In January 2025, my stepdad, Chris, received the devastating news that he had been diagnosed with motor neurone disease. MND is a rare and terminal condition that progressively damages the nerves that control all movement, speech, and breathing, causing the person suffering to become disabled and rapidly lose every bit of their independence. There is currently no cure.

The time of his diagnosis couldn’t have come at a worse time, 5 months after losing my dad, and amidst my mum and Chris about to move into their dream home. We were still processing our grief as a family, but I found comfort in knowing that we would still have Chris as a father figure in our life, a bitter sweet feeling that MND is quickly taking away.

He has always been stubborn in the best possible way. Since his diagnosis, he has fought fiercely to hold onto his independence. He insisted on walking even when his legs were failing him and pushed himself to eat on his own even if it took hours to finish a meal. He has done everything he can to keep living life on his terms.

It’s unimaginable to comprehend what it must feel like to be diagnosed with a terminal illness and be told you have a limited time left, but he has faced it with so much strength and stoicism. He hasn’t complained or given up, he’s got on with it in every way he can.

But MND doesn’t compromise. Today, he can no longer walk, eat or do anything independently. He’s had a feeding tube put in to allow him to get nutrients and has now been moved to a care home for his own safety after a rough fall left him alone for hours on the floor. Something as simple as a conversation is proving more and more difficult.

Watching someone you love lose their independence in this way is terrifying - you feel completely helpless, even finding the right words to comfort them feels impossible.

Experiencing this has opened my eyes in ways I never expected. It’s something a lot of people have not had the misfortune of understanding. It has forced me to witness the horrible reality faced by those living with disabilities/ terminal illnesses and the families who love them. It has also made me so deeply grateful for the smallest, most ordinary things we take for granted- being able to walk, speak, eat, laugh.

Because of this experience, I’ve decided to take on a challenge that will push me physically and mentally on behalf of Chris, participating in the Cardiff Half Marathon 2026 on October 4th. My goal is to raise £1,000 for the Motor Neurone Disease Association who do important work in research for MND and provide support to those suffering. Hopefully their work will mean that one day, no other family has to watch someone they love be taken piece by piece.

If you’re able to support by donating or sharing this campaign, it would be so greatly appreciated ❤️