Moments before midnight on New Year’s Eve, my friends began to discuss their resolutions. Gathered around a glass-laden table in a noisy pub, some had their ambitions for 2026 thought through, while others were unsure or reluctant to divulge what they want from the year.
I was in the latter camp, going on the offensive with follow-up questions to avoid the defence of saying I wasn’t sure what my resolutions would be. It worked. Sidetracked into one friend’s resolution to call men out for not giving their 100 per cent on dates, I was saved by the midnight countdown. Cheers one and all, I must be heading home.
Yet, surfacing bleary-eyed on 1 January, I began to wonder what my resolutions might be and why I am often reluctant to make them. A lot can be achieved in 12 months and, rightly or wrongly, I feel a resolution must match that potential. But that leads me to decision paralysis, like a rabbit in the headlights, if that rabbit understood the Gregorian calendar and was grappling with existential portent.
Many New Year’s resolutions fail because willpower is like a muscle that can fatigue from overuse. So the solution for me, at least, is to think smaller. Instead of a grand ambition – in other words, a goal I’ll likely fail to achieve – I’ve decided my resolution will be more of an intention: to ride more.
That might seem like an odd resolution for a cycling journalist. Surely, you’re thinking, my time must be filled with gorgeous bike rides on rolling vistas. Or that I spend my days testing bikes, components and all the kit we review here at BikeRadar.
Alas, no. Those enviable tasks fall to my colleagues. Even if I do get the occasional perk, such as cycling in Switzerland last year to try the latest Scott Addict, you’re more likely to find me writing news and commissioning freelancers than eating copious amounts of pasta at the behest of Basso.
In the last six months, cycling has become more of a mode of transport than a form of exercise. My dalliance with running became a more serious pursuit in 2025 and my road bike a hanger for the buffs, vests and gloves I don for my plods.
It’s not that I haven‘t been riding my bike because I don’t want to. Far from it. It’s just that once a habit is broken, it’s hard to pick it up again.
The assortment of gear I need to go for a ride is now buried away under my other possessions, and frankly I look out of the window at the cold weather, and an hour running seems more appealing than four cycling. But that’s mostly a case of not being in the swing of things and forgetting just how rewarding that extra challenge can prove to be.
Of course, I could enter a sportive or even set the goal of doing some hill climbs as a bid to enforce more time on the bike. But whereas I was once militant with training miles, I’ve become a believer in the simple fact that I ride my bike for pleasure – even if feeling fit and fast is a welcome side effect.
“To ride more”, then, will be my way to have more time on the bike without applying unnecessary pressure on myself and in whatever shape it comes. If the long summer evenings are spent cycling, then I’ll see it as having been successful. And if that means more commuting by bike and less money spent on buses, it will have been a success too.
We often talk about cycling through feats of athleticism or mental fortitude, so my aim for 2026 may seem unremarkable. But starting small is a great way to get the ball rolling. And with a bit of momentum, those larger goals can feel far more achievable.
