Hello! Welcome back, or you know, maybe just welcome, because it is entirely possible that you’ve managed to resist my mum’s frequent attempts to get you to be interested in me, until now. You may still be fairly disinterested, that’s fine, I’m hoping to win you round with my ever so slightly over-indulgent levels of self-deprecation and a Just Cause (which you should read in the accent of Sean Connery in that film which was like To Kill a Mockingbird but the wrong way round. Well done, Hollywood). I digress.
So you might not know about this daft challenge I had a go at, to try EVERY SINGLE DISCIPLINE OF OLYMPIC SPORTS (apart from Greco Roman Wrestling, because only men do that) despite being a. disinterested in and b. very bad at sport. Over the course of the challenge, which garnered an almost unbelievable level of attention given the inherently sexist society in which we live and the prevailing general lack of interest in the sport of actual female athletes, some strange things happened to me.
Firstly, I discovered that I’m actually mad keen on a bit of sport and have since continued zipping about town on my beloved road bike – Beyoncé, running and doing a bit of boxing. Secondly, I realised how utterly bored I had been of my own existence (and related to this, I discovered that I quite like being the centre of attention – a point my brother has been making tirelessly for the last 32 years) and packed in my sensible career to FOLLOW MY DREAMS and write stuff that I rarely get paid for. Thirdly, I was almost smacked in the face by the revelation that there are women doing incredible, inspiring things ALL OVER THE WORLD that no one ever hears about, because they’re not just some idiot with a daft challenge.
So in the true reactionary style of the kind of person who quits their job because they did a daft Olympics-related project which they quite liked, I thought to myself: “What Would Beyoncé Do?”. Until I discovered that a very funny comedian already had a successful stage show of the same name, and hastily unthought it. Though while the form of words altered slightly (for legal reasons), the sentiment lingered like a sparkly, beautiful fart, and the seed was thus planted.
I would go on an adventure, on a sporty spiritual journey across the US of A. Let’s say from Harwich, Massachussets, (because you can’t cycle across the Atlantic ocean from my home town Harwich, Essex, where the pilgrims are from, FYI. SEE HOW IT ALL MAKES SENSE) to Houston, Texas, the hometown of Beyoncé (the person), on Beyoncé (my bike), meeting these inspiring people, in search of purpose.
And now I need your help, so I can meet unsung (and maybe even sung, depending on how nice they are) awesome women doing bold, adventurous, and dare I say it, fierce things across a shed load of (currently undefined) states.
• Do you know about cycling in America, because I certainly don’t! Get in touch!
• Do you have a pal who lives somewhere in the States betwixt Massachusetts and Texas who’d like to lend me their sofa for an evening (I still don’t really know when)? Get in touch!
• Do you know a fierce woman doing brilliant things somewhere in the States betwixt Massachusetts and Texas (Bonus points if she is a. a Beyoncé mega-fan, or b. Beyoncé)? Get in touch!
• Are you a bidnis and would you like to help facilitate this daft idea – maybe you’d like to sponsor me in some capacity (I’ll happily wear your T-Shirt or stand in front of some ostentatious branding)? Get in touch!
Contact wise, I am, like Craig David, all over your boink:
EMAIL ME! firstname.lastname@example.org
TWEET ME! @inspireajen
FACESTALK ME! www.facebook.com/inspireajen
DO IT! (thanks) xx