to take it easy so I switched my alarm off and pined for good health. I should have appreciated the resultant lie-in (til just before 7am) but Friday night was disrupted every couple of hours and those last two were no different. I awoke feeling unrefreshed, lethargic, and probably hungover; unwilling to face the day.

But Roj reckoned we should take Jody out to Hillingdon for another morning with the Slipstreamers, and as it was promising to be beautiful weather, it seemed a good idea. Only they were running a club championship time-trial event on the circuit which Jody and a handful of others were not part of, and so she spent the entire 2.5 hours doing drills in an area the size of a swimming pool, instead of doing circuit races of the 1-mile course as we expected. She had fun enough (excepting a few moments of zero confidence), but Roj and I found it a bit boring hanging around. Miles did a few reps of the footpath on his Islabike, practicing his pedal skills, but I think the 20 minutes in the playground before we left was probably the highlight for everyone.

In the afternoon I took advantage of the unexpected free time to visit my favourite hair stylist Gary Ingham who moved last year from Trevor Sorbie to set up his own salon in Hampstead, and who I drag myself to about once every 10 months.

And then I tried and failed to stay awake in front of Be Kind Rewind, but it turns out I didn't miss much and benefited much more from 9+ hours of sleep.

Sunday we spent meandering around Hyde Park with kids on bikes - one of our favourite weekend activities. It was amazing to be out in t-shirts at the end of September but also obvious that leaves are starting to turn and that it won't be long before autumn sets in for good. Miles took a big tumble off his bike and had to be carried and snuggled for 20 minutes before he got the confidence to get back on the saddle; the Cornetto probably helped! Magnanimous Jody wanted to give money to the guy chilling out with his acoustic guitar in the middle of Hyde Park and didn't really understand that he might have been there for fun, not profit.

I'm feeling a bit better now. The cold hasn't gone but it's not as noticeable and I don't seem to be suffering too much from my return to the training schedule this morning. A bit spooky running around the back of Regent's Park at 06:15 today though, in total darkness with no street lights; I think they've got the dawn synchronisation a bit off kilter. I'm determined that my resting pulse is going to be back to normal tonight so I can continue; I've got a really cool 100-mile sportive (the Autumn Epic) coming up in mid-Wales next Sunday and I want to be able to give it my all. Looking forward to heading up to Shropshire - albeit without Roj who is playing the dedicated father (a role he does very well) and taking Jody to a friend's party in London on Sunday while I take Miles to my parents' for a bit of TLC. Also looking forward to see a bit of Milly on Saturday morning for our first catch-up for a while. Should be a lovely weekend providing it stays dryish and my cold vanishes properly.

Ooooh and, before that, the dishwasher engineer is due out tomorrow (disrupting my training programme - grr) to finally fix the damn machine that's been out of action for the past 6 weeks. Just as I thought it was going into competition with Dave's car!

Went training this morning. Not convinced that I'm better but my resting pulse is obviously having an argument with the stuff that's clogging up my throat and my nose. Didn't feel too exhausted on the run though so perhaps my pulse is gaining the upper hand. Or perhaps a half-hour run doesn't give me the chance to feel exhausted. Just hope I haven't perpetuated the cold, from one day of premature training. Certainly feels ambitious to only take 3 days off for a virus, but that's because I'm more used to taking 3 weeks (after at least one week of training in denial, usually). Hmm.

The pool workout was fun. Used my H2o headset last week and it was a) uncomfortable and b) impossible to hear through (poor fit). Needs adjustment so I didn't bother with it today and I felt much better not having to faff around with it all the time. The novelty factor surrounding doing measured pieces in the pool rather than just steady state swimming endures and until it wears off I think I'm just going to enjoy splashy semi-silence.

Tomorrow I've got a short cyclo-sportive in the Surrey Hills which I'm treating as a training ride rather than a flat-out session. Unfortunately it means another early start (was up before 5:30 this morning) after a late night. Tonight we've been invited to listen to the virtuoso students of the piano teachers downstairs doing a practice performance in our neighbour's house. A very unusual chance for an evening of culture which we are following up (because it's not worth getting a babysitter for only 2 hours) with a not-so-cultural trip to the cinema. Luckily the universal panning of Righteous Kill has persuaded us to go and see The Duchess which gets a marginally better write-up. Keira Knightley makes my skin crawl but a review on the radio the other day said that even non-fans will appreciate her acting in this one. I'll reserve judgement until later.

I've had a certain level of success in the 3 mornings I've been forced off training this week. I found a pair of black boots which I love (hooray). So much the better after waiting 3 years to get them! And I've listed 9 items on eBay, none of which are going to earn us more than £15 (hardly worth the effort, one might say). The eBay cesspit is reducing but I'm inevitably procrastinating with the worst of the items; the kiddie chairs that require a good clean-up, the second-hand bike parts and the random electrical goods. So difficult to list honestly. I much prefer selling new labelled stuff where you get exactly what you see (yes I occasionally buy things on impulse and months later come to regret - and sell them at a vastly reduced price!)

Jody's enthusiasm for reading and spelling knows no bounds. She's pestering me to let her do her homework not vice versa. She had 3 books to read last night and stormed through each of them with barely any help, sounding out words like 'couldn't' without a second thought. And then proceeded to re-read them all in the car on the way to school. She's also keen to practice her spelling list (she gets tested on 10 words every Wednesday) as much as possible, potentially because everyone else has been encouraged to write as nicely as Jody, so she reports! I hope the enthusiasm continues as the work gets harder. It's lovely to see how awareness of reading increases - there are little moments of enlightenment each time she works out a new word. It's a whole world of discovery.

Neglected to mention 2 star-spotting events last week: Trinny Woodall having a fag break off Knightsbridge and then - rather more momentously - Tilda Swinton, totally undisguised, wandering down Baker Street.

I've been instructed to take time off rather than train on a cold. Hence the bored blog update on a Tuesday morning while my head is in the gym doing lengths and weights. Tuesdays are my heaviest days though, and I'm tired at the end of them even when I haven't got a cold. So it's wise to err on the side of caution. Wise and boring.

In a minute I'm going to drag myself off to the supermarket, because if there's one thing that can alleviate the boredom of not training, it's doing the weekly grocery shop. I can already see that I'm going to have to go via the shoe shop to see if I can find a pair of black boots (the same pair I've been looking for for two winters in a row). Did you hear that? Winter. Just around the corner already. Can you believe it?

Miles cycled to nursery today on his pedals. Of course he needed the full width of the pavement to accommodate his wiggling, but I remember Jody doing the same thing. It'll pass. He's very proud of his achievement and for now it's an easy way to curtail the shyness at nursery in the morning; "Go and tell so-and-so how you got to school this morning Miles."

There's nothing for it but to start on the epic eBay trail again. We have a whole corner of random stuff in the spare bedroom which is saleable to a greater or lesser extent. Not including a similar amount in the loft. Maybe if I look at it as the money for my new black boots, it'll be motivation. For now it's just a mountainous pile of mess to wade through. Lovely.

Must go and make myself hot lemon and honey. Grrr.

What a gorgeous weekend. The best weather all year and it comes in the middle of September! Is the weather hoping we'll go into winter with good memories of the British summer because of a good send-off? Maybe we'll forget August's deluges after all.

I even wore a skirt on Saturday. This is unheard-of for me. I'm usually a strictly jeans and t-shirts type of gal. But there's something about skirt/boot season that appeals.

I've finally caught my first full-blown bug of the season. Inevitable after the kids have been at school a couple of weeks, and this one has been lurking in Miles for quite some time. Nasty throat and snottiness. So far I'm sticking with the training plan; I'm still doing such easy work that it doesn't feel like I'm stressing my body out too much by carrying on. I'm awaiting a decision from my coach but no reply yet. Hope he's not peeved with last week's issue, which for me has completely resolved. Time is a great healer and I know that the issues only stemmed from misinterpretation of questions. We've all been there though haven't we? - It's pretty easy to come to the wrong conclusion when you can't hear tone of voice. Perhaps I should pick up the phone more after all (although I'd have to ask for his number).

I've now got my gym set up in the loft! So far it just consists of a turbo trainer for my Thursday sessions, and a big (but quiet) fan to create airflow. I might get some weights too but for now I'm willing to fork out for a once-weekly session at the gym as it's a bit depressing to think of holing myself up in the loft too often. I enjoyed Thursday's bike time-trial though. And am encouraged by my results too. I wonder how accurate a turbo computer can be. Hmm.

We took our training to Richmond Park yesterday, as we've done a few times before. I cycled over in the morning and completed my workout with some loops and 16 ascents of the hill (it's not a big hill!) I then took over the kids on their bikes while Roj ran a loop, before we all basked in the sun with some paninis from the café at Roehampton Gate. Miles has graduated to Jody's old Islabike with pedals. He's been riding it pedal-less like a Like-a-bike for a month or so, and now he's accustomed to the feel of it, he's been happy to attempt the pedals. He got the technique straight away, and although he still wanted the reassurance of a hand on his shoulder at times, he was mostly perfectly happy to potter along the bike path in the park. Progress indeed. Meanwhile Jody is gaining in confidence on her bike, to the extent that we need to ask her to slow down sometimes. It was a bit fraught on Sunday since she hasn't gripped the rules of the road completely so at one point we had a near-collision with someone coming the other way who clearly had no kids of her own and was therefore very aggressive as Jody strayed into her path. I wonder if either of her dogs had done the same thing, whether she'd have been as apologetic as she obviously expected 5-year-old Jody to be.

After lunch we lingered around Ham and Richmond with the express purpose of exploring the area a little, and getting a feel for where we might like to continue our housing search. Ham was residential and sleepy; Richmond Hill was glamorous and stunning. On looking at house prices in the latter though, you're looking at 2 or 3 million for a house of 4 or 5 bedrooms so something tells me we might have to settle for something somewhat further afield! The exercise was useful though, and has helped formulate our ideas for what to look for. It's quite exciting to think that we might be moving again in another couple of years and this time to somewhere more permanent. I love where we live but it is a compromise, and one that we're not really willing to accept for more than a year or so.

As well as Miles on pedals, we've had other breakthroughs with the kids this weekend. We've stopped taking Jody to the loo when we go to bed and for the last 3 nights she's kept the bed dry. Lifting her out of the top bunk has been a bit of a trial but the only way we can guarantee she'd have a wee when she needed one. Now we're handing the responsibility over to her, so here's hoping it works out. In a similar vein we have finally worked out a way to get Miles to do his poos in the toilet too. Excuse me for being too visceral with the kids' bodily functions, but for as long as he's been able to wee on the toilet, he's still done all his poos in his nappy while asleep. We tried every method of coercion from bribery to persuasion, all unsuccessful. But for a while now I've had a pretty elaborate Playmobil rescue vehicle kit comprising a helicopter and speedboat. It's been hiding in a box in the loft and on Friday I got it down and showed it to Miles as a last ditch attempt to get him to use the toilet. "If you can do 3 poos in the toilet," I said, "You can have this toy." Well he spent the whole of dinner time with eyes popping out of his head at the prospect of such an amazing toy, and straight afterwards went to the toilet and did his stuff. And since then he's managed to repeat the experience almost without fail and become excited (rather than intimidated) by the prospect. I may be a little premature on both counts but for now, I'm very excited indeed that the kids are making such progress.

Not much planned for this week; more training of course, and hopefully recovery from this bug. A short cyclo-sportive planned for Saturday (to do as a training session rather than a race), but nothing else of note. Except the mending of my dishwasher, hopefully. I even had to buy rubber gloves at the weekend, so that my skin would stop cracking!

I've been having a discussion with my coach these last few days over email (our preferred mode of communication). It began with me questioning - for curiosity's sake and because I like to have as much evidence as possible to support any theory - the universality of running at a high cadence, which is a technique he's proposed I work on. I wondered simply whether it's likely for two people of wildly differing physiques - say a 6' 4" man weighing 13 stone versus a 5' 8" man weighing 10 - to be able to maintain the same cadence and go the same speed? In my mind it's going to be a whole lot easier for the lighter man to run at a higher cadence, and there are so many arguments in running circles of the validity of losing weight to increase speed, that I thought this might be a reasonable line of questioning.

2 days later I feel like a defeatist neurotic pessimist who has serious hang-ups about her size. How did that happen?

I have never seen my height (and, by association, my weight) as a disadvantage in sport. In fact quite often I see it as the opposite. Certainly in cycling I tend to think of it as advantageous to be relatively light weight for the length of levers. And while in running I probably don't have the ideal physique, I know tall (and relatively heavy) friends who buck the trend. I have certainly never looked at myself in the mirror and thought "Oh you're so disadvantaged - you look nothing like an athlete - give up now!"

I'm not a fast runner, and I've been running for about 10 years now so I ought to know! But I'm not horrendously slow either and know I can maintain a decent pace over quite a long distance. I've always wanted to get a bit faster and never really thought to examine my technique so intensely, but I'm looking forward to the potential over the next year of shaving seconds - minutes hopefully - off my personal bests. To which end I am extremely willing - excited in fact - to pursue any technical improvement I possibly can, cadence included.

But my coach has ended up associating the size question with some kind of inner issue, and going beyond a simple pep-talk and instead criticising my negative attitude and telling me that athletes only ever look for the positive in what they do. This too, I beg to differ with. Athletes are normal people after all, prone to disillusionment and anxiety as much as the next person. Strength of mind and positivism are not synonymous. I resent the implication that you cannot be an athlete and a realist (realism by nature involving a little pessimism and scepticism, in my view). And that you have to spend hours in front of the mirror practicing the sort of inane self-foolery that makes my skin crawl: "You can win the London Marathon; You are the most beautiful person in the Universe." That approach is not for me: Whether athlete or not, I am the same person. I might be prone to self disbelief, but I also like to prove myself wrong. Self belief and confidence don't come - for me - through 'talking it up'; only through hard work and proven results. I will never deny my sceptical side because it's part of who I am. Goodness. Only egotistical optimists need apply? Bollocks to that.

Obviously the discussion - though staying polite - has got way off track and I'm now aiming to leave well alone rather than go on making things worse, since each placatory email I send seems to exacerbate the issue. Roj thinks I should maybe leave the psyche out of the coaching relationship and talk to other friends about that; that I should question less what my coach says. And I think he's got a point; certainly if my questions are going to be subject to such misunderstanding. Maybe I should pick up the phone and talk it through with him, but something tells me it might be better to let him have the last word and just shrug it off. Which is taking some work, as you can see!

In other news of failure, my dishwasher is still broken. The part won't arrive until the end of next week so I guess I'm looking at the middle of the following week to get it working again. A month after the breakdown I'm getting bored of washing up.

However, the weekend was very enjoyable. I had a stressful day on Friday managing a host of assorted things in a small timeframe, not least of which was organising cards and presents for the two kiddie parties that afternoon. The first was a school friend of Jody's at Gambado in Chelsea - our first visit and very enlightening. About as close to an indoor fairground as you can possibly get (dodgems, merry-go-rounds and an enormous soft-play area, as well as juice bars, cafe and party tea areas). Since there was a public session going on at the same time, it was easy enough to hang around with Miles too, and let him have fun instead of rushing him out of child nirvana. And I even met a couple of new mums who were fun to talk to while I indulged in delicious home-made chocolate cake.

The next party was a neighbourhood low-key affair with tea and banana bread. Very relaxing. In fact so relaxing it was very difficult to drag myself away in time to meet my parents at the doorstep as they were arriving in a taxi at nearly 7pm, Roj having already brought Golden Hind fish and chips home for all 6 of us.

(The only thing that went seriously wrong on Friday in fact, was food. My food. Friday's training session has to take place before breakfast since I look after Miles all of the rest of the day, but I didn't have time to come home and eat afterwards, and needed to go to Watirose before toddler group in the morning, hence leaving a proper breakfast (apart from a banana and a tracker) until about 9:45am (4 hours after getting up). I didn't have any time for lunch at all, and ended up eating a muffin and a juice at Gambado at about 3pm. And then the salt grinder decided to unscrew and empty itself over my entire dinner in the evening (luckily ¾ eaten already). I felt utterly jinxed! (Food is very important to me).)

On Saturday we abandoned the kids to their grandparents and set off to beautiful Wiltshire for Nick and Abbie's wedding (congratulations indeed) which was very beautiful and lovely. The couple looked beyond happy, and it was very nice catching up with a handful of friends from ye olde days, as well as some new ones (although there were a couple too many "And what do you do? Oh you're a mum? ... Well isn't the weather nice!" moments for my liking). The weather was nice though, with a rare sighting of the British sun at the reception venue, so that we were able to bask in the heat and appreciate the views while snaffling up our champagne and canapés! Not bad!

However dinner was over by 9:15 and we were already yawning our heads off (because we're pathetic party people!) and not looking forward to two more hours of disco (we don't really do disco!) before the bus departed back to Marlborough. So we ducked out early via a taxi and made ourselves comfortable in the rather over-priced Castle and Ball. Only we were lying in a room directly over the bar which was open til 1am and although Roj had clearly drunk enough white wine to pass out in oblivion, it took me a good couple of hours to doze off, during which time I managed to twist my knee and make the rest of the night uncomfortable too.

And then the alarm was going off at silly o'clock (6am) and it was time to drive back to London for the real reason for our early departure from the wedding reception - Roj's 9am entry in the London Duathlon. In glorious sunshine once again, fortunately or I'd have been a very reluctant supporter. I did the obligatory cheering thing and chatted to a friend we bumped into who was also doing the race, and nearly missed Roj on his first bike loop (too busy practicing my panning techniques!) And then I was waiting for him to go past again ... and waiting and waiting and he just didn't materialise. So I started to think of all the things that could have gone wrong; paramedics on the hill; blowouts; pass-outs; who knew what was going on? So I meandered back to the transition area where I finally saw him sheepishly walking his damaged steed back with a DNF (did not finish). He'd got a puncture towards the end of the first lap and unfortunately been rather heavy-handed with the CO2 while fixing it, causing a dramatic and unfixable blow-out. Poor Roj - hasn't had much success with his racing season so far.

So we packed up and headed back to relieve my mum from her babysitting duties (the kids had been good enough, it seems), and to have lunch and for me to complete my 2-hour cycle session in Regent's Park (snore). But it was nice weather and, tired after a few late nights (I also went out for dinner with Rose last week, which was very lovely indeed and incorporated the very best mushroom risotto I've ever had - at Carluccio's St. Christopher's Place), I was quite happy really to just twiddle the pedals - focusing on a higher cadence than I'm used to - and concentrate on nothing more than avoiding pedestrians.

My mum was around on Monday too (my dad was in Belgium on business), which was great. We took Jody to school and I did my characteristic blitzing of the flat for my cleaning girl on Monday afternoon, and then we kept out from under her feet in the very best possibly way; by taking Miles to lunch at the Wallace Collection which we discovered is rather a hidden jewel amongst the Marylebone crush of patisseries and restaurants; a beautiful calm spacious restaurant inhabiting the entire inner courtyard at the museum, with delicious French cuisine (of varying complexity) and excellent service. We passed a lovely couple of hours there, glad that Miles was complicit, and were quite surprised in the end that it was already time to fetch Jody by the time we finished. A rare but well-deserved period of calm and indulgence that, I hope, might be repeated.

My parents left on Tuesday morning and I have since been intermittently struggling with the instructions for my turbo trainer which I need to set up by tomorrow for my 20-minute time trial. I've also had a 400m swim time trial this week, amongst other sessions, as well as a bit of a struggle with this run cadence thing (I feel like a cartoon character when I do it - blurry legs and all - and don't seem to be able to rate above 85 no matter how hard I try unless I cheat on the downhills!) Lots of work to do then, but the new schedule is still novel enough to be interesting. I can see I'll soon have to wear my iPod in the pool though; the water sessions are going to get tedious methinks.

Miles is back at nursery! Summer is officially over! I can't deny a sense of relief that for 3 mornings at least, I'm liberated from the relentless joys of child entertainment. I can let my guilt appease about resorting to lego for the millionth time, or sneaking in a quick blog update while Miles potters about. I can go to the toilet without being investigated; I can go outside without packing a bag of snacks and bottles of water; I can give playgrounds a wide berth; I can train!

For a moment on Monday I thought their colds would cause at-home days this week, but already the symptoms are nearly gone and for the most part, Roj and I have managed to avoid it. They've both been tired, but that's more down to school and nursery than any lingering virus. When I picked her up on Monday, Jody said her day had been "perfect" and her teacher said "She's been great today!" What more affirmation do we need?

And Miles has enjoyed his return to nursery too, although getting him to go into the classroom is like prising a limpet from a rock with a leaf. As we approach the front door he sticks his head into the crook of my knee, wraps his arms around my thigh, and refuses to budge until we hit on the right incentive. Yesterday it was showing Miss Annum his new shoes; today it was asking him to think about what he'd want in his lunch sandwiches.

I am now on day 3 of my exciting new schedule. I can't complain at day 1 because it was a rest day, although that's already more than I would have scheduled for myself, since I also had Sunday off. Yesterday was slightly heftier, with a 1-hour swim that took 1hr 25mins to complete, a half-hour weights circuit, and the usual spin session in the evening (by which time I was seriously flagging). Fortunately I discovered after my swim that my pool is 30 metres not 25, which explains the time it took to complete the sets. I shall be carefully dividing the distance of each set into 30 (more complicated when the pool is restricted to ⅔ or ½ by school swimming, as it often is), in order to calculate how many lengths I should be doing in each set. I'll say this for a structured session though; that 1 hour 25 can pass in the blink of an eye. It's so different from just ploughing up and down endlessly. And I didn't even have my iPod on.

And then this morning - long run day - I did a whopping 30 minute aerobic run (including warm up, cool down and stretch). It was pretty hard finding a loop short enough; even one lap of Regent's Park takes around 35 to complete. But how refreshing to go out knowing that you have such a short workout to do, and that it has been planned that way for optimal results. I would never plan a half-hour workout, unless it was on the back of another one, so it's great to know that it actually works.

I'm so excited about my schedule. I have the Excel file permanently open on my desktop and keep going back to it to look at what I should next be doing. I get one month at a time, so I can't plan ahead too far, but it's interesting to see the variance in volume from week to week when my own schedule would have had me doing approximately the same each week (through laziness and ignorance - I know it's ineffective!) I can't tell you what a relief it is to have the whole thing out of my hands. I can't wait to see progress. I do, however, have a fortnight of testing ahead of me; next week a 400m swim time trial and a 20 min turbo time trial, and then a MAF Test the following week, which will assess my aerobic efficiency. I just hope my turbo trainer turns up from Wiggle before next week, so that I can have it all set up in the loft in time. Turbo training in the attic-gym ... what a delight!

Meanwhile I notice that Lance Armstrong has announced his return to pro cycling next year. Part of me thinks this is an amazing and admirable thing to do; it's true that it will undoubtedly help raise the profile of his fight against cancer, which he cites as his primary objective. And goodness, if he's successful it will certainly be one in the eye for all those people who put an age-limit on successful athletic careers. But I wonder how much of it is just that he is bored with his Hollywood playboy lifestyle. Once a cyclist always a cyclist. I'm sure he will yearn forever for the thrill of the race and the victory. I just hope for his sake that he will be successful because otherwise he'll look a bit like a Paul McCartney ... ageing, past his prime, desperate ...

On the bright side it might add a bit of spice to the Tour de France that has otherwise been sadly lacking these last few years, eclipsed by a slurry of drug-related accusations and suspensions. There must be plenty a pro cyclist out there rubbing his hands together and looking forward to the 2009 season, when they might at last gain access to a chink in the Armstrong armour. Time will tell I suppose, but 2009 will certainly be one to watch.