Alice “doesn’t-even-run-for-a-bus” Capper got some serious post-nights delirium and though it would be funny to enter the London Marathon.

Smash cut to 3 months later and it turns out that saying your dad died of cancer and that you’ll be a cancer doctor when the marathon happens is pretty good marketing and now you’re in the awkward position of having to actual train for and run the thing, as well as raising 2 and a half grand for Macmillan

Macmillan are a banger of a charity who make a ridiculous difference to the lives of people living with cancer and their families. They provide information and support to them, give them cash when they need it to cover unexpected costs and loss of income (and the cost of living crisis - eyes on you Rishi, big shout out well done…), and bail idiot doctors like me out of a hole when we struggle to explain things to patients and their families by sending us the actual angels that are the Macmillan cancer specialist nurses. They are the only people in the world who can tell someone they have terminal cancer and still get a “thank you” at the end of the chat.