Bells & Rebels began in the after-hours of an ordinary office.
A few friends traded spreadsheets for sweat, swapping happy hours for kettlebells, and pushing themselves not for medals or metrics, but for clarity.

In a city like Vancouver BC, where nature dared you to rise to it, performance became the fastest way to know someone, and perhaps, to know yourself.

That was 2013. The world felt closer then. Work was still a place of connection. Friendships forged by late nights, shared wins, whispered doubts, and workouts that emptied the day’s noise.

But things changed. Slowly, then all at once.

The corporate world grew antiseptic. DEI fatigue. Remote everything. The virtualization of connection. Offices emptied. Screens replaced teams. Somewhere in the algorithm, something human got lost.

What didn’t fade were the quiet few who kept showing up. The ones who carried more than their titles revealed. Who kept training. Kept climbing. Kept choosing effort, even when no one was watching.

This is for them.

Bells & Rebels is a tribute to the white collar ascetic — the quietly committed, the globally mobile, the ones who live out of suitcases and slide decks, yet still train like it means something.

For them, the workout is a covenant.
Because of them, effort is sacred.

In a world where meaning erodes and identity is monetized, effort remains the last honest metric.

You can’t fake a marathon.
You can’t posture under a barbell.
You can’t shortcut self-respect.
You can’t delegate discipline.

Bells & Rebels is for those who never needed community, but recognize the signal when they see it. It’s a pact. A commitment made in sweat, not in status.

Welcome to Bells & Rebels.
A pact of performance.