Cycle paths - don't you just love 'em.

The bed pulls a bit this morning. Two bike and swim days together with squash last night have taken their toll. Although I think L is struggling more than me, it's all that power walking. I consider taking advantage of her delay in getting up but it would hold-up both of us even more.

It was in the paper this week that apparently people who have sex twice a week or more want to give up work. Presumably that is so they can have even more sex. Although that must be almost everybody because twice a week isn't very much is it, it's practically monastery territory. Whereas people who don't get any, work longer hours to compensate. Rather than the other way around, in that they don't get sex because they work long hours. The report didn't mention the fat layabouts who don't do either.

Despite feeling totally knackered I still ride in and it goes ok, despite the fact that it started raining on me, not much but it looks like it might get worse.

Squash opponent emails to say he had the best nights sleep since moving house and he's fighting hard not to reach the conclusion that it had something to do with doing some exercise. I think indirectly he's thanking me for giving him the run around last night. Glad to be of service.

Says he fully intends to get fit and help me with my triathlon fitness. With his help and a bit more effort, he says, I might even be able to beat a girl. Oooooooooooh bitchy.

Funnily enough that had something to do with why I came to work on my bike again today. Don’t intend to lose out in a sprint finish again. Particularly not to a girl.

While surfing some doggie websites a photo of a cute collie pup with a blue eye falls off the internet and on to my desktop. Ooops how did that happen. I email it to L, who is busy showing round photos of a rescue dog called Poppy who she's keen to re-home. She's immediately suspicious that I'm looking at puppy photos while I'm at work and assumes that it's a photo of our 'new' dog. She's not convinced when I deny it.

L's going to need some help de-stressing when she gets home because she's gone on her bike to the physio, so she'll be sampling the delights of the Nottingham one-way system. Can't imagine how much alcohol and sex it's going to take her to recover from that but I'm looking forward to finding out.

On my way home, I extend my bike route. Having seen a cycle path marked towards Kegworth I decide to follow it. It goes well until I come across a gate blocking the route, then one of these concrete blocks that the road works use, then a pile of soil presumably to deter gypsies, then I get lost because of a total lack of signposts. I think I manage to stay on track but then end up cycling alongside the A50, albeit on a cycle track. Which then dumps me at junction 24 of the M1 but it's the correct way because I have cycle path signs that say so. All I've got to do now is cross the on and off slip roads of the M1 and all three lanes of the A453 without the use of traffic lights. Errr who says they're not trying to encourage cyclists in this country. Cycle paths - don't you just love 'em.

Spurred on by thoughts of L at home in need of my de-stressing skills I bravely achieve the impossible and cross the roads, waving at the nice friendly red-faced drivers with steam coming out their ears.

After that it's a pleasant bike the rest of the way home and I get up a good speed particularly through Clifton, where the risk of being mugged seemed quite high. I manage to get home without my bike being stolen from under me. 23 miles in 1 hour 27.

Once home it's time to take my personal responsibilities seriously. Still no X though. Never mind, there's always next week. I shall keep looking; I won’t give up.

After giving L a thoroughly good de-stressing, we head down the Plough. Legend. Gone off Banks And Taylor. 2 x Sooty Stout.

Home to Jools who features Bloc Party.