We’ve been delighted that family and friends have been so enthusiastic about #Sixty4Judy. Donations to charity are nearing the £1,000 mark already and all the positive comments and support have been a great boost to us all.

There’s also been some great ideas to remember Judith’s 60 years. One such kicks off on Saturday 16th March as Mick Saxton and Rebecca Allen embark on the first leg of their walking challenge #SixtyMiles4Judy. They’ll be tackling 15 miles of the beautiful Sheffield Round Walk, setting off from Endcliffe Park’s central duck pond (by the path between Rustlings and Riverdale Roads) at 9.30am. A quick call in at Forge Dam Cafe around 10am (Judith would approve) will be followed by passing the Norfolk Arms just after 11am and crossing Ecclesall Road South at Whirlowbrook Hall about 11:45 (hopefully!). Depending on progress and weather they’ll have a packed lunch in Ecclesall Woods or over Abbeydale Road South in Lady Spring Wood (behind Dore Station) between 12:30 and 1pm ish. It’s Chancet Wood by 13:45; Graves Park by 2pm+ and over to Hemsworth Road around 2.30pm. After Gleadless Valley it’ll be Meersbrook Park at about 3.30pm, then across Chesterfield Road to the Broadfield pub area and up towards Brincliffe Edge and Chelsea Park; ending with a drop down to Hunters’ Bar, Endcliffe Park and the finishing line for sometime after 5:30pm. At least one pub stop has been promised!

Family and friends will be joining Mick and Rebecca for at least some of the walk and if anyone else wishes to do so they’d be very welcome.

There’ll be further walks to complete the 60 miles later in the year and we’ll post more details soon. If you’d like to make a donation in support of their walk you can do so on the Donate page of this blog.

Many of us seem to spend our lives surrounded by ‘stuff’. I’m as guilty of this as anyone and am particularly aware of it at the moment as I come to terms with Judith’s death. Neither of us were especially materialistic, preferring to spend money on experiences rather than objects. Nevertheless, over a lifetime, we accumulated lots of objects, books, pictures, mementos. I look around to see the pottery we bought together on a sunny day in Ubeda, the husk of a cactus I picked up walking in Joshua Tree, photograph albums of holidays and family get-togethers carefully compiled by Judith, some decorated jars that once held votive candles in some distant Catholic church. These are powerful vessels, which hold many of our memories and I’m quite attached to them. I might go as far as saying that in some of them Judith’s essence lives on. Of course, there’s lots of other stuff, which just needs to be sorted and passed on. I can’t bring myself to do it just yet, but I know the time must come.

One of the many challenges people face when they lose someone, especially a husband, wife or partner, is how to live in the home amidst all the possessions left behind. I’ve found this incredibly difficult at times. You’re surrounded by the things that they loved or enjoyed and wonder how they could leave them. And leave you alone with them. You look around and literally everything is a reminder of what you’ve lost. I came across Judith’s carefully compiled recipes last week, some in her own handwriting and others annotated with notes (she never followed a recipe to the letter and always added her own adjustments or innovations). It was a very bitter-sweet moment. There was such love in that collection, and memories of remarkable meals we’d enjoyed, but that now belong firmly in the past. I could taste each one.

I write this not as an indulgence, but in the knowledge that sooner or later we all face these challenges. There are no quick and easy answers. Throwing things out would seem careless, unloving and disrespectful. And it wouldn’t alter my feelings. Yet, dwelling too long on things can leave you stuck in the past and unready to grasp the future. In my experience there’s frequently a conflict at the heart of bereavement and grief; a dilemma between past and future, and a search for resolution that can leave one suffering and struggling to survive in a present you didn’t contemplate…at least not yet.

I’m slowly learning to accept my grief, to carry it with me, but to do things that help lighten the load.

One of those things is running. On Sunday I ran the Sheffield Together 10k organised by Cavendish Cancer Care. Cavendish helped us, particularly during the time when Judith was undergoing daily treatment at Weston Park. I was able to wheel her down the hill occasionally to have a massage treatment and a coffee, and this provided some respite for us amidst what at times felt like carnage. It felt like a safe place. I was very proud therefore to race in their vest and it was a hugely enjoyable run through the trees and trails of Ecclesall Woods, despite the muddy hills and slopes and hollows. We’re so fortunate to have these places in Sheffield. My time of 53:08 was decent, given the challenge and should set me up nicely for the Lisbon Half Marathon.

After the finish, I took a photo and must have dropped my hat in the mud. I’ve worn it throughout my Winter runs and inevitably have grown rather attached to it. I was gutted to lose it, knowing that replacements are hard to come by. It felt like another minor loss. A few days later I was delighted to hear that Cavenish had found it and were keeping it for me. I know it’s only a hat, but it says something about who I now am. I can accept that as a weakness and smile that occasionally good things happen too.

If you can spare some money to donate to our cause please visit the Donate page or go directly here https://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/SimonHughes64

Our keen runner and supporter in Abu Dhabi, Sarah Jepson, ran a 10k today in the ABCB Zayed Sports City event for #Sixty4Judy. This race was named ‘The Year of Tolerance’ run, perhaps appropriately given that, unlike the January version, which was gloriously sunny, this one took place in a real desert dust storm.

Undaunted, Sarah lined up with a good crowd to battle the conditions and, like a few others, was delighted with her time. Unfortunately, unkown to the runners, the event organizers had adjusted the route at the last minute to accommodate another major event being held in the area – the Special Olympics – so the distance covered was actually 9k. Only a runner will understand the cruelty of losing a PB in such circumstances! “Anyway” says Sarah “it was still a great event and we were all ‘tolerant’ of the mishap about the distance considering it is the Year of Tolerance here in the UAE!” Husband, Dan, and young Thomas were there at the end to cheer Sarah again.

“I’m happy to be part of the Sixty4Judy challenge. It seems to be going very well and is inspiring so many people – and it’s still only early March!” says Sarah, who also told us that her Dad is running a full marathon for the cause later this month in Manchester.

We are all really touched to have such fantastic supporters. Thanks Sarah.

While Simon was slogging himself up and down the hills of the Harewood House estate, I was enjoying a nice flat 10k in the sunshine of Hyde Park in London. The Hyde Park 10k was the third and final in the Royal Parks Winter 10k Series – and turned out to be a very pleasant and PB-friendly race. It was an early start, getting the 7:45 tube from Ruislip Manor, North London, where we were staying for a few nights with brother-in-law Abbas, Shafiya, Aidan and Evie but after changes at Finchley Road and Green Park, I arrived at the Hyde Park bandstand in plenty of time to pick up my number, get changed and have a decent warm up for once.

When the race started, apart from the 500 or so runners, Hyde Park was quiet – a picture of peace and tranquillity. By the second of the two laps though, the roller-bladers, buggy pushers, and families were out in force, although the biggest obstacle was a group of five or six angry geese waddling across the path from the Serpentine. After a fast start (the first 5k would have been a park run PB at the time), my pace got gradually slower until I approached the last kilometre when I felt an unexpected burst of energy. I managed to
pick up the pace again, overtaking the guy I’d been trailing all the way round and finish strongly with a time of 52:16, which I was very pleased with.

Given the many happy trips my Mum had there with Simon, London felt like an important place to do a race as part #sixty4judy so I was delighted to get this done and to follow it up with a touristy day in the capital with Samana and the kids.

The vast grounds of Harewood House, between Leeds and Harrogate, were the location for last Sunday’s British heart Foundation Half Marathon. The grand house itself was closed, but cast a formidable presence over the scene as more than a thousand runners gathered in the breeze and the cold for the Half, whilst others set off later for the 10k. This was the opening of Half Marathon season for me and I was anticipating a tough morning from reports of the course by those that had done it before.

At the gun, we set off on a fairly gentle circuit away from the house and I’d taken a conservative position towards the rear. However, I soon picked off the pacer at 2h:15m and was feeling fairly comfortable as we got into a rhythmn. It wasn’t too long before the course announced its true character and we embarked up and down a series of forbidding hills. One long drag was particularly draining before we began to encounter the muddy, uneven tracks through woods and open fields. I was glad to tick off the passing kilometres in the knowledge that this would be great training for the road Half Marathons to come. If I could tackle this course, then there need be no fear for the others.

The second half was hard and a long stretch across the open grass and into a strong headwind really took its toll. Some runners slowed to a walk, but I pushed through, even if my pace was nothing to shout about. I looked about the beautiful landcsape and thought of Judith… I’m learning about my grief and myself and the world I’m slowly moving through. There is no going back. There is no moving on. I must keep moving forward with. This landscape is built on everything that has gone before…just as my new life will be.

With the house back in view, we faced a final sapping detour and an uphill finish. This course gives nothing away. I finished in 2h:03m:19s and was happy with that. Faster times could wait for another day.

A very proud father, Alistair, witnessed my grandson James race in the SFSS Primary School Cross Country at an extremely cold and windy Concord Park, Sheffield, last Saturday. James has been keen to run #sixty4judy again after his last outing with his sister and cousins at Elsecar and, as a member of his Nether Green school team, now has a regular opportunity. Gutsy as ever, James came home in a very credible 65th place, his best yet and is improving all the time. Well done, Jim, your Grandma Judy would be thrilled.

Life often throws up a challenge to your motivation and I was feeling it yesterday. One of the effects of grief, at least in my experience, is what it does to your energy and motivation. I really have to push myself to get anything done. I think this is a natural reaction to trauma and loss, and hope that it will pass in time.

Yesterday was a case in point. It was cold and wet. I had an evening appointment on the banks of the Trent with the final race in the Nottingham Winter Series and I was tired and sore from running the day before. I knew I’d be there – I’m not one to back down from a challenge – but it felt tougher than it should. The weather improved a little by the time I set off and pulling on a Weston Park Hospital vest gave me a kick up the backside. Judith never complained about me taking her there for treatment and the thought of her spurred me on.

There was a crowd of around 80 runners waiting at the start and as usual the people from Nice Work got us off promptly. We charged up the Victoria Embankment on the first section and I knew I’d set off pretty fast. I never learn. By the time we headed on the straight, uphill drag to the top I was breathing heavy and telling myself to keep going. I was so busy focusing on that task that I took nothing in around me. I got to the top and then gave it everything, which wasn’t a great deal, but only one runner passed me and I got back in 23:40. The St John’s staff cast a wary eye as I staggered past.

It was then that I was rewarded by the sight of two familiar and very welcome faces. Unannounced, our friends Lazar and Helen had decided to spring a surprise and run in Judith’s memory. How I’d failed to spot them during the run is a worrying commentary on my waning powers of observation. It was Helen’s first race and, aside from the cold coming off the river, she seemed to take it impressively in her stride. What a joy to see them. We retired to the pub for a drink and catch up, and I reflected on the way home how sometimes, just when you least expect it, someone appears and lifts you up.

I love London, though I wouldn’t want to live there. For many years Judith would organise regular visits for us so we could walk the streets – she disliked the Underground – and explore the history and culture of a city that seems to have a story to tell round every corner. We’d walk the South Bank down through Rotherhithe and Bermondsey, exploring the streets where my great great grandfather made ropes for the sailing ships and call in for a drink at The Angel Inn, where Turner painted his masterpiece ‘The Fighting Temeraire’. It was like stepping back in time. We’d explore the Dickensian pubs and visit Sir John Soane’s House near Lincoln’s Inn Fields to wonder at the mind that could pull together such an amazing collection of artifacts. We loved  the British Museum and particularly their free gallery talks…Judith did love a freebie or bargain. So many happy memories…

It is always going to be strange to visit London without her by my side. Two years ago we had booked to visit and I was going to run my first ever race, the London Winter Run for Cancer Research UK. I’d raised some sponsorship and was running in memory of my Auntie Hilda, who had been very dear to me. I never got to run, as two days before the run Judith received her terminal diagnosis. We were in shock and in no state to do anything.

Two long years later I’m back. I’m doing the Winter Run, this time in Judith’s memory. There’s a palpable sense of disbelief about this for me. I’m not exactly going through the motions, but I’m certainly lost in space. It’s unreal. I’m in a strange place, confused and disoriented. Yet, I do know how to run. You put one foot in front of the other, repeat, and keep going. This is what I do for now.

I got down early to Trafalgar Square for the start, aware that it could be chaos amidst 20,000 runners. It was freezing cold, but there was comfort among so many people and a real air of excitement. We lined up next to the National Gallery and crowded through the start line before heading up to Holbourn. I was reassured to see other people running in memory of loved ones. There was a lot of weaving in and out and around, as I tried to find my pace. Fortunately, by the time we hit Chancery Lane there was plenty of space and I was able to take in the sites as we passed the Criminal Courts, over the Holbourn Viaduct, by St Paul’s, the Stock Exchange, Guildhall and then made the turn at the Bank of England.

As ever, it was a boost to get over halfway and I was going pretty well. The crowds watching were now bigger than any I’d experienced. This was fun. I was hoping to get across the line in around 48 minutes, but the busy first kilometre had cost me and, despite a strong run along The Strand, and something resembling a sprint finish down Whitehall, I got home in 49:20. I  was pleased with that and celebrated with a hug from a very welcoming polar bear. A selfie outside the Women’s War Memorial reminded me of my Mum’s service in the war. My efforts seem trivial in comparison, but it made me realise that in one event I got to honour the two women who’ve had the biggest influence on me and I’m grateful for that.

I had been joined in the race by Ali Hussein, Samana’s cousin, and received a message to say he’d enjoyed it. The chances of finding him in this crowd weren’t great, but I was very touched that he’d also run in Judith’s memory.

London had worked its magic again and I had some new memories to take home.

We’ve not had much of a Winter, so it was something of a shock to the system to be stood at the start line waiting for the off at the Longshaw Trust 10k early on Sunday morning. The sky was grey and I was almost blue. It was officially one degree above freezing, but the biting wind coming in from an icy Higgor Tor meant the real temperature was well below. My fellow runners were hopping from foot-to-foot, whilst I looked for shelter in the crowd. A tortuous and muddy trail lay ahead, with two killer hills spaced a little apart, seemingly to ensure maximum drag. I felt a little uncomfortable and was questionning the sanity of my doing an energetic parkrun the day before.

Finding the motivation and focus to get out there for a long run in the cold isn’t always easy, but fortunately I have a great goal to aim for. I looked down at my running vest and the words ‘Cavendish Cancer Care’. They reminded me of Judith and the warm welcome we received from the staff and volunteers at Cavendish when we ventured there during her treatment at Weston Park Hospital. Judith received a series of complementary and massage therapies at Cavendish and I know she appreciated having a regular treatment, where all was calm and peaceful amidst the ongoing trauma. I am extremely grateful for the respite it gave her. It also helped me to know that she was safe for an hour or so, whilst I could sit and breathe. I appreciated being able to sit down with a counsellor occasionally to share my feelings without the risk of upsetting friends and family. I can’t begin to tell you how difficult it is to hold yourself together in those circumstances and Cavendish gave me somewhere I could just let go.

Now, I let go on the roads and fields. Despite the cold, it’s a joy to be able to race round the Peak District. We stream down gravel paths before hitting the moors and the mud. Narrow, winding tracks criss-crossed with tree roots provide a more technical challenge, but it’s like dancing through the woods. The long hills are a real test of lung power, but they soon come to an end and then it’s back into an easy rhythm before hitting the second loop. It’s tough, and I’m hanging on up the hills, but manage a final burst of something that feels deceptively like speed to overtake a young woman of about half my age as we make the finish. Is that sad? It helps me feel alive. I’m home dead on an hour and 93rd out of 237 runners. Not bad, given the tiredness in my legs.

I have a coffee afterwards in the cafe surrounded by happy faces of all ages. I’m very lucky that I’m fit and healthy. I can get outside and run and feel part of something. It restores me when I’m down. I’m immensely proud to pull on the running vests of Cavendish and our other charities at these races. Cavendish receive a small amount of NHS funding and have to find at least £350,000 each year through other sources to keep going, providing support for around 1,500 families affected by cancer each year. If you feel like contributing to their work then visit our Donate page to give in Judith’s memory. Thanks again for your interest and support.