Jemma Vokes

Week 3, Day 2 🚴🏼‍♀️

Today’s ride to Fakenham has been a comedy of errors.

I appear to have become the pheromonal Pied Piper, cycling through Norfolk with an entire cast of 'A Bug's Life' in tow, while just about every other form of wildlife has also made a reappearance.

The highlight was cycling past the most beautiful fields of sunflowers, which genuinely made my day. 🌻

I’d deliberately avoided the most direct road into Fakenham because I was a bit anxious about it, so I chose an alternative route.

That worked brilliantly until I reached a locked farm gate across a public footpath. I had no idea why it was shut, but I had absolutely no intention of finding out whether the answer involved a bull or a farmer with a shotgun, so I turned around and carried on.

Google Maps then sent me on a magical mystery tour of North Norfolk before, in a final act of betrayal, bringing me straight back onto the very road I’d gone miles out of my way to avoid. For the final two miles. That was the point I hit a mental wall.

By then I’d been cycling for over two hours without breakfast, so I was extremely grateful for the caffeinated electrolytes in my bottle and the half-used carb gel I found lurking in my pannier. It was about two weeks old. Standards had slipped.

At that point, the finish line wasn’t just Fakenham. It was coffee and cake. ☕️🍰

46.43km done before breakfast! 

Thank you to everyone who has donated so far, it truly means a lot to me 

Cycle September — Ride 1/50

Today I cycled from Norwich to Holt, a route I’ve never cycled before, so this was very much a first for me.

And it’s probably fair to say I was woefully underprepared.

Across Sunday night and last night, I’d managed about eight and a half hours’ sleep in total. Yesterday, I spent nine hours at the yard with Chicken, our horse, while she was suffering from colic, and through the night I kept checking the CCTV camera on her shelter to make sure she was still okay.

So when this morning arrived, I was tired, nervous and running on very little. No breakfast. No fluids. No lunch packed.

Not exactly textbook preparation for cycling 24 miles.

But I got on my bike anyway.

Because I’ve committed myself to doing this.

Not as a race.

Not to be the fastest.

And not even to compete against myself.

I’m doing it to raise awareness of Combat Stress and vital funds to support veterans, serving personnel and their families with their mental health.

Because the people Combat Stress supports didn’t choose the demons they carry.

They don’t get to choose when difficult memories, thoughts or feelings surface, or how heavily they might weigh on them that day. Yet they still have to try to get up, face the day and keep moving forward while carrying battles most of us will never see.

And sometimes, they simply can’t.

Sometimes getting through the day is the challenge. Sometimes those battles become too heavy to carry alone.

That’s where Combat Stress can help, providing specialist mental health support when facing the day, never mind everything else, can feel impossible.

That was what I thought about this morning.

Yes, I was tired, worried and underprepared, but I still had a choice. I could get on my bike and face a challenge I had willingly set myself.

For many of the people supported by Combat Stress, the challenge isn’t something they chose.

It’s something they wake up carrying.

So getting on my bike this morning felt like the very least I could do.

Thankfully, along the route, Starbucks appeared. To my rumbling belly, it felt like a mirage.

One large protein coffee drank and a pain au chocolat eaten... with lunch purchased for later, I was considerably better equipped to continue than when I’d left home.

Then the Norfolk wildlife decided my ride needed to be a little more eventful and got involved.

First, a duck came flying out of a hedgerow and almost straight into my bike. It completely panicked and proceeded to flap alongside me for the next 20 or 30 metres. I genuinely don’t know which of us was more alarmed.

We went our separate ways and I carried on, assuming the memo had now been circulated amongst the wildlife to please avoid the mad cyclist.

Apparently not.

A little further down the road, a squirrel launched itself out in front of me and leapt across my handlebars.

I squealed at a pitch probably audible to every dog across the county, somehow stayed on the bike, and then spent roughly the next mile laughing my head off.

Life has a habit of throwing curveballs at you, occasionally in the form of an airborne duck or kamikaze squirrel, and very rarely does everything go exactly to plan.

You don’t have to start perfectly prepared.

You don’t have to feel your best.

You don’t have to be the fastest person on the road.

Sometimes you just have to do what you can, take the next bit of road in front of you and keep moving forward.

And when you can’t do that alone, there should be someone there to help you.

That, ultimately, is why I’m doing this.

This September I’ll be cycling at least 915 km (568 miles) to raise money for Combat Stress, the UK’s leading charity for veterans’ mental health

As a veteran myself, having served for 18 years, this charity means a great deal to me.

Mental health challenges can affect anyone who has served, and Combat Stress provides specialist treatment and support to veterans across the UK, helping them and their families navigate recovery together.

This challenge is built around my daily commute and weekend rides, choosing the bike over the car throughout September.

By the end of the month, I’ll have cycled at least 915 km (568 miles), with every ride recorded on the Strava app. I’ll also be sharing my progress on social media throughout the month, so you can follow the challenge and see the kilometres add up.

If you’re able to support me with a donation, no matter how small, I’d be incredibly grateful.

Every contribution helps Combat Stress continue providing life-changing mental health treatment and support to veterans and their families.

Thank you so much for your support 🚴🏼‍♀️🪖