Victoria Pendleton

People may think I'm crazy, but one of the ways I like to wind down my Friday is to get some of our household chores done, whether it's cleaning or doing a big food shop, so the house is all nice for the weekend.

Early in the 1990s, I flew alone in a dandelion-yellow, single-engine, 180-horsepower Piper Cherokee from Westchester County Airport in New York westward to the Rocky Mountains, landing and refuelling a good many times in middle-sized cities and towns along the way.