One of my earliest, most joyful memories is learning how to ride a bike with my dad.
My mam laughed behind her camcorder as I shakily steered my bike without stabilisers for the very first time. My dad ran alongside to catch me if I fell.
The wobbly footage shows my younger sister then zooming past us on two wheels, without any direction or teaching.
I loved my bike. It was small, pink and squeaky - complete with white wheels and purple handlebar streamers. Rainbow beads clattered on its spokes as I pedalled.
That feeling - that thrill - of cycling was like no other. Back then, the world felt so big and I felt so small. Nothing could stop me and my little legs ferociously turning the pedals until the brick walls of the back lane blurred beyond recognition.
That was until, not long after, I was called fat for the first time. I was seven.
Sadly, it was decades before I thought about cycling - or indeed, any exercise - in the same way again.
I thought I needed 'fixing'
I've always had a tricky relationship with my weight. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been the biggest girl in the room. It was a late family member who called me fat for the first time, and even my classmates used to call me 'Emmie the elephant’.
As a result, I've hated my body. For too long I despised every ounce, every stretch mark and puckered wobble. I’ve been on diets since I was a child. I thought that exercise was just a ploy to punish fat people like me into losing weight.
I thought I was 'wrong' and needed 'fixing'.
When it came to cycling as a fat woman, I thought I wasn't deserving of it. Sure, I enjoyed the freeing feeling of it as a child, but growing up, exercise ceased to be about pleasure, and became about burning calories.
It doesn't help that cycling gear isn’t often size-inclusive, and models in ads are always lean, athletic and not pictured breaking a sweat. They don’t look like me.
In my teens and twenties, I felt like I didn't 'belong' on cycling lanes. That I was a bad example. That people would look at me and tilt their head; tell me I was 'doing really well', or to 'keep it up, fatty!' - both of which I’ve been told while exercising.
Society has been taught to shun and alienate fat people - especially when it comes to fitness, and exercise. It can be - and has felt like - a very isolating experience being the size that I am.
So, for almost two decades, I didn’t cycle. I didn’t allow myself to get lost on long, winding country roads - to enjoy the pleasure of blurry landscapes rushing past in efforts to celebrate an achievement, or try and forget about a boy. Or even just for pleasure.
I tried everything else in the meantime to punish myself - running, weights, HIIT workouts, even spin classes (who knew you could sweat from your elbows!?).
It wasn’t until 2020, during lockdown, that I finally bought a bike; my reasoning was that there wouldn’t be many people around to ogle my bright red, sweaty moon face and too-tight gym gear.
Statistics published by Sport England, as part of its This Girl Can With You (2023) launch showed that fear of judgement puts women off exercise, with 41% concerned about not being fit enough, 32% worried about what other people think of them, 31% not wanting to show their body, 24% citing being on their period as a barrier and 20% avoiding tight clothing; 35% said they have felt judged when exercising.
The campaign has 700,000 supporters in its community and seeks to empower women and girls, by showring that that there is 'right' way to get active.
And, god, how I’d missed cycling. All of my most joyful memories of riding a bike came rushing back like the wind in my hair. Soon, I scorned myself for starving my soul of this very pleasure simply because I was worried what people - what total strangers - would think of me.
It's only been recently that I've felt the confidence to go out on my bike, and call myself ‘a cyclist' - but not without having to seriously recondition and shift my entire mindset. Forcibly rejecting years of prescribed fatphobia and discrimination. Turning 30, and realising that I actually give so much less of a f**k about what people think of me these days, anyway, has helped.
After many years of having a toxic relationship with my body, I still have bad days - but I hop on my bike instead of crawling into bed. I’ve reclaimed my space as a plus-sized woman on the cycle lane. And, on the days I’d rather lie in, I no longer punish myself for staying in bed.
To me, I have to be the role model I craved to see for so long. And I'm pretty proud to be doing it for scores of young girls who see themselves in my body, and my unadulterated happiness when on two wheels.
Now, I tell myself that I deserve to enjoy cycling, commuting, and being on the cycle lane with no real destination (or number on the scale) in mind. That I’m worthy of taking up space, and always will be.
Emmie’s tips on getting comfortable taking up space
Ready to get back on the cycle lane, yourself? There's no better time than now.
- Start small: You don’t need to invest in the latest gear, and signing up to a triathlon would be a bad idea right now. Start by taking small steps; like borrowing an e-bike and cycling to a friend’s house, for example. Pedal around the park near your home, then add more on each time. Find a rhythm that suits you, and work your way up to your new normal.
- Celebrate yourself: Normalising celebrating your achievements (however small) can make a big difference to your perception of cycling, and exercise. Did you get ready to go out on your bike today? Did you try a cycle path that once scared you? Cycle further than ever before? Go you! A minor thing to some people is a big win to others.
- Welcome affirmations into your routine: We don’t tell ourselves, our bodies, how grateful we are. How proud we are. How amazing we are. I’m not saying stare lovingly into your own eyes in the mirror while brushing your teeth, but give yourself a smile. Say to yourself: ‘I am worthy’, and you might just start to believe its truth.
- Surround yourself with the right people: Chances are, you’re not alone in feeling this way. Surround yourself - both in real life, and online - with people who inspire you, not those who make you feel alien and unlovable. There’s plenty of cycling social groups to join online, too. They’re full of normal, like-minded people - and I’m sure they’re feeling just like you right now. Remember, the first step is always the hardest.
