Hi, my name is Molly Anderson, and in April 2026 I’ll be taking on one of the biggest challenges of my life: running the London Marathon. I’ll be standing at the start line of the London Marathon – not just a runner (calling myself a runner is pushing it…), but as someone living with Cystic Fibrosis. Every mile I run is a mile that once felt impossible. But I’m doing this because I now can – and because so many others living with CF still face daily battles that most people never see.

Cystic Fibrosis is a genetic condition that mainly affects the lungs and digestive system. It’s a bit like having a chest full of treacle, lungs that throw tantrums, and a medical routine that could rival a Nasa launch sequence… CF isn’t ‘cute’. It’s daily treatments, dozens of pills, unexpected flare-ups, sometimes hospital stays, and a constant battle to stay one step ahead of something that never really takes a day off.

Growing up with CF meant living with a question mark over my future. I constantly wondered; ‘When will I die’, ‘Will I ever have a normal life’, ‘Will I be able to have my own family one day’ – and having these questions from a very young age took a massive toll on me mentally. Knowing I had a life expectancy hanging over me made it very difficult to have a positive outlook on life. However, CF has taught me strength, resilience and the value of never giving up.

But here’s the thing: I’m still here, I’m breathing. And now? I’m running.

There have been amazing breakthroughs in CF treatment over the past few years – medications (Kaftrio, ‘The Miracle Drug’) that have genuinely changed lives. Changed my life. I currently do not have a limited life expectancy, which for the first time in my life I feel ‘free’. However, this has not been the same outcome for everyone who lives with CF. And Kaftrio is not a cure. So, I’m lacing up my trainers and running every mile for those still waiting, still fighting, still hoping.

This isn’t just a race for me. It is a big, beautiful, sweaty middle finger to a disease that tries to slow us down.

I will be turning 26 just two days before the marathon, and each mile I run will be a tribute to every year I’ve fought and survived Cystic Fibrosis. 26 miles for 26 resilient years – a celebration of strength, survival and every breath that got me here.

Every donation – big or small – means the world to me and my family. You’re not just supporting a marathon; you’re helping me run towards a future where CF no longer holds people back.

Thank you for being a part of this. I’ll see you at the finish line, probably in tears, snotty, and possibly crawling – but I’ll get there!

Molly x