I am going to run along the Canal Du Midi from Toulouse to Sete, a distance of just over 250km in 6 days with my friend, Derek. We start on June 18th, 2019.

Over my 18 years as an educator, I've seen the devastating effects of depression on the boys I teach and coach, and know many of them continue to struggle as they get older. Organizations like CALM don't exist in Delhi, Doha or Cairo, but their UK based helplines and webchat can help those who need it.  There are also men, who are dear to people I love, but whom I will never meet because of depression  

200 young men call CALM to seek help every night. £1200 will fund all of their helplines for one night. Hopefully, I can raise much more

UPDATE:

I’ve been very public about this run and deeply touched by all the support. I write this on the plane as a sort of ending to the whole adventure.  

Flying out of Toulouse and seeing the canal snaking it’s way across the countryside the scale of what we did hit me. I could see the Black mountains and the Alaric mountains; but the valley down which we ran was shrouded in morning fog, our final destination stymied. Even from up high I couldn’t see how far we ran. 

Much of the run was a blur. It was attritional at times, especially after I hurt my knee, but the lucid moments when the serenity of the French landscape made me take mental snapshots were many and glorious. Occitanie is an exceptionally beautiful part of the world. 

The shift in landscape was the most noticeable measurement of change and time while running.  The fields of Toulouse are dominated by corn, which shifts to wheat, and then vineyards with dark dark soil. The vines continued endlessly and as we moved the soil became lighter with hues of brown and yellow, and the curves of the land became fuller and more dramatic.  The colors of France are glorious, especially when the blue sky punctuates the land. 

My body isn’t in great shape as I write, but I marvel at how resilient and capable a thing it is.  The mental pushing the physical through fatigue and pain to keep it moving, albeit slowly and not well down hills. Even on a run like this my mind wanted faster times, wanted a particular pace and a particular distance.  I ran a 5 minute 42nd km on day 3 to meet a goal. I didn’t need to, but the mind will power the body through. 

The quietness of the run forced my mind into itself for long periods though this was hardly time for life altering reflection.  Make hay while the sun shines was my silent mantra.  I soon discovered that the trail condition is the most important thing on a run like this.  Is it flat, wide and firm? Make hay, run hard. When the trails collapsed into a barely visible track and humidity reached 80% on the long exposed sun drenched sections it is difficult to keep going.  The next shade, the next curve, the next......anything, just don’t stop before then, but as soon as you are there pick a new point and go. If the trail improves make hay.  The mind pushes the body. Despite this there were times, especially on the afternoon of the 2nd day when thoughts of giving up dominated my head. Too hot, too humid, too rough and narrow a path.  At those moments short walks helped but sending my mind back to hours in the pool to rehab my groin, waking up at 4am to run before it got too hot on the shadeless Cairo roads were the drivers to keep going.  I didn’t give so much then to not give more now. Who am I and what can I do? One foot in front of the other. Go.  

Not that this trip was a hardship. The joy of the unknown at every corner, the mystery of what views the canal would hold for us while The magnificent barges meandered serenely along the canal, the Ecluses (lockes) playing out the slow dance of policing progress and tide, and the endless bonjours that Derek and I called out and received steeled my mind and heart. These small moments were many and will stay with me. 

The finale was wonderful.  I lost myself in happiness shouting and screaming for the last moments as we arrived at the lighthouse and the Mediterranean. Derek, my running partner and friend, dropped to the ground in prayer while I hugged the walls of the lighthouse and wondered what on earth do I do now? 

Think about the run and what it means I suppose, although that will take time. To thank the people who supported us for sure. The messages and donations were incredibly important in staying buoyed, without them thoughts of stopping would have been more prevalent. 

As I fly home to my family over the snow capped mountains of the Pyrenees my excitement peaks. Maybe next year. For now I need to rest, I think I deserved it.  

CALM, the campaign against living miserably, offers men support and information when they’re down or in crisis at www.thecalmzone.net. 

 We exist to prevent suicide, the single biggest killer of men aged under 45 in the UK. Latest figures show that 76% of all UK suicides were male. CALM PROVIDES A free and anonymous helpline 0800 585858 and webchat (5pm-12am daily) staffed by trained professionals. Help us save lives.