When people want to support you, they usually send a message, make a donation, or perhaps bring biscuits.
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My sister decided to run 50 miles.
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Fifty.
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For context, that’s roughly the distance sensible people prefer to travel by car, with snacks and air-conditioning.
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But apparently running it is also an option.
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She’s doing this to help raise funds for my poetry book, which I hope will raise funds for cancer research and support the vital work organisations like Cancer Research UK and Blood Cancer UK are doing.
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While I spend my time navigating hospitals and writing poems, she’ll be navigating hills, blisters, and increasingly questionable life choices.
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Somewhere around mile 30 she may start wondering whose idea this was.
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The answer is: hers.
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I’m incredibly grateful, slightly concerned about her sanity, and very proud of her determination.
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If love could be measured in miles, she’s already gone quite far.
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But apparently she still has 50 to go.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/the-last-breath-poet-a-book-of-survival-hope-and-meaning