Running to escape the painful reality: Katy’s story

If I’m completely honest, I signed up for the 5k because I needed a focus. I needed anything that wasn’t hospital visits, oncologist appointments or the constant dread of waiting for more biopsy results. I was desperate for an outlet, a way to escape, even briefly, from the reality we were living in. What I didn’t expect was how much running would help.

Training became a lifeline. It gave me purpose on days when everything else felt out of control. I’ve never been a natural runner, back in my school days, I would do absolutely anything to get out of cross-country! I used the Couch to 5k app to allow me to build up slowly.

Being outside, breathing in fresh air, surrounded by nature, gave me moments of peace when my mind felt anything but calm.

On the morning of Sunday 23rd March, we received the call we had been dreading. Mum had been coded red, meaning she had taken a sudden turn for the worse and was likely in her final days, or even hours.

The guilt of feeling relief consumed me. Heartbroken, but knowing the suffering was coming to an end in a comfortable warm place with family surrounding.

My dad, sister and I moved into the care home, taking turns sleeping between two beds and the chair beside Mum so she was never alone. We stayed with her day and night, holding her hand, talking to her, laughing, crying, reminiscing and gently telling her it was okay to let go.

In true Mum fashion, stubborn to the end, she held on until Thursday, waiting until her favourite nurse had returned from holiday!

The days that followed were and still are a blur. We cleared Mum’s room, made countless phone calls to family and close friends, and tried to process the reality of what had happened, all while running on almost no sleep after five relentless days and nights.

By Sunday 29th, which was the Mother’s Day, I was utterly exhausted and emotionally numb. However, I knew I had to do the race. Not just for the people who had so generously sponsored me, helping raise over £2,500, but for Mum.

If she could endure years of gruelling treatments, endless tests and unimaginable uncertainty with strength, positivity and a smile, then I could find the strength to put one foot in front of the other.

When I look back now, I barely remember the race itself. What I do remember is crossing the finish line, overwhelmed with emotion, seeing my family and best friend and their proud faces, and the comfort of knowing Mum was with me every step of the way.

I cannot put into words the compassion, kindness and care we received from the Sue Ryder team at Manorlands Hospice. The staff went above and beyond, not just caring for Mum, but supporting our entire family.

Mum loved the outpatient wellbeing days. She thoroughly enjoyed learning to meditate, trying tai chi, exercising from her chair, and even having a pamper session with my sister and I by her side. Those moments gave us laughter, comfort and precious memories, at a time when joy felt hard to find.

We were also lucky to meet other families walking similar paths, and found solace in shared understanding, which was truly priceless.

The work Sue Ryder does is nothing short of astonishing, and it still shocks me their hospices rely so heavily on donations to keep going.

Taking part in the Mother’s Day Keighley 5k event again this year feels like the most meaningful way to honour Mum. To carry her memory with me.

I will always support Sue Ryder for as long as I live and I hope when it’s my turn to be in palliative care, I will be lucky enough to have them by my side.