Category: things I like

I happen to live in an area where cycling is very popular. Everything from commuting by bike, to getting around, cycling to school or into town as well as the more specialised sports like mountain biking and road racing is GO! There is a bicycle cafe nearby, which serves delicious coffee to bike enthusiasts and locals alike. And, every day as the dogs traverse their daily walk, we meet cyclists on route. In the woods, next to the canals and on the Taff Trail, the very long path that winds its way for many miles all the way to Cardiff Bay.

A few years ago I thus went to a local bicycle repair shop, and bought a beautifully refurbished bike. Older than me, and sturdy in every way, a three gear bike that I immediately fell in love with. Apparently its previous owner had ridden the bike well into old age, and I felt compelled to follow suit. I bought light, a helmet and – thanks to the recommendation of the friendly shop owner, a Crane bell, a Japanese bike bell. On their website you can actually listen to recordings of what the bells sound like, which I though was a nice touch 🙂

Anyhow, I soon put the bike and its bell to good use, cycling to local work appointments and into town or to the library, gladly announcing myself with the bright sound of the bell. I loved it (maybe annoyingly so). And that was the moment I realised that I am in the tiny minority of cyclists who still have a bell on their bike.

Whilst every other aspect of cycling technology seems to have been adopted with glee, and faster, bigger and BIGGER bikes are seemingly everywhere, there is a distinct lack of bell use. Most commonly, there is no notice of anyone approaching at all, or a last minute call of “bike” as they pass by. This morning I had a polite lady call out “Bike Passing!” as she approached from behind, but more commonly there is simply a loud and sudden “LEFT” or “RIGHT”, as urgent men rush by. The ominous whirring sound of fast tires on asphalt meanwhile is often the only signal to take cover on the verges as lycra clad groups of fast racers swish past.

Why, I wonder, is EVERY conceivable piece of kit attached to the bikes, but no bells? (I am equally puzzled at the absence of mud guards on so many bikes nowadays, which often result in cyclists sprayed in mud down the whole back, and which in such a wet and muddy country in particular, feels like an oversight.)

Like with so many products that evolve with shrinking profit margins over time, I think bells became an optional extra somewhere along the way, making you neither faster not needing an app to function, and thus inherently un-sexy to use. They are a retro and analogue technology of cycling that has fallen out of favour, but which I miss daily.

There’s probably a metaphor in there somewhere about technological progress, but I am not going there today. Instead, I went into the garage, where my bike has safely over-wintered, and rang the bell, the chimes echoing of the garage walls and roof. Soon, as spring is approaching, I shall be out and about again on the bike, checking my analogue watch on my wrist for the time as I cycle to the record shop and along the way I am going to ring the bell as I pass walkers and dogs cheerily in an act of defiance. The age of the bicycle bell may be nearly over. But not just yet.

This is the last post of the year, and this one is for my most trusty office buddy, Posey!

Posey turns FIVE tomorrow, and her adventures over the past year have been a big source of joy for me each and every month. I always dreamt of having a dog when I was little, and I am happy and grateful indeed that I have been able to fulfil that dream now that I live a life that can offer a dog a happy home.

As a morning person there is nothing better than waking up with these rascals every day, greeting the morning tea in hand. We walk 3-5 miles each day and that keeps me active and outdoors more than any other activity ever has. Their company makes working from home a lot more sociable and coastal walks more fun, too.

Happy Birthday, Posey! Here’s to many more years of adventures together, and wishing everyone, humans and dogs (and cats and other creatures, too, of course) a Happy New Year 2026.

It’s been nearly ten years since I started blogging about running 10k. Like many people I started running looking for balance at a very stressful time in my life, and ten years later I still run for mental health, to help manage stress and busy periods. I also love getting more outdoors and the headspace that comes with clocking up the miles.

From the first beginnings of my running journey, that’s always been a distance that I enjoyed training for. It’s long enough to be challenging but not so long that you get too many injuries. It takes (for me) just over an hour, but not three or four hours and thus even “long run Sundays” aren’t too disruptive. It’s a fairly social distance, too. Easy to do together.

Between 2017-2019 then I did A LOT of running, but after that pandemic life got in the way, and from 2020 onwards, I had many false starts getting back into it and finding my stride:

For literally years I started and stopped, never finding a path forward for more than a few weeks. There was a lot happening in life and other priorities kept popping up, as well as long term injuries that stopped most exercise in its tracks for 18 months or more.

Then a year ago, I set out on a new plan, scaling back my ambitions to what felt more achievable, and embarked on my year of 10k in 2025. I kept blogging about it, more to offer myself some encouragement than anything else:

And now, as autumn rolls around once again, I am looking at the medals I’ve collected over the course of the year, and I can’t quite believe that it’s actually happened. I have been running for over a year, and along the way I kept to my 10k promise, completing four of the five races I had signed up for this year.

Yay me!

Together with my husband I motored through a year of training, a year which didn’t make consistent exercise easy, and one which threw enough curve balls to derail our efforts every couple of months. There was the day when it rained so hard we skipped a race and stayed at home, the month we got married and training went out of the window and the endless weeks of rainy weather that come with living in the green land of South Wales. My training chart thus never looks perfect, and my body had other plans than running for some of the year, too.

But.

I did it anyway. And I am so pleased that I’m back at it. Now, where’s that Half Marathon training plan…?