26.2 Miles. One Reason
- 1 day ago
- 3 min read
In less than two weeks from now, I’ll be standing at the start line of the Brighton Marathon. It’s strange to say that out loud, because for so long it didn’t feel real. It was just a date in my calendar, and the distance, something I was working towards without fully letting it sink in. Now, suddenly, it’s here.
The past six months haven’t just been about running. They’ve been about showing up on the days it felt easy and, more importantly, on the days it didn’t. Some runs felt effortless, like I could keep going forever. Others were slow, uncomfortable, and full of doubt. There were moments where stopping felt far more appealing than continuing. But I kept going. Not because every run was perfect, but because I had a reason not to quit. Running the Brighton marathon is more than a physical aspect, its mental. It has completely played with my mental health. However, this marathon isn’t just another challenge, or goal on my bucket list. It’s personal. I’m running in memory of my mum, Sandra.
She was born on 1st February 1958 and passed away on 9th January 2024 after a difficult and incredibly brave fight with lung cancer. Her illness moved quickly. After being diagnosed in May 2023, she went through multiple treatments — chemotherapy, radiotherapy, and Gamma Knife surgery to treat a brain tumour and several smaller ones. For a time, there was hope things were improving. But in December, the cancer spread further, and she was admitted to hospital. She never made it back home.
Before all of this, running was something we shared. We took part in 5Ks and 10Ks together for charities like Cancer Research and Great Ormond Street. Those moments are something I’ll always hold onto. Even when her arthritis and hip pain made it harder for her to continue, those memories stayed.
At some point during those runs, I told her I’d take on a marathon one day. This is me keeping that promise.
I’m not running with a charity place, as I didn’t want the added pressure of fundraising targets. But if anyone does want to support, I’ll be sharing a donation link for Maggie’s West London at Charing Cross Hospital. It meant a lot to my mum. The support she received there emotionally and practically made a real difference during an incredibly difficult time. It’s a place that helps people feel less alone, and that’s something worth supporting. But more than anything, just reading this, or offering encouragement, already means a lot.
Training hasn’t been straightforward. Alongside everything else, I’ve been dealing with perimenopausal symptoms, which have affected both my physical energy and my mindset. There have been emotional ups and downs, moments of doubt, and days where confidence felt out of reach.
Physically, it hasn’t been smooth either. A sprained ankle, ongoing knee pain due to arthritis, and recently discovering I have a flat foot on my left side, which wasn’t helped by wearing the wrong running shoes, all added extra challenges. I’ve since made changes, including getting better support with my footwear, and I’m slowly adjusting.
Despite everything, I’ve reached all my running goals, completing a 5km, 10km, 15km, a half marathon, 26km, and even pushing 44km in one week. That alone is something I’m proud of.
As race day gets closer, the questions are starting to creep in more often. Am I ready? Have I done enough? What if something goes wrong?
I don’t think those thoughts ever fully go away. But instead of fighting them, I’m learning to accept them as part of the process. Because the truth is, there’s no perfect preparation. There’s only doing your best with what you’ve got and I know I’ve done that.
Right now, it’s not about pushing harder. It’s about trusting the work that’s already been done. The final two weeks are about recovery, rest, and getting into the right headspace.
I’ve also had the support of a sports therapist, Eitan (Clinician 23) from The Holistic Health Care Clinics, who has helped me manage the physical side of things week by week. That support has made a real difference in getting me to this stage.
Soon, I’ll be standing in Brighton with everything behind me, the training, the setbacks, the emotions, the reasons. I don’t know exactly how the day will go. There might be moments where it feels good, and moments where it feels really tough. But I do know one thing, I’ll keep pushing forward, because this marathon means something. It’s not just about finishing, it’s about doing something I once promised I would do, for my mum.
