It was the autumn of 2007; much had changed, I was unhappy, I was 15 stone big and I felt 15 stones of big unhappiness. Though I thought a lot about being healthy, I wasn’t. So much had changed around me however more change was needed; change was needed of me and within me.

Change is hard.

Change is very hard.

Change can be just too hard.

Finding the desire to press the off button and rise from the comfy chair is tough.

Actually pressing the off button and rising from the comfy chair is really tough.

Pressing the off button, rising from the comfy chair and not getting distracted by something else is stupidly tough.

It is easy to procrastinate, to shy away from what is right, to make excuses, to set an ever future deadline. To never get around to it, to never quite start, to never make that first excursion, to never make that first meeting with the world of physical activity, a world where up to this point others lived happily but I did not, I did not visit there and I did not feel I belonged there.

Oh the number of reasons one can make to not and to fill time with unproductive, unhealthy and ultimately unrewarding endeavours.

But somehow, for some unknown reason I began to kindle the inner desire to be something else, to be someone else. It was a desire very easily overpowered by sloth, it was slow going. Everyone was fitter than me, everyone was better than me, everyone seemed happier than me.

The merest jog was lung busting, was I deluding myself? Was it too late for me? Was there any hope that I could achieve anything?

Skip forward 6 years and yes there was hope, not much hope, at times it seemed little hope and at other times it seemed virtually no hope at all but through digging deep, deeper and so deep that it became dark, a transformation has been possible.

I am now a me that I wondered if I could be, I may never be the me I want to be but I am a better me than I used to be.

However I have no desire to rest and reflect. Though I have said good bye to 4 stone of me and hello to a bunch of triathlon and ultra-marathon t-shirts, my real challenges are yet to be realised.

Welcome to autumn 2013, can I run 100 miles? Yes “100 miles” not in a year, not in a month, not even in a week, in a single attempt, single non-stop journey? Yes I have run 50 miles, to be honest I have run 62, but that is a long long way from 100. That is another 38 long, gruelling, painful miles.

“But you were wrecked after 50 miles and had to turn inside out to reach 62.” says old inner me from the comfy chair.

So is it doable?

“Yes. Yes it is, I think” says now me.

…but it will require something special, that inner strength that I aim to build piece-by-piece each and every day, an inner strength that I first caught a glimpse of 6 years ago when I found just enough confidence to leave by the front door and wobble down the street puffing and panting and hoping that know body would notice me. Perhaps those memories will help me in the darkest moments of my 100 mile adventure?

 

I hugely value any support you are able to offer as I take on this challenge to support the Macmillan cancer support nurses who dedicate themselves to providing help and care for those who sadly are affected by hideous cancers.