From one bridge to another, and back to the saddle I swore I'd never sit on again.

Two years ago I did something I'm still not entirely sure my body has forgiven me for. I cycled 205 miles for the Sailors' Children's Society, despite one fairly significant issue: I don't cycle. Never have. Up to that point, my relationship with a bike had been strictly decorative.

By the finish line I'd found muscles I didn't know I owned, and holes I genuinely wish I hadn't. Bits of me that had led quiet, respectable lives suddenly started filing formal complaints. I sat down very carefully for about a fortnight.

So naturally, I'm doing it all again.

The Bridge to Bridge is 205 miles from the Queen Elizabeth II Bridge in Dartford up to the Humber Bridge. Two days. This September. Me, a bike, and a growing sense that I never learn.

Here's why it's worth every wince.

Right now, hundreds of children from seafaring families across the UK are in real trouble. Some have lost a parent. Others are living through illness, family breakdown, or the sort of hardship that forces impossible choices. Heat the house or feed the kids. A winter coat or the gas bill. That's not a hypothetical. That's a decision real families are making this year.

The Sailors' Children's Society steps in when those families have nowhere else to turn. Monthly grants for food and heating. School uniforms. Warm clothes. Emotional support when things fall apart. Every pound you give goes straight towards a child feeling safe and looked after.

And now for the best part.

Every single £1 you donate gets matched by the Matthew Good Foundation. You put a quid in, they put a quid in. Your fiver becomes a tenner without you lifting a finger. When was the last time doing a good thing came with a buy-one-get-one-free?

I'm aiming to raise £3000 - so anything you can donate, will be absolutely brilliant.

So please, chip in whatever you can. Every donation gets me closer to the target, and closer to a place where I can sit down again like a normal person.

Thank you. See you on the other side of the Humber.