Roses Round the Door in Athelstaneford

Despite leaving the house at 8am this morning for a training run to North Berwick, the roads were already busy with traffic. It's not all that long ago that early on a Sunday morning you had the world to yourself especially if you stayed away from the main roads. No longer.

We went by way of Longniddry, Coates, and the Garleton Hills, through the most beautiful little village of Athelstaneford, where every cottage garden was ablaze with colour, the roses round the doors threatening to deny access, and finally to Kingston and past Berwick Law into the town itself.

With Mr Whippy and his van being absent at the Seabird Centre there was nothing for it but to head for Dirleton before escaping most of the traffic to go back by Fenton Barns and Aberlady.

By that time the traffic in the opposite direction was a constant stream, heading for the seaside. Anyone contemplating a dip in the cold waters of the Forth would have a very long walk to find water deep enough to cover more than their toes, as the tide was well out.

I was reminded of the Tour's hill climbs today as I found my own Mont Ventoux in the shape of a nasty little climb outside Coates where the road surface is pitted and rough making the incline feel 10% worse than it should be, and my bike feel as though it weighed a ton.

There is still a way to go before we feel ready and fit enough for the Semaine at the beginning of next month.