When my mum crossed the finish line of the London marathon this year with a smile on her face, swollen hands and aching bones, I witnessed something extraordinary. At 75, living with myeloma in remission, she had realised a lifelong dream.
In 2023, we did the London marathon together, and at mile 17, mum got severe cramps, stopping her from going any further. I carried on, but it was hard and lonely, as I worried if she was okay while at the same time wanting to finish safely.
For many, that would have been the end of the story. But for mum, it was the beginning.
She made a decision – to come back stronger, and finish.
This year, we completed the London marathon as a mother-anddaughter team in just more than 10 hours. We walked most of it, mixed in some gentle jogs using the “Jeffing” method, and adapted everything around my mum’s health. Because of her myeloma, running long distances is difficult, and walking is better for her bones, especially her neck and knees.
For us, speed and personal best were not the goal, finishing was. What made the biggest difference this year was preparation.
After our first experience, we knew we needed support and guidance.
Andy and Mo at Up & Running Teddington took us under their wing. They carefully went through our marathon gear, fuelling and race strategy, helping us understand what we needed to train safely and effectively. Their free running sessions in Teddington became much more than training runs; they became a community, and we loved going, it’s such a welcoming place.
While others ran, mum often walked, but someone always stayed behind with her. That kindness mattered more than people realise.
The pair with supporters who helped them reach the finish line Minreet Kaur
Having a clear training plan – knowing what distances to cover and when to build strength – gave us confidence. By race day, we knew what we needed to do. We learned what salt sticks and electrolytes were, to prevent cramps and migraines.
It was a hot marathon day on April 26. We had packed too much and carried more than we should have. As the hours went on, the crowds became fewer. Later, it got cold, and we realised we had not brought enough layers. Mum kept going, though.
She is a woman of faith and does meditation. Throughout the day, it felt as though she carried me rather than the other way around. She smiled constantly and never doubted she would cross that finish line. When the pain kicked in, I had muscle mechanics balm, which helped to soothe the aches.
As her daughter and carer, I carried a different burden: anxiety.
Would she be okay? Would the cramps come back? Would she get injured? Would her body cope? I worried constantly. Yet, mum surprised all of us.
Halfway through the marathon, we met the tailwalkers. At this point we felt like giving up, as this is when we moved to the pavement. Then we saw our friends Neha and Dave; they brought mum’s favourite energy drink and a battery pack.
At mile 20, members of Asian Women Run met us and walked alongside us. Their support reminded us that community matters, especially when you are one of the last people still out on the course. With a bag of Maltesers from Hannah, it was the energy boost we needed. Sophia was carrying a sign cheering us on.
Then came mile 25. The exhaustion hit hard. Mum’s hands had swollen; myeloma can leave lasting pain in the bones, and her neck and knees were aching. Still, she did not give up. The support of the tail walkers, Rob and Claire, became invaluable. They encouraged my mum the whole way, holding her hand, reminding her she did not have long to go, helping us believe the finish line was truly possible. Rob even gave my mum a T-shirt when we got cold and lent me his jacket and held her rucksack the entire way.
After more than 10 hours on her feet, my mum did something none of us expected – she sprinted the finish, smiling. She had overcome illness, disappointment, pain and fear and crossed the line to earn the medal that had once slipped away. What makes her achievement even more remarkable is that she may be one of the oldest British Indian women to complete the London marathon, while living with myeloma in remission.
But for mum, this was never about records. She wanted to show women in the British Asian community they can do difficult things too.
Too often, women – especially older south Asian women – are told exercise is not for them, or that illness means their life becomes smaller. My mum wants people to know the opposite. You can still have dreams. You can still challenge yourself. You can still be strong.
You may need to go slower. You may need support. But you should never stop believing in what is possible.
As a mother-and-daughter duo, we have always exercised together. Yet, truthfully, there were moments during the marathon when I wanted to give up. Mum kept me going.
She reminded me that resilience is not loud. Sometimes resilience is simply putting one foot in front of the other, hour after hour, even when everything hurts.
