My Cardiff Half Marathon — Fuck You, Cancer ❤️

In August 2024, after months of scans and investigations, I was diagnosed with a rare form of spindle cell sarcoma. My tumour has a particularly rare MEIS1::NCOA2 gene fusion — a genetic change that has only been identified in a very small number of sarcomas and is still not well understood.

It was actually found incidentally on an MRI.

In November 2024, I had major surgery, including a hysterectomy and removal of the tumour from my pelvic region. After surgery, I slowly started getting my life back — returning to work, exercising and trying to feel like myself again.

Then, just a few months later, in March 2025, we discovered that the cancer had returned and was growing quite quickly in the same area.

I was advised to have another operation, but this time it would be much more invasive and potentially life-changing. Having only just started to feel like myself again, I wasn't ready to go through another huge surgery so soon.

So I asked to be referred for a second opinion in London.

The second opinion was that I would likely still need surgery, but there was another option we could try first — hormone therapy, with the aim of delaying surgery.

There was no guarantee it would work. In fact, there was very little evidence or research to tell us whether it would work for my particular cancer.

So I took a chance.

I started hormone therapy in August 2025, knowing there was no guarantee it would work and that, eventually, I may still need the surgery. But I wasn't ready to give up the life I'd only just managed to get back.

Thankfully, since starting treatment, the tumour has stabilised. I've had a few complications along the way which have landed me in hospital, but for now, things are stable.

And because my cancer is so rare, my treatment is also contributing to research. There is still so much we don't know about sarcoma, and treatment options can be limited. Hopefully, what is learned from cases like mine can help guide treatment for someone else in the future.

Despite all of this, I've tried really hard to live my life.

Cancer has changed a lot of things for me, but I don't want it to define my life.

I've always loved running. For almost a year, my illness took that away from me. So this year, I'm taking it back.

On 4th October, I'm going to run the Cardiff Half Marathon — my first ever half marathon.

For me, running isn't just about completing a half marathon. It's a reminder of how far I've come from a time when so much of my normal life — even the things I took for granted — was taken away from me.

And honestly, running 13.1 miles while living with cancer feels like one giant:

FUCK YOU, CANCER!

But it's also about being proud of what my body has been through and what it is still capable of.

It's a reminder that, despite everything, I can still do things that feel like me.

And it's about being able to say:

I did the Cardiff Half Marathon with cancer.

I don't know what the future holds, and I may still need surgery at some point. But right now, I'm well enough to run. So I'm going to run.

13.1 miles. My first half marathon. While living with cancer.

And if that's not a massive FUCK YOU, CANCER, I don't know what is. ❤️

I'm raising money for Saecona UK, a charity that is incredibly close to my heart because I am living with sarcoma.

Sarcoma is rare. Research is limited. And there is still so much more to learn.

If you'd like to support me, whether that's by donating, sharing my fundraising page, or simply cheering me on, I'd be incredibly grateful. Every donation, no matter how big or small, will help support the work that is so desperately needed.