At the grand old age of 66 I think I might now be a grown-up. Yes I have arthritis (since I was in my 20s actually) & asthma but that hasn't stopped me completing 200+ marathons/ultras to raise funds for Alzheimer's Research UK and I'm not ready to stop just yet! With the help of my wonderful friends I've already raised over £60,000 since I started supporting ARUK but there's still more to do.

So I needed something that would challenge me even more than some of my past fund-raising antics including knitting & crocheting whilst running marathons to gain several Guinness World Records, completing 52 marathons in less than 52 weeks, completing a 100 mile event, knitting whilst riding on the back of a tandem at the Isle of Wight Randonne amongst other things, all to attract attention to the need for research into the devastating effects of Dementia.

My challenge for 2023 is to complete 10 marathons in 10 days.

This challenge is really going to push me to my own personal limits and beyond! I have had to rearrange it twice already due to injury so I've decided to give up trying and just moved it into 2023. 

Why am I still doing this? Well, I was completely devastated having to watch my mum descend into the depths of dementia and I still believe there is more we can do so I continue to raise funds for ARUK.

Here's mums story:

In 1997 my mother, then aged 81, had a series of minor strokes. 

Shortly after that we started to notice behavioural changes notably memory loss and confusion over everyday items. We thought it was just old age finally catching up with her. Then she started wandering and had violent mood swings. Although she already lived with us it became obvious that she couldn't be left alone for long and so I left my job to care for her. 

The next few years saw a gradual decline into the blackness that is 'vascular dementia'. My normally placid mum became violent and aggressive. She had psychotic incidents where she would see imaginary people (children hiding in her wardrobe, Russians sitting on the stairs, women stealing her clothes) and she would shout at them and sometimes throw things too. She was so convincing that we used to go and check that there wasn't anyone there! When my sister died mum did not know who Judy was or that she was her daughter. There came a point when I suddenly realised she no longer knew that I was her daughter and this was a terrible time for me. 

In the last 2 years that she lived with us, life for us all became almost unbearable as she needed 24 hour care - she couldn't be left alone at all because she would either wander off or hurt herself, she never slept for more than 30 minutes at a time during the night, she became incontinent and incapable of doing anything for herself. Finally my husband and I realised that we could no longer provide her with the care that she needed and she went to live in a special care home where the team did a splendid job caring for her in the last few months of her life. There she lived a zombified existence unaware of who she was, what she was or where she was. It was heartbreaking. She died in March 2005, the day after her 89th birthday.

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