Guest Post 3: Emma Cooke

I’ve been in touch with a few people now about their own stories. There are some amazing stories out there on personal blogs. Through links or reblogging I’m trying to gather them all together here as a resource. One of the people who has been kind enough to give me permission to reblog their piece is Emma Cooke. She posted a great piece on her own blog Scone Cycling at the end of December. Do give her a follow. The image here is by Phill Staisw and there are others that give a flavour of what Emma went through up on her site. Many thanks, Emma!

Mountain Biking and Mental Health: My Trans Cambrian Story

Finally, mental health is starting to get discussed more and more openly in the UK. And from the BBC’s much-celebrated Mind Over Marathon documentary, to Look Mum No Hands’ panel discussion on the matter, the benefits of exercise for mental health are being recognised too.

So now it’s time to add my story…

I’ve had trouble with anxiety and associated depression at a number of points in my life. Mostly I’ve managed to keep my head above water and continue as normal, hiding my troubles from the world. However, I recently had a spell of anxiety that really did knock me off course. It stopped me from eating, it stopped me from sleeping and, eventually, it stopped me from working. I have been lucky enough to be treated by a great GP and an even better counsellor to get myself back on track. But that is not the full story of my recovery. The full story includes a massive bike ride, in crazy headwinds, rain, and a whole heap of mud!

Before my anxiety struck, I had booked a birthday treat for myself: a three day mountain biking mission on the Trans Cambrian Trail, riding from the English border at Knighton, through mid Wales to Machynlleth on the coast. I’d booked the trip with Mountain Bike Wales, having met proprietor Phill through Polly on my mountain bike and yoga break earlier in the year.

Phill and Polly are two of the most passionate, supportive people in the mountain biking world. But, even so, when I got ill just a few weeks before the trip I very nearly backed out. It was only due to a brilliant conversation with my counsellor and quick call to Polly that I decided to give it a go. When is a bike ride not a good idea, after all??

The weekend arrived and brought with it Storm Brian and an increase in my anxiety levels. I had barely slept in weeks, I was suffering from multiple panic attacks each day, and I really wasn’t convinced I was capable of facing a challenge that would see me cycling further than I ever had before, let alone in headwinds of over 40 miles an hour! It was with absolute dread that I left the pub we’d stayed in in Knighton to put foot to pedal and get started on day one.

But as my legs started turning, as the blood got pumping and my heart rate rose, I started to forget the heavy stomach and painful doubts that had been my constant companions for the last few weeks. That day I rode up wet, grassy climbs I would never have contemplated before, I took the longer option where I could have taken a short cut, and I rode into Rhayader that evening shocked at what I had achieved. It’s true, I had a little panic attack when we arrived in the town, but it passed quickly and I was able to enjoy a lovely meal with the rest of the group, before retiring to a cosy bed for the night.

The next day Storm Brian really did come out to play. The wind howled and the rain rushed horizontally in sheets past the window as we chowed down on a full Welsh breakfast. Phill and Polly had been conferring overnight and agreed that the planned route for the day was going to be too exposed for the conditions, so a new plan had been concocted. We were to ride a more sheltered, but still 50km, route in the Elan Valley. A familiar sense of dread kicked back in as I donned my kit – every piece of wet weather gear I owned and plenty of layers to boot. But again, that fear, that anxiety, that rock in the pit of my stomach left as I began to ride.

The trails looked more like rivers than bridleways, the hail bit our faces and we were buffeted in all directions by enormous gusts of wind. My waterproofs could only withstand so much; I was soaked to the bone by lunchtime. And I had never felt more alive! I pedalled and pedalled and pedalled some more. I battled hard against the wind, I laughed as I rode through water that came up to my knees, and grinned from ear to ear as I felt a painful yet satisfying exhaustion seep through my body as the day came to a close and the light faded. It was the best I had felt in weeks, and that feeling was only improved by the delicious pub meal we consumed that evening.

And so came day three, the final day of our wet and windy adventure. And my goodness, was it wet and windy! We thought we had ridden hard on day two, we thought we had experienced headwinds and mud. But no, day three was where it was at. Day three threw everything at us! We climbed all morning, heading up to Glyndwrs Way, battling a headwind like none I had experienced before. It was a fight, that’s for sure. But somehow, from somewhere, I found energy. I found determination. I found the ability to pedal, to get my head down and just get on with it.

Lunchtime saw us hiding behind a tin fence, trying hard to shelter from the wind and the rain that just kept hammering us. I’ll be honest: it was grim and I felt miserable. But the fire inside me just wouldn’t be extinguished. Something somehow kept that flame burning, kept me wanting more. And so we entered the final leg – a leg with a fabulous descent that I will always remember. The rain kept pouring, the wind kept blowing, but this was the last push and there was no way I was going to let the elements beat me.

Riding the Trans Cambrian marked a turning point in my recent illness. It showed me that I am stronger than I think I am. It showed me that determination can enable great things, that I can do more than I ever thought possible. It showed me what I am made of. And I took these lessons and knew that I would get better, that anxiety wouldn’t beat me. And you know what? It was true: anxiety couldn’t beat me. I am better now and I am stronger than I ever was before.

Riding the Trans Cambrian at my point of crisis was the best decision I have ever made. Mountain biking should be prescribed by the NHS!

Postscript: I have to say a enormous thank you to Phill Stasiw and Polly Clark, who guided us on this amazing adventure. They are some of life’s proper good’ns and I could not have done it without them.

You can check out the trips that Polly and Phill are running next year on their respective websites: |


Sport Relief and the Cycling Community

Some of you will have seen on sm that Zoe Ball is undertaking a bike ride as part of Sport Relief (March 17th – 23rd). You may have even have caught the interviews with her on BBC Breakfast and The One Show (17 mins in) a few days ago. It’s great that Sport Relief is focusing on mental health this time around. There’s the cycling challenge (as yet unquantified) but she will also be visiting various projects across the country working to improve things for those people dealing with a range of MH issues.

What struck me, looking through some of the comments to her on sm after the broadcasts was the genuine kindness and willingness to share advice that was coming from the cycling community. It’s something like that which I experienced when I started to become involved in cycling in 2003. Also the bit about doing an undignified, slow-motion 90-deg *flump* onto the tarmac during the period when you first embark on cleat usage. Mine was near Turnpike Lane in North London. At traffic lights. With four lanes of stationary traffic behind me.




In 2010 a number of well-known faces tag-teamed JOGLE (John O’Groats to Land’s End) during one of the bitterest and longest winters I remember in a long time. By April even those non-SAD sufferers were going spare at the lack of sunshine. I remember being impressed at those celebs who were cycling newbies and, again, it brought me back to my earlier experiences. The cleats, first time using cycling shorts, learning about chamois cream (or minty arse lard, if you will). Then feeling a bit frisky moving onto the bib-shorts stage… even a skinsuit. I love a bib-short, me… but I digress. I remember eagerly accepting top tips from those who had lots of cycling knowledge to share. John Mullineaux some of you will know from racing in London, the South-East, and beyond. His cobble-riding tips got me through my Paris-Roubaix Randonnee a decade ago (raised bars, cross tops). Gary MacGowan of Dulwich Paragon CC had lots of great pointers re long-distance riding when I first did Dunwich Dynamo (cut your toenails beforehand!).

I found there to be a particular warmth and encouragement to be had from other cyclists. Also sharing of information, comparing of experiences. I think Zoe Ball will get all the advice she needs (and probably much, much more!).

I confess I have an ulterior motive for writing a bit about Sport Relief. In early December I followed up a tweet from Anxiety UK to get in contact with a production company who were looking to interview people anxiety for a Beeb Sport Relief documentary. I, media whore that I am, offered my services. About 15 or so of us were asked the same questions – I think they’ll intercut our responses throughout the programme, around the footage of a celeb and her personal experience of anxiety. Not sure how much air time will be yours truly but look out for the one with the red glasses.

I’ve probably done the same amount of hours on a turbo trainer in the last month or so than I have on the bike. There have been a couple of weekends that didn’t feature a ride at all. I did push myself to go to the gym, partly in order to not feel guilty about not doing anything at all but didn’t use the bikes there either. Thought I’d do something about my tiny cyclist T-Rex arms. Mat work, weights, and treadmill basically. I’ve been attempting running, after not having run since my schooldays (I was crap at running then) and I’ve managed to get to a point where a Park Run *might* be feasible. What I’ve also discovered is that if you go to the gym and do a HIIT turbo session on the same day your HR gets very, very high and it’s possible to feel a rather queasy at the end. Seeing Zoe Ball out training in the wind and rain did make me feel a bit of a weed for skipping what would have been a very wet, cold ride recently for me in Kent recently. Only a bit, though.

Next blog post coming up shortly – A Bikes&Brains evening at Rapha Manchester coming up on 22nd February! Plans a-foot for another one in London and one in Bristol too in the near future…


A Dose of the Januarys

I’d be surprised if there is anyone out there who returns to work in the New Year with a bounce in their step, and beaming from ear to ear. If you do… take it elsewhere yer massive weirdo.

As I’ve got older I’ve noticed that the change in seasons affect me more. The darker evenings from late October and then the darker mornings. Up to the end of the year it isn’t so bad – various high days and holidays to look forward to that break things up a bit to or distract from winter grey. Unless socialising and Xmas isn’t your thing. January and February can be particularly tough, sometimes March too but then some colour does start to return to the landscape and the hushed whisperings of the oncoming spring can detected.

I presume that the Time to Talk day was set for the beginning of February very deliberately – this year it falls on Feb 1st. World Mental Health Day in October, Time to Talk Day in February, and Mental Health Awareness Week in May bridge what can be a challenging time for many. Having said that, they haven’t been events that I have engaged with much on a personal level as I’m usually involved on a professional level. When the relevance of these initiatives isn’t easily compartmentalised… therein lies a bit of an issue (but that is a blog post of its own!).

A cup of tea and a chat can get things started. Time to Talk has a simplicity to it, an accessibility. I like that. For the same reasons I think that Blackdog CC is a great idea. Those of you who attended the Look Mum No Hands evening or listened to the Wheelsuckers podcast will recall Roann Ghosh talking about the club. It starts with a sticker (and who doesn’t like stickers, right?!). A subtle yet clear signifier that it’s ok to talk to someone about depression. Also, as Roann mentioned, it can be easier to talk when side by side rather than face to face. You’re less exposed. I think many people can find talking about difficult subjects when you have another task to hand, be it riding or mechanic-ing.

Anxiety can get in the way of even these seemingly simple beginnings. Things is, about anxiety, the Fear of the What-If is almost always way worse than the action or activity itself. And then you realise how much cognitive wherewithal you’ve used up worrying about the possible outcomes of a decision. It can be exhausting. Being able to identify and catch yourself when you’re doing this is one thing, modifying your thinking is quite another.

It’s at this point I come to the conclusion that if I was talking to you I would have got stuck in a bit of a verbal cul-de-sac. I’m not sure I meant to write about this but here I am.

Anyway, as mentioned before, I use turbo sessions to keep my fitness and energy levels up during the cold, grey weeks. The last three years I’ve been on a club training camp at the beginning of February for a week. It’s really helped to break up the post-Xmas/Long Time ‘Til Easter period. This year, for a change, I’ve plumped for a camp a bit later on. I have been a bit concerned about whether I made the right decision though I am looking forward to the more settled weather in the Costa Blanca in April. There are some good climbs to be had inland from Calpe, orange groves a-plenty, and a promise of the spa in the basement of the hotel we’ll stay in. Women riders – if you fancy joining me 14-21 April then take a look at the details here: Elite Cycling Training Camps . I booked my flights today in a fit of commitment and it feels good to have the week to look forward to. Particularly given the talking to I had to give myself this morning to get out of bed and ride. There’ll be several group rides in Spain so whether you want hard miles for race prep, or just want to get a few miles in the legs in warm climes you will be catered for. I’m not planning to be chewing the bars all round south-east Spain – the group I usually ride in even has a coffee stop. That’s how I roll.


Guest Post 2: Lesley Pinder

Another guest contribution. This time from a clubmate and friend of mine, Lesley Pinder. You can find her on Twitter under the handle @Skipinder and there are more thoughts on stepping back from racing, and injuries, on her blog here. Here she ponders ways to deal with stress, and has a few thoughts re work and life after reading Alex Soojung-Kim Pang’s book, Rest. SS


Racing and Deep Play

I’ve written a couple of blog posts already about giving up racing my bicycle and so in some senses, this is Part 3 of a journey. When I wrote those posts I was gradually coming to terms with giving up racing and generally felt a sense of relief. The pressure I put on myself, the high (and unrealistic) expectations and disappointments led me to decide that the net impact of racing was a negative one. 2017, my first year in six not spent racing, was instead spent exploring new sports, enjoying cycling as a hobby and coaching. On paper I felt better, less stressed out about how fast (or not) I rode my bike and even a bit more holistically healthy but…. I am starting to wonder if it is not actually all that simple. While I was less stressed on the bike, during the summer of 2017 I became considerably more stressed at work. As a result of it, I have spent a lot of time pondering my mental habits and also trying out new strategies for work and for self care. Along with lots of yoga and meditation I’ve been reading more about healthy work patterns which led me to an excellent book called Rest by Alex Soojung-Kim Pang. Rest explores the relationship between work and rest and argues that the two are not mutually inclusive. With the right sort of rest, it argues, you will work better. It is an antidote to the modern obsession with busyness and the increasingly blurry lines between work and home life. I honestly can’t recommend it enough. The book journeys through different concepts including working less but in a more focussed way (four hours a day is optimal by all accounts), the power of sleep and naps (preaching to the converted here) and also the importance of taking regular time off and how you can make the very most of that time. But it is the chapter of Deep Play that made me think anew about my cycling, and specifically racing.

Deep Play happens when you are so wholly engrossed in an activity that it takes up your entire thinking brain. It is mentally absorbing, allows you to use skills you also use at work (like strategic thinking or creativity), provides a more immediate satisfaction than you may get from work and is also, in some way, linked to your past and things you did as a child.

Activities that can involve Deep Play include playing a musical instrument to a very high level, writing a novel, painting or sports that are intense both physically and mentally. The author talks a great deal in this chapter about sailing and rock climbing which are two sports disproportionately popular with people with demanding jobs that involve high levels of problem solving (scientists, designers or lawyers for example). Both sports involve physical exertion but beyond that they also involve intense mental concentration, problem solving and creativity. Physical exercise is great for both physical and mental health but often still allows space for mind wandering while Deep Play, although it may involve some of the same skills you use at work, provides a more profound break from it.

This really resonated with me. I struggle to switch off. As my partner will confirm, I rarely sit still and I am always doing twelve things at once. When I am out on a bike ride in the lovely Kent lanes I can really only do that one thing otherwise I’d crash but my mind will still wander and I’ll still ruminate over work challenges and while I can come up with some great ideas or solutions it doesn’t really switch me off. On the other hand, I used to always say that racing or race training behind a derny pacer was the most mindful thing I did. That was when I completely and utterly focused on the activity at hand. And the more I think about it, the more I realise that it wasn’t just the race itself that constituted Deep Play, it was also all the surrounding thinking, planning and preparation. Climbing, sailing and cycling are united by the need to think deeply not only while you are doing the thing but also when you are planning for the thing. On race day, and sometimes even the night before, my mind would be entirely engrossed in the event ahead… What kit and shoes will I wear? What gearing do I need on my bike? Which wheels? What will the weather be like? What food and drink will I need? Who is racing? What do I know about them? Track cycling, like sailing and climbing, can be complicated and hard to grasp but once you’re in it, the complexity deepens the level of engagement. My mind is very active at work so it makes sense that sometimes (but not always) in order to switch off from work it needs to be very active doing a different thing.

And so I wonder… while in many ways racing my bicycle had become a stressful thing no longer enjoyable in itself, did the Deep Play nature of it actually reduce stress in another part of my life? If I could approach bike racing with the patience, acceptance and self compassion I’ve been trying to nurture through meditation and yoga, could I benefit again from the complete immersion that the act of racing brings? Could I be content with being ‘okay’ at racing in return for the benefits that the act of racing can bring? Or do I need to find a new Deep Play hobby? When I was younger I found immersion in Amateur Dramatic Musicals! Maybe it’s time to get my tap shoes and jazz hands out again…



Guest Post 1: Jo McRae

I am happy to present the first guest blog post, written by the lovely Jo McRae (Twitter – @JoMcRae1) who is an exercise professional of many years. What do you do when you simply can’t ride? When injury or illness prevent you from even getting on the bike? Here Jo shares her personal experience punctuated with professional observations. SS


Taking the Piss.

Having missed the much talked about gig at Look Mum, I’m keen to keep the ball rolling in sharing some of my own brain and bike experiences via this blog. Only problem is, though this ball may be rolling, the wheels on my own bicycle are not going round and round at all. I’ve been grounded by one of the worst things a cyclist can have to deal with – an actual physical reason for not being able to ride the bike.

Like many mentalists with a therapeutic love-hate relationship with the bike, I’ve sometimes not wanted to ride the damn thing at all, the biggest hiatus being a five year divorce. Sometimes, the hurdles have been insurmountable, the pressure I put on myself too great, or the general lethargy or depression too much to swing my leg over the cross-bar. Frustratingly many of these aspects of my own mental health are rather well in check just now, so the Universe has sent me a different kind of challenge just to check I’ve really GOT IT.  Due to an ongoing bladder infection and subsequent complications, I’ve been off the bike completely for about six months now.

A chronic bladder infection sounds like nothing much I know, but this is a bona fide, albeit not too common problem that really can become pretty serious if untreated. In practice, it means daily and even hourly changes in bladder problems, pelvic and urethral pain, dysfunction and all manner of awfulness that I won’t go into here. The main symptom for me has been bladder pain, something I didn’t know you could even have, let alone would have to learn to manage for more than a year.

Helpfully the centre for anxiety in the brain is right next door to the one receiving feedback from the bladder, so needless to say, the anxiety I have been experiencing has at times been pretty much off the scale. I’ve experienced crippling anxiety before, but usually associated with no REAL cause, or rather one magnified and exacerbated by thought processes themselves. This whole experience takes moment to moment management to a whole new level, and several of my usual coping measures are currently off the table. Riding my bike would be one, and lifting heavy weights would be another. Both are, for the moment, off limits. Almost uniquely amongst the exercise options available, these two favourite things are most like to make pain and physical symptoms worse. This feels like a particularly cruel blow.

Luckily as an exercise professional myself I’m not short of movement vocabulary, so I’ve been embracing ‘BEING IN THE NOW’, and doing whatever I can on any given day to keep moving and keep healthy in both body and mind. One day that might mean having a swim. Another it might mean a light gym circuit. And one mental health technique that I’ve used in the past is really coming into its own. ‘Goal chain-ing’ is when you don’t look too far ahead, but instead prepare for an activity step by manageable step, in order to avoid being overwhelmed by the size of the challenge or floored by the disappointment of failure. You might focus on putting your exercise kit on before you decide what you’re going to do, or ride the first 15 minutes out of town before deciding if you want to go any further.

Fortunately for me I have access to several gyms, so I’m able to chop and change my activity at the drop of a hat and still get something useful done. I’ve been trying to keep my hand in a little by including short half hour/40 minute sessions on a watt bike. At least by cycling indoors I’m not in the arse end of Kent with a sudden onset of pain and no way of getting home in a hurry. I don’t want to induce pain, but some days I don’t have any problems at all so having no set goal in this instance is helpful and important, but it is hard to swallow. I like to have structure to my work-outs. Training is my business after all, but for now I just want to use exercise to stay sane. Surely that’s achievable with goal-chaining and a flexible mind set. After all, who cares if I get on a watt bike for 15 minutes only to get off and have a super comfortable row with a lubricated padded chamois.

So I’m doing my best and I’m managing, and there have even been some unexpected perks, for example I have improved my running. But what I’ve remembered the most is that I like to ride my bike. Just for the pleasure in that. And I’m looking forward to a time when I can get the wheels turning again, at whatever speed.

The Winter Meh – pt. 2

Ok, so this one is more about the cycling and less of the political ranting (it will happen from time to time). I managed to save the saucepan by the way. Phew.

The end of year can throw up lots of conflicting emotions. I have a tendency to be backward-looking and it’s all too easy for me to fall into the habit of seeing the change of year as a loss, a leaving behind of all those great times I’ve had over the last 12 months and them being submerged into my personal history. There’s part of me that would like to bottle up those joyful moments like a perfume, or a single malt, to be intermittently savoured. I know there is a ridiculousness to this. I know that there will be plenty of forthcoming awesome times. Very generally-speaking, anxiety is future-fear – all those ‘what-ifs’ which can become overwhelming.

Anxiety can infiltrate every aspect of your life, prevent you from making big, long-term plans (some many variables!) to the minutia (so many variables!) and I find even going out on a short bike ride will involve plenty of pre-pedal analysis. What is the weather going to be like? What combination of kit shall I wear? How much food and liquid? Which thickness of gloves? How long shall I go out for? Where shall I go? What do I need to do when I get home and will I have the energy to do it? Do I have time? Can I be bothered?

Thing is, all this takes up a lot of energy and time as it is and it becomes alarmingly easy to talk yourself out of doing anything at all. The key, I’ve found, is awareness of your own situation. It doesn’t come easy, it’s quite a learning curve. Identifying when you are sliding into over-analysis is one thing, doing something about it is another. I try and pull myself up short and just go. Sometimes I counter the what-ifs by actively positive thoughts… if I go there I will see that bit of countryside I love, if I do that route I’ll get that fab downhill run that makes me feel like I’m flying…

It’s different now I’m now I’m not training for racing though I still find myself setting targets in terms of distance or hours. When this seems too much I refocus and try a more mindful approach – taking in the countryside, observing changes in the flora, delighting in random views along the way. I turn the bike ride from a means to an end to an end itself.

The weather plays a bigger part the older I get, the seasons too. Grey, cloudy blargh I find difficult, I’ll take a freezing cold day over mild temps and low cloud any day. I’m learning not to always dash around feeling that I need to be super-active any time the sun comes out, but getting out of the house is definitely worthwhile – even just sitting on the terrace outside a local café in Crystal Palace basking in the winter sun has its merits.

There’s always something to observe, how ever long or short the ride, whether in the countryside or town. Drink it in. Observe and delight in your surroundings. React to them. Stop for that coffee if you want to. Allow yourself a little leeway.


Wishing you a fab 2018, everyone. 🙂


The Winter Meh – pt. 1

Well, I was going to make this blog post about winter grey and the urge to hibernate but I’ve got derailed a bit. I saw that Daily Mail headline via twitter and at the time I just shrugged to myself. Just another piece of shitty journalism from a rag too unsanitary to wipe your arse on.

The more I’ve thought about it the more angry I have got. Not just at the DM and all that it stands for but because this is just one of many areas around which advances have been made, stigma has been gradually broken down, and WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK are we still having to challenge these headlines and why is is even published in the first place?! The tabloids continue to discover new depths to which they can sink. Marianas Trench ain’t got nothin’ on them.

I see it partly as a symptom of the regressive era of Brexit politics where the intolerant, the right wing, the fools who would gleefully describe themselves as ‘politically incorrect’ and others have been handed implied permissions to voice those backward opinions which they’ve been clinging onto for dear life since the 1990s. For some it goes further back to civil rights and development of feminism in the 1960s and 1970s or even earlier. All the advances by out groups of various kinds, so hard fought for over the years, seem to be in danger. I am hoping that this is not the case and that when those currently in power are gone we can get back to some semblance of sanity. Worldviews can take much longer than a single generation to evolve, however. *waves placard*

Anyhooooooooo. The thing with the DM article (which I presume follows a standard model for this type of health-related tripe they churn out) is that:

  1. Happy Pills. As if they are an instant fix. Ecstasy be happy pills, not ADs.
  2. I’ve got so into my rant the water in my boiled potatoes evaporated and I think I’ve ruined a saucepan. Shit.
  3. No real attempt to consider why AD use is so high until a way down the piece, probably banking on most people not actually reading that far down – particularly online, with ads.
  4. Underfunding of NHS a glaring omission, of course.
  5. ADs are not only prescribed for depression – they can help in cases of OCD, ADHD, eating disorders… NHS info on ADs
  6. Personally, I’ve never been ‘fobbed off’ with ADs. I’ve walked out of the GP surgery with a prescription after a discussion with my doc. Yep, waiting lists for therapy can be months long. IAPT services are generally aimed at treating low-moderate anxiety and depression, ADs tend to be aimed at more severe cases.
  7. Levels of depression and anxiety tend to rise during times of financial strain. I wondered how much the political decision to impose a regime of austerity has impacted on national health over the last 8 years? The recession before that also had an impact. Re England (abstract only):  Social Science and Medicine and here’s one report from Scotland looking at austerity and the impact on patients and GP practices in deprived areas: Employability in Scotland
  8. I’ve been wondering how much tabloid reporting contributes to anxiety levels? Has any one out there come across any academic studies on the subject? Tabloid: doesn’t taste nice but easy to swallow… Tabloid – a bit on Burroughs Wellcome

If you are still here and haven’t got bored yet… yay! So how does cycling fit into all this? Well, after such a great evening at Look Mum No Hands back in November I felt particularly frustrated. There had been such a selection of articles, personal accounts, and so on around mental health – and I’m aware of how difficult it is for people to be open and honest about the subject – so it seems especially headdesky when reading something like the DM article. It’s difficult to see how it couldn’t be anything other than deliberate tabloid trolling.

(Self-interruption here – I’m planning another cycling/mh evening at Look Mum in March. If you would like to contribute please get in touch. If you are near Manchester then you might want to keep an eye to the Rapha Mancs events – planning one there in late Feb.) Aaaand, we’re back:

At times like this I do use the bike to pedal off a bit of steam, though today it was the gym that came in handy. I have been cat-sitting for a friend for the last couple of days and spent quite a lot of time drinking tea and watching telly.

This is Mo. Mo likes a crackly plastic bag.

So, yes, winter. It’s a bugger innit. I am wary of giving out advice with too much of an air of authority. I’ll say what works for me and if it’s something you haven’t tried you might want to consider it. Each to their own though – it can take a little time to work out what’s best for you though I daresay there will be plenty of overlap amongst us cyclists.

I try and get out for a ride one morning of each weekend. Usually Saturday but I check the weather and swap the days around if necessary. My ride is generally shorter in the winter too – 60k as opposed to 80-90k on average. I’m fortunate where I live in South London in that I can clear the surburbs in about 20 mins. This makes a substantial difference when dredging up motivation. I have a minimum I ride, which is up to the edge of the North Downs and back. This makes me feel like I have done *something* even when I might have initially planned to do more. Very occasionally I’ll do less even than that if I find I’m pedalling squares after half an hour.

Speaking mainly to the club cyclists here, I guess… The major activity I use to keep fitness during Oct-April period is group turbo sessions – Turbobeat Classes You can even spot my sweaty mug on the vimeo. It’s social, it’s fun, it’s a coached, quality workout that doesn’t take up all of your evening. I actually look forward to finishing work and heading over to the The Lodge at Crystal Palace Sports Centre once or twice a week. Again, I’m fortunate because it’s less than 5 mins from where I live. If I was to give advice at this point 😉 it would be to identify the nearest or easiest to get to places where you can ride or do other related exercise. At home even – lots of folk I know use Yoga with Adrienne .  There will be times when you just don’t wanna. Sometimes you can work through this because you can be fairly sure you’ll feel good afterwards but sometimes… you just can’t. I guess the practice here is to try and gives yourself the props if you do get out but try and avoid beating yourself up if you don’t.

There’ll always be another day.



Welcome to Bikes and Brains! I’ve created this blog as a result of the ‘Let’s Talk About Cycling and Mental Health event which I curated at Look Mum No Hands cycle café in London on 7th Nov. 2017 I thought it would be a good idea to provide some kind of follow up. If you want to listen to what went on during the evening you’ll find your lugholes will be so obliged over on the Wheel Suckers Podcast courtesy of Alex of LMNH and Jenni of  London Bike Kitchen

The  aim here, primarily, is to provide those who cycle and who have experiences of mental health issues with a space where they might contribute their individual stories. In between will be me offering up my own history, raising a few questions, pondering some observations. I’ll try not to get too self-indulgent…

The idea for the evening emerged, as can often be the case, after a beer or two (me) when I was attending an event at the venue in July where the US racer Ayesha McGowan was speaking to blogger Jools Walker. Jenni Gwiazdowski of London Bike Kitchen was there on podcast duties and I also chatted to Alex Davis who is a stalwart of LMNH team. Ayesha touched on the subject of anxiety in relation to racing – it galvanised my desire to explore the link between cycling/cyclists and mental health (depression and anxiety for the most part). Lots of emailing ensued and by October we had finally arranged the evening. We had such great feedback from the event that I thought it was important to try and keep some momentum going.

I’m planning to arrange another London evening in March and there are plans a-foot for a similar event before that in Manchester in the second half of February. Bristol is another area I would like to investigate putting on an event.


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