Zara's 70 Mile Ultramarathon

I originally started running in the lockdowns. It was something different to do. Over the years it has turned into something I now use to test myself – and taking on a 70 mile Ultra Marathon feels like the ultimate version of that.

The Wall is 70 miles in a single push, from Carlisle to Gateshead, following the line of Hadrian’s Wall. It’s a full day of running, walking, climbing… and, if I’m honest, probably a bit of crawling on all fours by the end. I’ve broken it down into something mentally manageable: a marathon, a tough middle section of hills and climbing, and then… another marathon. The reality is that last marathon will almost certainly feel five times as hard as the first.

I’m doing this ridiculous challenge with my husband, Richard, and I’ll be glad of the company. We’ve agreed the strategy is to keep talking and distracting each other, particularly in the dark moments. I’m also packing my headphones, just in case.

What I’m really dreading isn’t the start or those early miles – it’s the point where the sun starts to go down and there’s still a long way left to run. When your legs are already exhausted, everything hurts, and you know you’re nowhere near finished. That’s the point where it stops being physical and becomes something else entirely.

Most of the time, it's aching legs, heavy miles, and that constant voice in your head telling you to slow down, cut it short, or just stop altogether. The longer the distance, the louder that voice gets. Training for this has meant long, tiring runs, early starts, 6am gym sessions, pushing right to the limit and learning how to stay in the discomfort zone.

Running has taught me that you can be 100% uncomfortable and still manage to keep going and be ok – and that applies to many areas of life.

And it gives you perspective. The pain in running is temporary. You choose it, you train for it, and eventually it passes. That’s not true for many people, including many of the patients we care for, or for the pressures our teams face every day. In hospitals, the physical and emotional strain can be constant and the stakes are far higher.

This resilience is what I see every day at DBTH – colleagues showing up, pushing through, doing the right thing for patients even when it’s tough, often without the option to stop. My motivation as we progress towards Gateshead will therefore be simple: don’t stop. Keep moving forward as if stopping is not an option.

So this is 70 miles of putting that to the test. Not just getting from start to finish, but doing it with purpose – raising money for the DBTH Charity to support patients, families and colleagues, helping fund things that turn discomfort into comfort and make a difference to real lives.

It’s a long way. It will hurt. I’m not stopping.