I left the house at 6:25 this morning. All was quiet with just a couple of newspaperboys sharing the road and the odd car driven by an unlucky soul with an impractical commute ahead of them or an absolute need to be at work early.

I was different. Slick tyres spinning silently, change-of-season chill on my ears and arms, swiftly growing light levels and regular breathing uncommonly loud in the windless air.

I blasted down to Leatherhead and round the one-way system, then back up to Bookham, puffing hard up the shallow valley and secretly pleased with myself to have got out. 25 minutes. 6 miles. That’s all it took, alarm off, kit on, breakfastless but out there.

Back at the house, chest and belly chilled from the cold air but a hot shower and some cereal later and I was ready for work. Blood still pumping, calories still burning but exercise banked before a day in the office and feeling strangely awake.

Is it sustainable? I don’t know, but I’ll see how it goes. It’s not too much to be a burden but far enough to make fast riding a bit of an effort. Just riding along I guess.