Seven Tenths

You would think that 19 laps on push bikes around the public park may induce dizziness, fatigue and not a little bit of boredom.

Granted, the first two symptoms did in my case present themselves but that is not unusual for someone of my age taking a good bit of exercise after a few weeks of relative sloth.

It is not a tight circuit. At 0.7 miles a lap it is a reasonable distance and with enough variation in the road surface and a few fixed and random hazards to keep concentration high and with that a bit of adrenalin and determination.

At 10am on a Sunday morning the park is pretty busy.

There are a few stragglers making their way home after the night before. Those who did go out for their Saturday social but had a sudden pang of guilt and conscience are jogging and trying to fight back a feeling of nausea.

There is a small collection of outdoor gym equipment in gawdy paintwork on which a few brave souls gyrate, Nordic ski, thrust and pump.

A solitary figure is on one leg and makes various quite artistic poses with flailing arms but I not really sure if he is actually doing any recognised form of meditative exercise. He may just be drunk or high and has an urge to stretch and marvel at the sunlight through the park trees. He seems happy enough.

One parked car has self adhesive signage in the back window advertising a ladies only fitness instructor. Nearby one thin energetic muscly female and three less energetic but determined chubbier ones are moving around a series of cones in an organised routine with hand held weights and medicine balls followed by groaning sessions as they lie down on thin foam mats on the dewy grass legs raised.

On the opposite side of the park it is American Football practice with large and stout males with over the head shoulder pads practicing short play tactics with a fair amount of the posturing and attitude of their sporting heroes.

After a wind blown night a few mums and dads search around for fallen conkers in preference to the labour intensive process of lobbing large sticks into the lower boughs of the horse chestnut trees. The accompanying children are excited in finding a spiky green body but underwhelmed by its contents, however fresh, glossy and smooth.

The trees around the edge of the road on which we cycle are looking in a sorry state from the early autumn battering . Our tyres crunch through the remains of crushed conkers. On occasion we can feel the impact of a conker as it is released in the gusty breeze and hits us directly or bounces up into our spokes.

For the first time since, I cannot really recall, one enterprising and entertaining parent is running along having launched a small traditional kite. A small dog chases at his heels and a child is either laughing or crying at the situation. Laughing because the whole thing looks very comical. Crying because only the dog and the man are really having the fun.

In the strengthening morning sun the café is open and its outdoor tables are already taken up with readers of the papers taking slow sips of their teas and latte's.

The reptile house has just opened by the lake. It is not a very inspiring building but those passing through the exit chatter with delight at what they have just seen in the form of lizards and tropical fish. It is quite a little treasure and its own humid micro-climate is welcoming on a sharp September day.

The statue of Queen Victoria in white marble is perhaps the most flattering representation of that great monarch who always seems to be depicted in a dour and dark pose in other civic settings.

Noises are increasing from the large children's playground now fully accessible after the park attendants have cleared away the usual accumulation of drinks cans and fag ends which materialise as if by magic every morning.

This is the setting for our 60 minutes of fast pedalling around the park circuit. We blend in quite well with all the activity. I think that hardly anyone noticed us at all.