Here's me in 2016 -- joking about wanting to learn how to ride a bike. It's an ambition I didn't achieve until 2017, and it took until June of this year for me to actually to it around London.
But if I'm completely honest, riding a bike is never something I thought I could do.
There were lots of reasons why I didn't think cycling was for me. Partly it was fear -- of drivers, of failure, of falling.
Partly it was because I didn't see myself represented in the lycra clad, male dominated cycle culture.
But partly, it was because of my body.
I've always been bigger than I want to be, and I've always been too self-conscious about it.
Over the past few years it's something I've tried to overcome -- trying diets, calorie counting, and all kinds of exercise to try and build a body I was comfortable with.
In lots of ways I haven't succeeded. Like lots of people during lockdown, sedentary days combined with limitless access to the pantry and lots of wine has taken me further away from my goal.
But in lots of ways the past few months have taught me something new: my body is capable of so much more than I thought it was.
I genuinely didn't think I'd be able to cycle with a body like mine. I didn't feel small enough, strong enough, graceful enough.
But I am.
Cycling has taught me that I'm fitter and braver and stronger than I thought, and it's led me to question what other things I might have written off because I thought I wasn't capable. Like, running for instance.
2019 was the year in which I was going to run a 5k.
I downloaded from couch to 5k in secret -- too ashamed at the thought of how people might react to the idea of me running to tell even my closest friends.
"Psssh, this'll be easy!" I told myself, looking at the first week's running schedule.
Run for 60 seconds, walk for 90 seconds.
That's a minute! Who can't run for a minute!
Me, it turns out.
It was incredibly difficult -- but I kept going. And as I progressed further through the program, I gained more confidence in my skill and opened up to friends and family about what I was trying to achieve -- even letting my loving partner join me for runs.
Soon I hit week 6 and the program really ramped up.
The challenge: walk for 5 minutes, run for 25 minutes, walk for 5 minutes.
Terrified, but hopeful, out I went.
And, probably unsurprisingly to you given the topic of this thread, I failed.
So I tried again, and I failed again. And again. And again. And again.
Try as I might, I couldn't get past 15 minutes without getting too tired to go on.
And after a few weeks of this, I gave up.
When lockdown hit in 2020 I decided to try again.
I know I can get to at least 15 minutes! I told myself. But despite repeating the program, this time I couldn't even get to 10.
Running, it seemed, wasn't for me.
But all of that was before.
Before I bought my own bike in London.
Before I cycled it around my neighbourhood, and then to Dulwich, and then to Crystal Palace, and Hyde Park, and Farringdon, and Kingston-on-Thames.
If I can cycle to Kingston-on-Thames surely I can run? All I need is a different metric of success.
And because I'm the kind of person who thrives on mutual accountability -- I'm telling you all, so you can hold me accountable, and maybe, if you're interested, join me too.
But this time, instead of trying to reach an arbitary goal like running for 5k -- I'm taking part in the #runsome challenge.
That means i'll be looking to take some of the journeys I currently take on foot or by bike as a run.
I'm starting small: by the start of November, I would like to be able to run the 0.8 miles from my house to my favourite off-license in my neighbourhood -- Hamilton Supermarket on Railton Road.
Runners out there are probably reading this and laughing at me for what a pitiful running length that is -- but that's okay!
As I've learnt with cycling, we've all got to start somewhere.
I'll be making my first attempt to #runsome on Tuesday to mark car free day.
I suspect I won't make it the whole way, but that's okay. One day I will.
If running is something you aspire to as well, and you want to join the #runsome challenge with me, then please reach out! I'm going to need all the support I can get.
Active travel like walking and cycling is a gendered issue. Don't believe me? I'll prove it to you.
First up, most of the time men are more likely to have access to private cars than women. Meaning any design that benefits cars over other modes of transport disproportionately benefits them
And men's journeys tend to be much simpler than women's. Mostly they go to work and then go home again. Whereas women may drop the kids off on the way to the office, and then pick up the shopping on the way home. This is called trip chaining.
A year ago I was too scared to ride a bike in London. Now I’m one of @WeAreCyclingUK’s 100 Women in Cycling for 2021.
So if you’re out there telling yourself cycling isn’t for you: I urge you to reconsider. Because cycling is for everyone.
Here are my tips for beginners:
1. Rent before you buy: it’s easy to think you can’t start cycling until you have a bike. It’s also easy to say you can’t buy a bike until you know you’ll ride it.
Luckily, you can avoid this issue entirely: by making use of cycle hire schemes.
There are SO many bicycle hire options in cities, and increasingly mor e-bike hire options too.
Then there are organisations like @Wheels4Well and @peddlemywheels let you try all kinds of different cycles before making a permanent investment. Also they’re *lovely* people.
This week, I asked folks to name an idea in urbanism that they wish got more attention.
One caught my eye more than any other: induced demand.
It’s got perhaps the least sexy name ever, but it’s vital in understanding how our roads work.
So, here’s a thread explaining it.
Have you ever been driving somewhere, stuck in extremely annoying traffic, looked around at the space around you and thought: if they just built more bloody lanes I wouldn’t be trapped here right now?
Well, you’re not alone.
For generations, the folks who built roads felt the exact same way.
So they kept building lanes.
And when those lanes got too congested they’d build more. And more. And more. Until some of the world’s roads literally started looking like this:
I just turned down a journalist request on low traffic neighbourhoods for the first time since I started advocating for them 9 months ago.
I want to explain why.
The request came from a journalist I've worked with joyfully before, from a publication I respect, and that was one of the things that made turning it down even harder.
The request was for a "debate between neighbours" who live in the same LTN but have differeing views on whether they're good or bad for the community.
From the minute I got the request, something didn't feel right.
Excited to be listening in to @centreforlondon's panel session on the future of London's red routes.
We need to reduce congestion on every road in London and red routes are a key part of that.
@centreforlondon What's clear already is that red routes aren't achieving all of their goals.
Despite looking to achieve everything listed in this list, participants have their doubts as to how effective they are at doing so.
@centreforlondon The future of red routes is also the future of our high streets. So often, local high streets sit on red routes and feel the consequences of the fact that red routes are no longer fit for purpose.
Earlier this week, I was walking on a quiet back-street and enjoying the sunshine. On the pavement across from me was a dad with his three children doing the exact same thing.
The youngest of his children was out of his stroller, toddling alongside it and holding on to its side. The middle child was riding one of those plastic ride-on cars you push along with your feet and LOVING it. The eldest was asking questions and chatting with his dad.
The middle child, whilst having a great time, wasn't quite keeping up with the pack. So dad stopped and called back to him telling him to speed up.
But when he turned around, his youngest child had let go of the stroller and run off straight towards an intersection.