For years, I thought the Tube was just part of the deal. You live in London, you suffer through packed carriages, signal failures, and the smell of damp coats in winter. It’s a rite of passage, right? I told myself everyone hated it, so it must be normal. But somewhere between yet another “severe delays on the Northern line” announcement and being physically pressed into a stranger’s backpack at 8:17 a.m., something shifted. I realised I wasn’t just mildly inconvenienced by the Tube it was actively draining my energy before the day had even started. That’s when I started cycling. Not because I was super fit, eco-obsessed, or trying to make a statement. I just wanted a better way to get to work.
Life on the Tube: Efficient, Miserable, Exhausting
On paper, the Tube makes sense. It’s fast, it covers the city, and it runs frequently. In reality, it often felt like controlled chaos. Mornings began with rushing. Rushing to catch the train. Rushing down escalators. Rushing onto platforms already overflowing with people staring blankly at arrival boards. Then came the wait standing shoulder to shoulder, hoping the next train wouldn’t be delayed or cancelled. Once onboard, personal space vanished. In summer, it was stifling. In winter, it was clammy and uncomfortable. Add delays, sudden station closures, and the low-level stress of always being late even when you left early, and commuting became something I dreaded daily. By the time I reached work, I already felt tired. Not physically mentally. The Tube had a way of sucking the calm out of you before 9 a.m.
The Moment I Considered Cycling
Cycling wasn’t an obvious choice at first. London traffic has a reputation, and I’d never considered myself a “cyclist.” But one day, standing on a stalled platform while an announcement apologised for the inconvenience for the third time that week, I looked up my commute time on Google Maps. Cycling was only ten minutes longer than the Tube. On a bad day, it was actually faster. That surprised me. I borrowed a bike for a weekend, planned a quiet route avoiding major roads, and decided to try cycling just once. I told myself if it was awful, I’d go straight back to the Tube and never think about it again.
The First Ride: Nervous but Eye-Opening
That first commute was tense. I won’t pretend otherwise. I was hyper-aware of every car, every bus, every pedestrian stepping into the road without looking. My hands were tight on the handlebars, and I probably looked far less confident than I felt. But something unexpected happened. I wasn’t underground. I wasn’t staring at ads or a stranger’s armpit. I was moving through the city past cafés opening for the day, through quiet side streets, alongside parks waking up with joggers and dog walkers. I arrived at work slightly sweaty, slightly shaky, but weirdly energised. For the first time in years, my commute felt like something I’d done, not something that had happened to me.
Finding Freedom Above Ground
Once cycling became routine, the benefits started stacking up quickly. I gained control over my time. No more guessing whether delays would strike. If I left at 8:30, I arrived when I expected to. If I left five minutes earlier, I arrived five minutes earlier. Simple. I also noticed how much more connected I felt to London. On the Tube, the city is abstract station names and coloured lines. On a bike, it’s real streets, neighbourhoods, and small details you’d never notice underground. I learned shortcuts. I found quiet roads I didn’t know existed. I discovered parks, canals, and coffee spots that never appeared on my Tube map.
Physical and Mental Changes I Didn’t Expect
I assumed cycling would make me fitter. That part was obvious. What surprised me was how much it helped my mental health. The Tube had always put me in a reactive mood. Cycling made me proactive. I started my day alert, focused, and calmer. Even stressful days felt more manageable after a ride that cleared my head. Physically, I didn’t need a gym membership anymore. My legs got stronger. My stamina improved. And because cycling didn’t feel like “exercise,” I stuck with it. There was also a strange confidence boost that came from navigating London on my own terms. Once you’ve mastered rush-hour cycling, a lot of other things stop feeling quite so intimidating.
Yes, London Cycling Has Its Downsides
This isn’t a fairy tale. Cycling in London isn’t perfect. There are bad drivers. There are potholes. There are days when it’s pouring with rain and you question your life choices. Winter mornings can be dark, and summer traffic can be relentless. But here’s the thing: the Tube had downsides too — just different ones. And for me, those downsides felt heavier. With cycling, I could adapt. I bought better lights. I planned safer routes. I learned when to slow down and when to take the lane. Over time, the city felt less hostile and more predictable.
Why I Never Went Back to Full-Time Tube Travel
Now, when I do take the Tube occasionally, it feels claustrophobic in a way it never did before. I notice the stale air, the lack of movement, the strange tension that hangs over packed carriages. Cycling hasn’t just changed how I commute it’s changed how I experience London. The city feels smaller, more accessible, and more alive. I’m not rushing through it anymore. I’m part of it.
Final Thoughts: Choosing a Commute That Works for You
Quitting the Tube wasn’t about rejecting public transport or proving a point. It was about choosing something that made my days better instead of harder. Cycling gave me freedom, consistency, and a sense of calm I didn’t know I was missing. It turned dead time into valuable time and stress into something manageable. If you’re standing on a crowded platform wondering whether there’s another way to get across this city, there probably is. For me, that alternative was a bike and it changed everything. If you’re thinking about making the switch or upgrading your setup, places like Edgwarecycles can be the starting point for turning a frustrating commute into something you actually look forward to.