Bell — Boxing Timer for iPhone. Free, no ads, no sign-up.

Your stopwatch doesn't ring

A stopwatch measures you. A round timer runs you. Once you're tired, that difference is the whole session.

A stopwatch counts

It won't tell you when to stop. You have to look — and looking is the thing you stop doing around round three.

A video timer takes your music

Screen on, headphones hijacked, phone face-up on the floor next to a swinging bag.

Bell rings over your music

Screen off, phone in your pocket, your own playlist still running. The bell cuts through it instead of stopping it.

Tired men negotiate. The bell doesn't negotiate — that's the entire reason boxing kept it.

Train tonight →

Two hands already taped in black boxing wraps, raised to guard

See the whole round

Work, rest and rounds — on one ring.

Every interval in the session is a segment on the same ring. Filled ones are behind you, the burning one is now, the outlines are what's left. You read the whole round at a glance instead of decoding one number.

Anatomy of a round: numbered callouts on the ring mark the round counter, the current interval, where you are now, the interval and round progress, and the work and rest lengths

Round counter
You are here
Interval progress
Work and rest lengths

A boxer working the heavy bag in a gym, seen from behind

Runs in background · Bell still rings

Pick your fight

Six presets that open and start. Or build your own — any work, any rest, any number of rounds.

The Bell workouts screen with six ready-made bag sessions

Tabata

0:20 / 0:10 · 8 intervals · from the 1996 protocol

Twenty on, ten off, eight times. Four minutes that read like ten — if you actually go. If round eight looks like round one, you didn't do Tabata.

Heavy Bag 30/30

0:30 / 0:30

Honest conditioning. The interval is too short to stretch the pace, so there's no round to hide inside.

A boxer resting on the ropes of a training ring

Punch-out Ladder

Intervals climb, then descend

The way up is easy. The way down is the point — fatigue arrives on the climb, character shows on the way back.

Burpee + Bag

Floor, then straight to the bag

Punching with no air in you is its own skill. Cross-training, not bag work — technique goes first, so keep it to once a week.

A row of heavy bags hanging on chains along a gym wall

Shark Tank

Short rounds, short rest

In a gym, a shark tank means a fresh partner every minute while you stay in. Alone with a bag you don't get the fresh partner — you get the schedule that made it hurt.

Plank 3 Minutes

One hold

Not a core exercise at three straight minutes. It's a character check. Keep the hips down or don't count it.

Start with Tabata tonight

Why the round exists

Three minutes is not a random number. It's roughly how long you can hold real output before your body changes fuel on you. The first ninety seconds run on what's already in the muscle. After that the burn arrives in the shoulders, the hands drop two inches without asking, and the round starts putting questions to you. That's the job of the round. Not the punching — the questions.

The minute of rest isn't a break. It's work. Heart rate falls hard in the first fifteen seconds if you're conditioned, then flattens out. You breathe through the nose, you stand tall instead of folding over your knees, you shake the hands loose. What you take back in that minute decides what round three looks like — and round three is where sessions are actually lost.

The last ten seconds

Ten seconds left and everyone in the room speeds up. Every single time. It's the only moment of the round where the beginner and the pro look the same — and the only ten seconds that change anything.

The minute

Watch the hands. Beginners fold over their knees. The ones who've been around stand up, hands on the hips, breathing through the nose, looking at nothing. You can pick out who lasts to round six from across the room.

Round three

Hands drift down to the ribs, everything shortens to a one-two, and a voice starts offering you a deal — take this one easy, go hard on the next. Round one doesn't know who you are. Round three does.

A boxer's bare torso between two heavy bags, hands raised in a guard, in front of a painted gym wall

Your opponent is the version of you that stayed home tonight. He knows every excuse you have. Beat him at the bell.

Tonight. And every night.

Show up daily. Go hard sometimes.

Every fighter you've heard of trains most days of the week. Almost none of them go hard most days of the week. Two hard sessions, maybe three. The rest is rope, footwork, light bag, hands and hips.

The daily part isn't about intensity. It's about not letting the gap open. Two days off is rest. Two weeks off is starting over.

So the only streak worth anything is the streak of showing up. Some nights that's twelve rounds. Some nights it's three easy ones and the rope. Both count. Both go in the log.

The one who does less per session wins on volume — because he shows up

If your resting heart rate climbs, your sleep goes bad, or your hands hurt before you start — that's not weakness, that's the signal. Take the day. Come back tomorrow. The bell isn't going anywhere.

One round tonight

Bell history screen with rounds and minutes over time

Close-up of a fist in a hand wrap, the boxer's body behind it — **No streaks to break**The history screen is an archive, not a score. It counts what you've already done — rounds and minutes, adding up. There is no number here that goes down, nothing to protect, and no red mark for the night you didn't come.

Miss a day and nothing is lost. Every round you've worked is still on record.

MTWTFSS

Bell weekly leaderboard among friends, resetting every Monday

The week is the fight

Every Monday the board goes back to zero. Nobody is ahead. Nothing carries over.

Weekly training minutes, ranked among the friends you add. It runs on Game Center, so there's no account to make and nothing to sign up for. You can ignore it entirely and the timer works the same.

Friends see your minutes, not your boxing. No technique, no strength, no ranking of you as a fighter. Just whether you showed up.

Be on the board by Monday

The fine print

No ads.
No sign-up.
No subscription.
No AI coach.
No training programs.
No one selling you anything at round five.

It's a timer. That's the whole pitch.

iPhone only. 13 languages.

How to actually train with it

Written by a coach, not by us. Short answers to the things people ask in their first month.

How long should a session be?

Three to six rounds is a real session. Twelve is a hard one. If you're starting out, three rounds of two minutes with the full minute between them is plenty for the first week — and it will not feel like it by round three.

Two-minute rounds or three?

Elite amateurs box three minutes, everyone below that boxes two. Start at two. Move up when the last thirty seconds stop being a negotiation with yourself.

How long is the rest?

One minute. That's the rule in the ring and there's no reason to change it at home. If you need two, the round was too hard — not too long.

What am I supposed to do in the rest?

Stand up straight, hands off your knees, breathe through your nose. Folding over feels better and recovers worse. Watch anyone experienced in a gym: they stand.

How often?

Most days of the week. But two hard sessions, maybe three — the rest light: rope, footwork, easy bag. The gap between sessions costs you more than the intensity of any one of them.

I don't have a heavy bag.

Shadow box. Same rounds, same bell. The timer doesn't care what you're hitting, and your legs and hands still do the work. A bag punishes bad technique; empty air lets you fix it.

Full guide: heavy bag workout for beginners →