Hi, I’m Amy, and I’m running a 10k. Sort of.

Let me be upfront: at the time I’m writing this, 8 weeks before the GWR I cannot run more than 1 kilometre. Twelve months ago I could barely run to the kettle. But on 24 May, I will be walk-running 10k, and I will finish it, because I am a bit stubborn and — let’s be real— I’ve been through worse.

In late 2023, I was diagnosed with breast cancer and spent 18 months either attached to a drip receiving chemotherapy, having radiotherapy, or recovering from a mastectomy and then a DIEP reconstruction. It was, to put it mildly, a lot.

But here’s the thing about cancer treatment: the NHS gets you through it, but there’s no quiet place to take in the shocking news you’ve just received. I don’t know about other hospitals but there’s no counselling offered as you watch your life fall apart, there’s no routine physiotherapy after mastectomy or DIEP on offer at the Royal Devon and Exeter. There’s not much of anything, really. Staff are superstars (who saved my life) but they are stretched beyond belief. Which is where FORCE comes in.

FORCE is a cancer support charity based in Exeter, and they quietly, consistently, brilliantly fill the gaps that the NHS can’t.

Here’s what they did for me personally:

Chemo: Most of my Kadcyla treatments (little chemo) were at their Ottery St Mary outreach chemo centre — which is staffed by RDE nurses but run by Force volunteers- it’s small, calm, and nothing like the busy wards at the RDE where I’d wait hours for my chemo to be made. You can’t bring anyone in with you during chemo, and my big chemo took 6-8 hours so having a cheerful FORCE volunteer appear with a drink or snack and a friendly face was genuinely more valuable than it sounds when you’re sitting there on your own for hours.

Centre: Their centre in the RDE hospital grounds is beautiful, warm, and comfortable. I may have accidentally napped there in a comfy chair between appointments during big chemo.

Counselling: If I’m talking about FORCE, I have to talk about my counsellor Paul, who I think might actually have saved my life. He was brilliant and practical and helped me through some of the darkest bits of this whole experience. He also ran their mindfulness course, which I loved so much that I am now, by my own declaration, a Mindfulness Queen.

Physio: FORCE also have a qualified physiotherapist — with the power to give advice, refer you into NHS services, and connect you with specialists. They referred me to finally get physiotherapy on the NHS (which RDE don’t offer post-mastectomy, even when I could hardly move my left arm — you know, the one I write with). And when I was “all better,” they pointed me towards a local cancer rehab gym programme that costs next to nothing compared with a personal trainer. They’ve helped build a whole network of specialist staff at local gyms. It’s amazing.

They do all of this for free, for cancer patients in Devon. Every penny raised supports patients at RDE and the surrounding area. They offer other services too, but these are the ones I used. And they constantly aim to offer more!

So: will I run this 10k gracefully? Absolutely not. I will be a human strawberry. I’ve been rehabbing at the gym, but I was initially advised not to run after chemo because it made me feel dreadful — and right now my “running” is best described as enthusiastic shuffling. But I’m doing much better with my energy, I’ve got a training plan, and I have the kind of bloody-mindedness that got me through the last couple of years.

If you’d like to sponsor me — and I very much hope you will — please donate below. Any amount is genuinely appreciated. Tell your friends. Tell your enemies. Tell anyone who owes you a favour.

Thank you so much. 💙

Amy