PEOPLE always put things off until tomorrow, don’t they? Things like ‘I will start the gym tomorrow, do this or do that tomorrow’. Well, I’m not going to put things off any longer. Today I am going to take my bike outside and go on it. This will be the first time I have been pedalling outdoors since late September, so that is a pretty long time for me. That wasn’t long after I had come back from the Alps.

I went out to Surrey Hills, out over Box Hill, the climb which was used at the London 2012 Olympics. It was funny - I had all these doctors calling me, mailing me, and telling me that with a tumour this size I shouldn’t be able to stand. And here was me riding up Box Hill, in this state of denial that there was anything wrong with me.

I am not even going to think about it this time. I will get all my stuff ready, get up, call a taxi and jump in it with my bike. I am Central London so will go to Battersea Park. It is a ten-minute journey and I will try not to think about anything – what might or might not happen. I don’t’ want to give myself time to have that conversation. I will tell myself it is just like riding a bike.

I have been having rollercoaster days. Sometimes I am really high but Thursday and Friday were low. I front loaded the start of the week but having done seven hours of training on the turbo trainer, by the time I got to Thursday I was pretty burnt out. It is soul destroying to be stuck indoors on the turbo when it is blue skies and 18-20 degrees. So the inspiration hit me to get back outside.

It is more of a mental thing. Physically I’m sure I will be okay. But what are the risks? I guess the biggest one is not being able to get on it. That would be devastating. Just climbing on it could be too much at the moment. It is hard enough getting on it in the house. When I try to clip in, my leg might not want to do it.

If someone was around, just a member of the public, they could probably help. But I want to do it on my own. I am always looking to do things myself, although you have always got to have a plan in place in case something does go wrong. The image I have in my head is of me getting there, getting on the bike, pedalling round Battersea Park and everything is going to be fine. But even as I say that, I can feel a bit of self-doubt creeping in. If things don’t go right, and I get angry and frustrated, I try to tell myself I am 13 weeks post-surgery.

But it is good – because I will feel alive. In fact, I can already feel it. While it is a little bit scary, the reward is that adrenaline rush. And it is hard to get that when half your body is paralysed. Once I start pedalling, the adrenaline will kick in and that is a great feeling.

Because for the last few months I have not been able to feel the wind on my face. It is almost like you are a prisoner – in your own house and your own body. All throughout my life - before my injury - I never probably fully appreciated being in that moment. It was always goals, outcomes, rather than enjoying the process. I remember reading something about not just focusing on the top of the mountain. Because the road that takes you there can be a pretty amazing experience too.

The park will be busy with kids and fun runners. They do Park Run there, there is an athletics track, tonnes of park, loads of people exercising. Like any big park in any city, particularly London, it is a bit of green space so everyone flocks there, especially on a Saturday. I am going to get there pretty early in the morning so I don’t look totally ridiculous.

Knowing that the radiation is starting to loom, I know that if I don’t get on it before radiation, I have to acknowledge there is a slight chance I won’t get on it during radiation. Then I would be looking at May until I was back on a bike and I don’t know if I can last that long. I want to remember what it feels like. At the moment I am on the verge of losing that. I tell myself that by 2 o’clock tomorrow I will be sitting on the sofa watching the rugby, feeling great for the rest of the day, having done an hour or so round the park. If I don’t do it, I know will feel guilty and horrible.

You will laugh when you see what else I have got planned for the rest of this year. When I did the Grandes des Alps last year I didn’t realise they also did something called the Race des Pyrenees, which takes you from the Atlantic to the Med. I saw it two days ago, and thought ‘this looks amazing’. You go from Biarritz to Barcelona, it is 800km, the same type of riding, just over the Pyrenees, not the Alps.

That would be pretty cool. I got exactly the same feeling when I finished the Alps when I got my Paralympic medal in London. It is the only two times I have had that feeling and I want to get it again. It is that next morning feeling. The euphoria of feeling ‘I did it’. I know if I ride the Pyrenees I will get that feeling again. It gives me real motivation - to get through this bike ride, to get through this radiotherapy. But if you can’t get on a bike in Battersea Park, you are not going to ride the Pyrenees.