My Story

Mum was first diagnosed with breast cancer at the end of 2012, just before I turned 15, without a doubt one of the hardest years of my life. Mum was so strong; she made it through radiotherapy, chemotherapy and a mastectomy and received the ‘all clear’ 12 months later.

What followed were some of the best years with mum, where I was lucky enough to make some amazing memories…holidays, countless theatre trips, graduation...precious times for which I'll always be grateful.

Another one of those memories was running the Birmingham half marathon in 2018 to raise money for charity and mark mum’s 5 years cancer free. For someone who’s never been particularly sporty or a runner, this was not easy at all and I swore at the time I’d never run long distance again…

Heartbreakingly, 3 years later mum was re-diagnosed with stage 4 metastatic breast cancer, which was incurable. I was absolutely devastated and couldn’t comprehend the idea of her never getting better. 

The statistics for stage 4 metastatic breast cancer are scary, with the 5-year survival rate at around 32% (in other words, only about 32% of people diagnosed will still be alive 5 years later). 

Initially mum responded well to treatment, which, when coupled with her drive to live life to the fullest, meant she was still able to do many of the things she loved. I remember thinking at the time, perhaps we were some of the lucky ones, perhaps mum would be one of the 32%. She laughed her way through the countless hospital visits and always managed to keep a smile on her face. I’m pretty sure it was around this time that she coined her famous saying…’It is what it is’ as the whole situation was completely out of her control. 

But 18 months later, things rapidly deteriorated and the cancer started taking over. Mum was taking over 20 tablets a day, just to try and suppress the immense pain she was in, and cancerous fluid was building up around her heart and lungs, making it difficult for her to breathe. By this time every day was a struggle for mum, and I took time off work to help care for her, as even walking around unaided became impossible.

She went on like this for several months but eventually Mum decided that she'd had enough, making the bravest decision I've ever known, to stop further treatment and let the illness take its course. 3 days before she died, I remember washing her hair for her (her hair always had to be right!) and the song “Lean On Me” came on...she looked at me and said “well this couldn’t be more true”…Lean on me, when you’re not strong. I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on. 

On 28th July 2023, at home in the living room, I said my final goodbye to mum. I told her how much I loved her and that she was the best friend I will ever have and the strongest woman I will ever know.

My life changed forever that day, as a piece of me went with her. 2 years on, I still struggle to believe that she’s really gone and that I’ll never be able to hug her again. 

Until now, running a marathon has felt impossible…mentally and emotionally, I’ve not been in a place where this challenge seemed feasible. Physically, running a half marathon was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, so to double that distance for a marathon terrifies me, I’ll be honest. 

But since mum passed, I’ve learnt the importance of not taking life for granted and pushing myself out of my comfort zone. And what better way to do that than by running a marathon to raise money for an amazing charity like Breast Cancer Now. When they called me to offer me a place on the team, I must admit, I sobbed…this challenge marks a huge milestone in the journey. 

Any donations at all mean the world to me. I could have lost mum at 15, so in that sense, we were some of the lucky ones. If I can help give just one person the chance to live those extra years and see their children grow up, then this will all be worth it. 

Thank you for reading my story.

I love you mum…this one’s for you x