Commuting by Bike: A Mindful Alternative to the Morning Rush

Monday morning, half past seven. I'm stuck in what's basically the world's most expensive car park, except it's supposed to be the A40. Twenty minutes to move fifty meters. The radio's cheerfully announcing "severe delays due to an earlier incident" - translation: someone's had a bump and now we're all screwed.

This was my life for five bloody years. Five! Starting every day stressed before I'd even reached the office. Then my mate Dave (you know the type - always banging on about his latest fitness obsession) suggested cycling to work. My first reaction? Proper laugh. Me? On a bike? In London traffic? Dave, I said, have you completely lost it?

But here's the embarrassing bit - Dave was right. Bobbin Bikes sells these brilliant commuter bikes for actual humans, not just weekend warriors in lycra. Their ladies' bikes are perfect for professional women who want to arrive looking presentable, and their boys' bikes are great for children aged 2 to 11 – perfect for little adventurers riding to the park or school (though good luck convincing them it's more fun than the car!).

The weird meditation thing

Been cycling to work for three years now - with breaks during proper grim winter months because I'm not mental. Something strange happened. It became... meditative? I know how that sounds. If someone told me three years ago I'd describe my commute as "meditative," I'd have suggested therapy.

But there's genuinely something about pedaling rhythm that settles your brain. Your breathing syncs with your legs. You notice things you've never seen - like that gorgeous Victorian house with the amazing garden. How did I miss that from the car?

By the time I reach work, I'm actually awake. Properly awake, not just caffeinated-into-consciousness. My brain's processed the home-to-work transition instead of being jolted from one to the other via traffic rage.

The weather thing took getting used to. First time cycling in light rain, I thought I'd made a terrible mistake. But it was actually quite nice. Refreshing, even. You feel connected to what's happening outside instead of watching through glass while cursing the idiot in front.

Though I draw the line at proper downpours. I'm not completely mad, whatever Dave says.

Health stuff nobody mentions

Obviously cycling burns calories. Everyone knows that. But the real benefits? I now fall asleep within ten minutes instead of lying there for an hour thinking about tomorrow's to-do list.

Used to catch every office bug - you know how it is, one person sniffles and half the team's down within a week. Since cycling regularly? Maybe two colds in three years. Could be coincidence, but doubt it.

There's this thing where you start the day having achieved something positive. By desk time, you've done something good for health, wallet, environment. Sets a proactive tone. Some days that matters more than others.

Fitness improvements creep up gradually. Not trying to set records - just moving in a way that's brilliant for heart and lungs. After months, I could walk upstairs without getting breathless. Small things add up.

Plus - and this sounds weird - I actually look forward to commuting now. Three years ago, if you'd said I'd be excited about the work journey, I'd have assumed you were having a breakdown.

Getting over mental barriers

Biggest obstacle isn't fitness or weather - it's that voice listing why cycling won't work. Had that voice too. Loud and clear.

"What if it rains?" (Get wet, then dry off.) "What if I'm too slow?" (Still faster than traffic jams.) "What if I look ridiculous?" (Nobody's paying attention like you think.)

Safety concerns are valid. Good lights, reflective clothing, decent helmet - all non-negotiable. Learning to ride confidently in traffic takes practice, but it's a skill like any other. Started with quieter routes and built confidence gradually.

Start one day a week. See how it goes. The transformation from "cycling sounds terrible" to "looking forward to commute" happens. You check weather with curiosity, not dread. Plan new routes for variety. Wonder why you spent years stressed about uncontrollable things.

Even if Dave keeps reminding me it was his idea.