Hi. I’m Dave
I’ll be 61 when I set off to Cycle the 92. I live in Todmorden in West Yorkshire with my wife, Oksana, and for the past 21 years we’ve run our village shop together.
I’m not an elite cyclist, an endurance athlete or somebody who has spent a lifetime on a bike. In fact, until Covid I hadn’t really cycled for about 40 years.
I’m just someone who likes a challenge, enjoys meeting people and has reached an age where I think doing something worthwhile matters more than doing something impressive.
🧭 A Slightly Unusual Route Here
I left school and went straight into the Army. I had some incredible experiences, but when I left in 1989 I found the transition back to ordinary civilian life much harder than I expected.
I’d completed an engineering apprenticeship, so I eventually found my way into contract engineering, working on projects around the country, mainly in the power generation industry.
Life took a slightly unusual turn in 1993 when I bought a narrowboat and made it my home for the next seven years. For much of that time I lived on the River Avon between Bristol and Bath. My engineering work was often concentrated into the summer months, which left my winters free — so whenever I could, I’d pack a bag and go travelling, sometimes for as long as six months.
Eventually work brought me north for a three-year contract at Fiddlers Ferry Power Station. I moved my boat north to be closer to work and eventually found myself in Todmorden. When the contract finished, I realised how much I loved the area and decided to stay.
🏪 How I ended up running a Village Store
After deciding to stay in Todmorden, I bought a house and then a run-down property to renovate.
I’d met Oksana while travelling through Ukraine. She eventually joined me in Todmorden and we began building a life together here.
A couple of doors down from the house I was renovating was a little village shop. I became friendly with the woman who owned it and one day she told me she wanted to sell.
So we bought a shop.
Oksana was pregnant with our daughter at the time, so perhaps it wasn’t the most obvious moment to start a completely new adventure — but that’s what we did.
That was 21 years ago.
Together, we’ve built it into a multi-award-winning village store, selling everything from everyday groceries, beer and wine to fruit and veg, flowers and plants. We’ve been lucky enough to win Best Shop in Todmorden twice, along with other awards for the shop and our work in the community.
Running a village shop has taught me a lot about people and community. It’s not just about what you sell — it’s about knowing people, having a laugh with them, helping when you can and being part of the place where you live.
🚴 Back on a Bike
Until Covid, I hadn’t really cycled for about 40 years. Like a lot of people, I bought a bike during lockdown and decided I’d try to start cycling again.
It wasn’t easy. I was in my mid-50s and quickly discovered that getting fit again at that age is rather different from doing it when you’re 16. I’d get going during the summer, then hardly ride through the winter and feel as though I was starting again the following spring.
Gradually, though, cycling became something I genuinely enjoyed. Not because I’m particularly fast — I’m definitely not — but because I enjoy being out on the bike, seeing places and having a reason to keep going.
I’m quite happy riding slowly. For me, the journey has always been more important than how quickly I get there.
And somehow, buying that first bike during Covid has led to this: at 61, I’m going to try to cycle to all 92 Premier League and English Football League grounds.
❤️ Finding my “Someone”
I think some people are just made wanting to help others. When I was younger, I thought I could help everyone. As I’ve got older, I’ve realised that isn’t possible — and that trying to do so often doesn’t work out the way you imagine.
I’ve come to think about it differently. You can’t save everyone, but perhaps you can make a real difference to someone.
When Oksana and I went to Ternopil in January 2024 and spent time with the students at the vocational college, something about it stayed with me. We taught English, played games, talked, laughed and simply spent time with them.
One of the students wrote me a long letter before we left. She thanked us for coming and said that other people had visited to help before, but hadn’t really mixed or interacted with the students. That meant a great deal to me.
I’ve rarely felt that something I’d done was so genuinely appreciated.
Those young people have been through circumstances they never chose and can’t control. I can’t change what’s happening to their country and I certainly can’t help everyone affected by it.
I can’t help everyone. But I can help someone.
These are my someone.