50 miles is a long way in one go and my feet have only just recovered from last year.

One of my abiding memories of my time working at the John Radcliffe Hospital is the arrival of so many  deceased young men and women from Afghanistan, via Lyneham and latterly Brize Norton.

Often, listening to the news as I drove home after witnessing the arrival of the procession, I would hear that soldiers had been killed or injured, typically by an IED and I realised that “injured” meant serious, live threatening or life changing wounds, not the sort of thing that one could just stick a bit of plaster over.

So this walk is my way of acknowledging other people’s sacrifice and to do something to support them.