Riding a bike is something you can do without thinking. But, since going on a Safe Cycling Seminar in June, I have actively given thought to how I ride.

I’ve been assiduous about cupping my fingers over the brakes in traffic. Having your fingers at the ready means you can stop fast when, say, a taxi door is flung open in your face. It also actively reminds you to keep your eyes peeled and your body poised.

Last week I did part two of the course: the on-road training.

This is a one-hour, one-on-one session with Jared Spier, who heads the Oxford Cycle Workshop Training.

He talks you through various junctions and maneouvres, then follows you to assess your performance. Like a swotty kid who thinks he’s gonna get 100 per cent, I rushed it. Jared’s verdict: “The only problem is you’re over-confident.”

A lot of experienced male cyclists are over-confident. Maybe it’s the testosterone. Perhaps because I know I can get out of most situations, and I’m not too worried about heavy traffic and buses, and I can move fast with the traffic, I take slight risks.

We started off at the training centre in Glanville Road. I was on my racer, with Jared shadowing on his wife’s bike. I could tell whether or not I’d lost him by the dreadful crunching of his gears. At Cowley Road I slowed without stopping, looked right, left, right, then turned quickly right into the road.

Some days are like that: your cognitive processing speed is high and your legs are whirring. Cars were approaching in both directions but they weren’t going fast and the turn was safe, but Jared’s point was: if you cycle fast like that all the time, you will have some collisions. (It’s true, I do.) One day, your brain will be sluggish, you won’t read the road, or your body won’t react as quickly.

I scored better in other areas. Filtering means passing along either side of stationary vehicles.

We got stuck in the usual jams past Manzil Way, so I rode past the traffic on the offside, followed by a mashing of badly indexed gears.

If you’re confident, it is safer to filter here than to muddle along the kerb (nearside), where drivers might pull in without looking.

Cyclists should always be visible and predictable. ‘Visible’ means in a safe position on the road, not dressed in luminous Lycra.

Unpredictable, or unsignalled, turns annoy drivers and make them less inclined to treat you like a vehicle, and more inclined to squeeze past too close.

Down Princes Street and in St Clement’s, we practised taking a straight line past the gaps in the parked cars.

He was preaching to the converted here, but too many cyclists weave in and out. It’s much safer not to, unless the gaps really are long.

I was worried that the swingeing cuts across the public sector would badly affect OCWT. A council that’s juvenile enough to cut speed camera funding simply as a two-fingered salute to the ‘war on motorists’ would surely have revelled in cutting back on such yoghurt-weaving, sandle-eating activities as cyclist training.

Happily, OCWT relies very little on local grants or central funding, and its order books are full. I am constantly asked where people can get cycle training in the county, and it’s vital that training is available. OCWT are the only major provider, and thankfully it’s a service we can expect to survive.