My name’s Pam Newman, and I’m a runner. 

I read somewhere recently that running is an addiction, but unlike most addictions running becomes the life of you, not the death of you.

A year ago I had never run more than 5km in my life, because, quite simply, it had never occurred to me that I could.  Then one day back in January 2010, I was running on the treadmill and stopped at 5km as usual, had some water and in a split decision, carried on going. I ran 6km that day, and suddenly everything in my brain shifted. I realised that the boundaries I had were only in my head. I was the only person who had ever said I could only run 5km – and I had just proved that person wrong.

I suddenly had the need to find out what more I was capable of, and entered a 10km race.

A few weeks later I was supporting my friend Richard run the London Marathon. I stood on the sidelines cheering people on for hours. As the time ticked on and most runners had already crossed the finish line, I watched with the odd tear as people passed me who should by all accounts not be running. There was a man with a fridge on his back. There were 80year olds with a look of set determination, obese people, people missing limbs, blind people, each one crossing off the miles step by step. I realised that there was absolutely no reason for me to be standing on the sidelines. I had no excuse.

The next day I entered my first half marathon and the London marathon ballot, and I continued running.

I ran the Royal Parks half marathon on 10^th October. I make no bones about it, it was hard. Along the way I considered throwing myself off Westminster Bridge, I thought about losing myself in a thicket in Hyde Park, or hiding under Marble Arch. But I put one able foot in front of the other and ran all 21km.

I have become a runner. I have become one of those freaks who follow strange eating regimes and have training plans and quotes stuck all over my walls. I leave parties early and sober, because I always have a long run the next morning. I spend my salary on new trainers, protein shakes and race fees.

It definitely does not come easily to me. I’m not very good, I’m not fast, I will never win any races - but running has taught me so many things. Running is a metaphor for everything in life – it is proof that you can overcome anything by putting one foot in front of the other. With slow determination, anything can be achieved. It has taught me how important it is not to become complacent and how you need to set yourself goals, no matter how small or large. I have explored parts of London most people will never see. I have spent hours seeing sights and smelling smells and breathing air that I would never otherwise have been exposed to. I run because it clears my head. I run because you can never have a bad day after a good run. I run in memory of my parents who always encouraged an active life even when they were too ill to have one of their own. I run for my brother and sister – the two most important people in my life. I run for my family and friends old and new for their endless support and love. I run for people I used to know and people I have yet to meet. I run for Africa, my blood. I run because I have no reason not to – I have 4 working limbs, I have a functioning heart and lungs. I run because I can. 

Which brings me to the purpose of this page. I am running to raise money for Able Child Africa - a charity which works to improve the lives of disabled children across Uganda, Tanzania, Kenya and Zambia. Click on the link on the left to see the work they do - it's amazing. If this is my way to help hundreds of children who haven't been as blessed as I have, then I will gladly accept every painful step of it!

The past few weeks have been very dark, cold and rainy. The marathon is in 11 weeks time, by which stage I would have completed 1175km of training. It's not pretty, but I now recognise why I'm doing this! I'll appreciate every penny donated, more than you could ever know.

Love and Peace

Pam xxx