Earlier this summer I had the privilege of attending a lecture at the RGS all about a recent trip to the North Pole which had been undertaken by the charity, Walking with the Wounded.
Working in sports marketing I’ve had the honour of meeting many famous and inspiring sportsman including many of my boyhood heroes (I’m not ashamed to say that David Ginola literally made my knees turn to jelly when I met him) but it’s without a shred of hyperbole that I can say that I’ve never been so inspired as when I listened to the tales from the four wounded servicemen who were part of the incredible expedition.
Having listened to the exploits of Captain Mark Hewitt (paralysed right arm), Sergeant Steve Young (fractured vertebra), Captain Guy Disney (Amputee below right knee) and Private Jaco van Gass (amputee below left elbow) i felt inspired and duty bound to do something to support the charity. Well so inspired and duty bound that I talked about it for all of at least two minutes with my girlfriend (Pose) before I was distracted by the taste of a re-freshing pint of beer.
After a couple more pints and a decent supper safely inside my rather impressive tummy I went to bed with all thoughts of putting myself out or supporting the charity firmly at the back of my mind. However, the next day when talking about the lecture at work, Pose reminded me that I had boastfully proclaimed the previous evening that I would be interested in doing the next fundraising event – a cycle ride back from Switzerland to Norfolk. Clearly just bravado chat after such an inspiring talk – never did I expect those words to come back to haunt me.
Now, the truth is i often hear about charity events or sports trips and momentarily think that I could / should take part. Such is my passion for sport that I chose a career in the industry, however the sad truth is that my lack of athletic ability was so poor that I never stood a chance of doing anything sporting and had to settle for a career in the marketing and PR side of sport. I think the fact my nickname (which I still contest was rather unfairly bestowed on me) is Pies tells you all you need to know about my athletic ability.
However, by coincidence a few weeks later it turned out that one of Pose’s great family friends is one of the organisers of the obscenely long and gruelling 800 mile ride back from Crans Montana in Switzerland to Holkham Hall in Norfolk, and my fate was effectively sealed.
Having talked about the signing up for the ride in a rather nervous high pitched voice for the next few days I finally bit the bullet and put my name down to do the ride. This is when the reality hit. The opening day’s ride is 164km, the same as the opening leg of this year’s Tour de France. Having been at this year’s Tour and seen the super human strength and fitness of these cyclists - not to mention the rather disconcerting amount of lycra (is it really necessary – what’s wrong with cotton???) and shaved legs (surely real men don’t shave their legs) I don’t need telling just how tough just one day is going to be, let alone 10 days of solid, arse shredding cycling.
So there my journey began and as my brother so delicately put it Chafing for Charity was born. Next up my first experience of spinning and actually sitting on a road bike – or as they should be described, the most sophisticated torture instrument to have been invented by human hand.
If you would like to show your support for Walking with the Wounded please visit www.justgiving.com/Jonathon-Bates
If you would like to show your support for Walking with the Wounded please visit www.justgiving.com/Jonathon-Bates
