I am running the Royal Parks Half Marathon in memory of my amazing mum, Yasmin.

She died on 19th December 2012 (the day after my 28th birthday - I suspect she hung on by sheer will power; she was like that). She was young - only 51 years old, and incredibly strong, but she had been fighting MS (Multiple Sclerosis) for the last 24 years.

And believe me - 'fighting' is the word. When she was diagnosed, I was only little, and she was terrified that the disease would stop her being the brilliant mum she wanted to be. Of course she didn't let that happen; she gave me unconditional love and huge inspiration, and I will always be grateful to her for those priceless gifts. But it was not easy for her. She protected me as much as she could, hiding her suffering as far as possible, to allow me to enjoy my childhood.  But she did suffer.

Yasmin was an athlete. (She played netball at university level whilst at Cambridge, and I still remember her on the sidelines of my netball matches at school. I played Goal Defence, her position, and she made me laugh by YELLING "Stick to her like glue Bella! Stick to her like glue!" while the other parents clapped politely.) And she *loved* to dance - anyone who's ever seen me on the dancefloor, now you know where I get it from! MS took this away from her. First, her muscles stiffened, forcing her to rely on a walking stick, then walking long distances became too tiring, and so she would use a wheelchair on trips. Gradually her legs seized up to the point where she couldn't even stand. This was incredibly frustrating and upsetting for her, and she tried everything - traditional medicine, physiotherapy, every alternative therapy you can think of. She experimented with every super healthy diet anyone recommended.

But it was a losing battle. She had progressive degenerate MS, which just kept getting worse. Yasmin always had a house full of books (this is what makes a house a home, for me) and soon she couldn't read them, because of her double vision. She was a writer (after she died I found some of her poetry, and it is beautiful) this was an emotional release for her, and soon she couldn't write, because her hands would shake too violently. Eventually, her arms seized up altogether, so that she could no longer do anything for herself - washing, eating, changing the channel on the TV, or playing our favourite board game: Guess Who?

My mum was a fiercely independent woman. She grew up, a poor black child in Manchester in the '60s and '70s, with a mum who was mentally unstable, and an absent father. Her childhood was riddled with abuse. She went in and out of care homes and foster homes and attended about 30 different schools. And yet she taught herself to read as a toddler, became head girl, and got into Cambridge University. For her, to become entirely dependent on other people for her most basic needs was humiliating. To have her daughter change the pads she needed due to being doubly incontinent was distressing to say the least.

Yasmin's final pleasure was food - she adored food, and chocolate could lift her mood on the worst of days. But MS took that away too. The muscles in her throat became so weak that she became unable to swallow. And for the last few years she had a tube going directly into her stomach, for the liquid feed necessary for nutirition. This weakness in her throat also took away her ability to speak. She was an intimidatingly intelligent woman, and opinionated doesn't even begin to cover it. And for her final years she had to rely on us trying to lip read everything she was saying, which as you can imagine, tends to restrict the flow and scope of conversation somewhat. 

I still find it astonishing to reflect on how positive my mum remained throughout all of this. She never lost her sense of humour, and she would say 'Thank you' to her (wonderful) carers right up until the end, never becoming bitter or resentful. I stayed with her in hospital in her final weeks, when she had pneumonia, a collapsed lung, and huge air pockets in her bowel which could rupture at any moment, and every time I asked her for a smile, she gave me the warmest smile I have ever seen.

If she could do that, I figure the least I can do is run half a marathon! And the least YOU can do is sponsor me LOADS of money :)

I have many happy memories of my mum. She was the strongest person I have ever met, and she always looked for the best in life and made the most of it.  But no one should have to go through what she went through. MS is a horrific disease, and it is terrifying because so little is known about it, so as a sufferer, or someone who loves a sufferer, you don't even know what to prepare yourself for. You just wait for the next symptom to arrive and tear another part of your life away.

Research is desperately needed. The MS Society will fund that research. They need your money to do that. Give it to them please.

Donating through JustGiving is simple, fast and totally secure. Your details are safe with JustGiving – they’ll never sell them on or send unwanted emails. Once you donate, they’ll send your money directly to the charity. So it’s the most efficient way to donate – saving time and cutting costs for the charity.

So please dig deep and donate now.

THANK YOU WONDERFUL GENEROUS PEOPLE

(You make life worth all the crap.)

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