As seen in Pick Me Up!: Clipping my helmet into place as I left the office, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. I’d had a busy day, but I was ready to hit the road.

Jumping on my pedal bike, as the wind hit my face all my stress melted away.

I’d always been active and exercise was a huge part of my life. My weekends were filled with road trips, kite surfing, mountain biking and climbing. I cycled the 16-mile round trip to work every day, hit the gym at lunchtime, then liked to get out onto the water in the evening when I could, too.

And that day, a glorious spring evening in March 2014, I left work and headed off on the eight-mile ride to a lake just outside of central Oxford for a spot of wakeboarding. Coming out of the city, I headed a mile down the road – and as the traffic light ahead of me turned green, I pedalled hard to keep momentum. But as I sailed through, a car came out of nowhere, cutting across my path. It must have skipped a red light. And before I knew what was happening, I felt my body crumple as I smashed into the rear passenger door at 15mph. It felt like hitting a wall.

Screaming as I fell to the ground, one of my feet was stuck on the pedal thanks to my cycling cleats, while my other foot had come out of the shoe and my leg splayed out under the bike.

‘Help!’ I shouted out.

‘Are you OK?’ a stranger asked, rushing over to me.

In a daze, I tried to take in my surroundings. Trapped under the bike, I realised I couldn’t move as pain shot through me.

The traffic noises around me started to fade as people helped lift my bike off me, and passers-by who’d stopped to help shuffled me to the kerb.

Thankfully once the initial shock had subsided, I seemed to be mostly OK, apart from a few scrapes and bruises – although my right arm was in a lot of pain.

One of the people who’d stopped to help called an ambulance, while I called my husband Alex, 37, as the police showed up, too.

‘I’ve been in an accident,’ I told him, my voice trembling.

Alex met me at John Radcliffe Hospital in Oxford half an hour later, where the extent of my injuries became clear. My finger was dislocated, my right shoulder had doubled in size and my hip was damaged, too.

‘Get some rest, you should be fine,’ doctors said, discharging me after a few hours.

Back at home I was completely exhausted but in good spirits.

‘I was lucky,’ I said to Alex – I was confident that with a bit of rest I’d be fine and back out cycling, wakeboarding and climbing again in no time.

The thought of cycling on a road again was scary after what I’d been through, but I refused to let that stop me.

But as the weeks passed, if anything the pain got worse.

I assumed it was just the bruising and swelling.

These things take time, I told myself. But I couldn’t help thinking that something bigger was wrong.

And after two months of steroid injections to help the pain, I was referred to a specialist who discovered that my shoulder was dislocated.

I underwent full reconstructive surgery in April 2015 and I knew I faced a daunting recovery – but I was prepared to do whatever it took to get back on my feet.

I couldn’t help thinking something was wrong
And a few months post-op, I decided to buy a motorbike to commute to work as I was still unable to cycle.

I was terrified, but I knew I had to overcome my fear of being on the roads.

‘I don’t think I can do this,’ I said to Alex as I straddled the bike on our driveway.

But as I gently revved the engine and eased off the drive, I felt a rush of adrenaline. The motorbike gave me the adventure I craved, without pushing my physical limitations too far.

I spent the next year slowly trying to build my strength up and get my life back, and for Alex and me, motorbiking became our new hobby.

But in April 2016, I was devastated to discover I needed hip surgery. It had been causing me a lot of pain, and doctors discovered it was more badly damaged than they’d first realised.

I underwent a seven-hour operation at Cambridge Spire Hospital to fix my joint, ligament and cartilage.

Life as I knew it came to a halt – again. I became dependent on Alex for basic tasks, and I had to learn how to walk all over again.

For someone who’d always been so fit and active, I really struggled. It had been over two years since the accident, and at times it felt like I was going backwards – but I was determined to get back to my old self again.

‘Please can I have a dirt bike?’ I spontaneously said to Alex one morning.

‘If that’s what you want,’ he replied, grinning excitedly. I’d never ridden a dirt bike, but I loved to ride motorcycles, so I was excited to give it a go.

Of course, I had to wait to be mobile enough post-surgery, but we started the hunt and found a great beginner’s bike.

And I was over the moon to see it sat on our driveway a few days later.

Five months later, in September 2016, I was able to steadily ride my dirt bike near to home.

It was completely blissful. I was only going slowly, but it was enough to give me a glimpse of my old life.

But there was a niggling feeling in my hip, and eventually I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

After a private scan, I was devastated to discover that my previous surgery had broken down and I had shrapnel in my hip.

My whole world fell apart when doctors broke the news that I needed yet another operation.

Over the next four years, I underwent four more surgeries to fix my hip and it felt like I was constantly doing physio.

I was craving off-road racing, but I couldn’t take the risk with the damage to my hip.

I spent countless nights in my garage just practising and strengthening my core by doing squats and lunges.

Eventually, I mastered a lot of balancing techniques on my dirt bike, and Alex and I were both so proud of how far I had come. I even started riding again tentatively, too.

‘I’m starting to feel like me again,’ I whispered to myself happily.

And the more I rode my dirt bike and the more I got my confidence back, the more I realised how much I loved it – and how good I was at it.

So in 2020, I took the plunge and competed in my first off-road race.

It was exhilarating – zooming around on off-road courses like gravel, mud or grassy roads. Over the next few years, I entered more competitions and I fell more and more in love with the sport.

In a twisted way, I’m grateful for the accident
And in February 2024, I completed my most challenging race yet – an extreme 13-day race from Nador in Morocco to Dakar in Senegal, nearly 3,500km.

Afterwards I was absolutely shattered and every muscle in my body was tired.

But it was definitely my biggest accomplishment outside of my recovery.

I’m the first British female to ever finish this event, and I’m proof that a bad accident doesn’t define you.

The past 10 years have been a rollercoaster ride for me, but without the accident I wouldn’t have found my new favourite sport or achieved any of the amazing things I have.

So in a strange, almost twisted way, I’m grateful for it.

It was hands-down the worst thing that’s ever happened to me, but it’s taught me strength and resilience.

If I can overcome that, I can overcome anything.

Now, with a collection of nine bikes, I’m on a mission to inspire other women to join me on the track.

You can do anything you put your mind to – don’t let fear hold you back.

If you’re new to my page – it’s more than just dirt bike riding, Harleys and racing, I’m on a mission to prove that nothing is impossible if you want it bad enough. See more about my story plus read about my life-changing accident, which started it all.

You can find me Vanessa, The Girl On A Bike over on Threads, WhatsApp, Instagram, Facebook, Tiktok and YouTube, and www.thegirlonabike.com.