Many of you reading this will be aware of Sally's loss, but maybe not all. So forgive the length of this, it’s completely devastating for me and hard to process, let alone write about. But i'll try.

The most amazing, beautiful, kind and thoughtful person you could meet. In short, perfect. But Sally lost her short (5 month) fight with cancer at the end of March.

Last November, I was lucky enough to get a place for the London Marathon, I was ecstatic – to be the pinnacle of my short running journey that had started a couple of years before.

The joy faded quickly, with Sal’s diagnosis coming shortly after. From this point on, through failed treatment cycles, has been a blur. We attacked each day as it came, all the way to her peaceful end. Now, looking forward also seems blurry, with one exception - 26.2 miles on 27th April.

Sally spent her last 2 weeks at the Isabel Hospice in Welwyn. I’d never set foot in a hospice, or thought about what they’re like and what they really do. It’s an incredible place - a kinder, warmer and more positive/uplifting team you won’t find anywhere. They'll describe to you with conviction the genuine privilege they feel to care for people at the end of their journey. They are all heroes to me.

Building a warm bond with Sally, really knowing her – to best look after her pain, and fears with dignity, grace and humour.

Fixing special moments (pamper nights, curry nights) and craft workshops to inspire and create memories that my girls will treasure forever. They continue to provide counselling for our girls and me. They are there for all of us. It’s impossible to convey how much I owe them but hope that gives you a small sense.

Back to Sally, who at best ‘reluctantly accepted’ my running. I get it, it took up time in our super busy lives. But in recent months Sally said that, if possible, she’d like me to still run.

That never seemed remotely possible to me, but i didn't give up or defer the place. Then last week, in some of her final words, she left me in no doubt. With her steely determination that i must do it, to raise money for Isabel. And, knowing sally, to look after myself too

So here we are, 3 weeks to go. No time to train, its going to hurt, but i don't care. All that matters to me is her memory – honouring it and raising money for Isabel. With just a fraction of Sally's incredible courage and bravery I'll be fine.

Isabel rely on donations for 70% of their funding. Yes 70% - crazy right, for the critical support they provide.

If you’ve read this far, please help Sally, Jessica, Ella, Kiera and me to raise money for them. To help others that will navigate such a cruel path in the future.

Thank you. Sam x