Cancer took everything from me – and made me discover who I truly am
When I was diagnosed with breast cancer, the disease took everything I thought defined me.
It stole my job, my car keys, my right breast, my hair, my taste buds, my independence and my comfort. But, in so doing, it reconnected me with the person I am at my core, not the one who had been so busy rushing through life that they’d forgotten to live. I became the person who wanted to not count the days, but make them count.
There was a time when I wondered if I’d ever see the sunrise again, but this year, as I sat on a plastic chair in the desert watching the sunrise as a camel wandered in my eyeline, I understood the true meaning of contentment.
What took me to the desert? I'd decided to celebrate 10 years clear from cancer by trekking 100km across the sandy environment alongside an extraordinary team, including a Sikh priest, a ghost-hunting archaeologist and an African princess. It was pretty spectacular – but not in ways I could have ever predicted.
For someone who’s spent the last decade searching for their physical edges in meaningful and challenging ways – doing everything from running marathons in 10-person costumes to pedaling on a spin bike for 29 hours and five seconds – this challenge was in memory of a friend, as well as for the fitness and fundraising challenge, and I came away from the trek having discovered something rather beautiful.
More from Jackie
How my breast cancer diagnosis took me on the path to unexpected happiness
10 years on from my cancer diagnosis, kindness is what keeps me going
Why living with one nipple has made me more body confident
Finding yourself
When you send a bunch of strangers into the middle of nowhere and strip them of their technology, their social handles, their responsibilities, their roles, their influences and their day-to-day concerns, you give them all a chance to find out who they really are and truly connect that person with those around them.
What mattered wasn’t what we did for a living but who we turned up as every single day. For me, that meant adopting the role of helper and leader.
Being confronted with your true self isn’t something you have to travel to extreme and isolated climates to experience, though.
A decade of fundraising
The end of 2024 marks the end of a decade of fundraising, a chance to turn the page and start a new post-cancer chapter.
As I think back, I don’t think about the money raised, the medals won, the world records (although getting in the Guinness World Record book this year was pretty special) or the massive endurance challenges that have dominated my calendar and my thoughts.
I think about the fact that every time I pushed myself to the limit, I found out I was capable of more than I ever thought possible. And, even better than that, by recruiting other people (who are all sitting proudly in my challenge alumni hoping desperately I don’t approach them with another record-smashing idea), they too were able to find an inner strength that showed them just how resilient and confident they could be if they just put one foot in front of the other and kept going.
You certainly find out how strong you are when being strong is your only choice. My first-ever 10k run was a week before my last chemo treatment. I ran a marathon on a stress-fractured foot, dressed as a bus driver and attached to nine other people in a giant London bus made of plumbing pipes and yoga mats.
I held a wee for one hour and 45 minutes (you try that while in a spin bike world record attempt). I have paddleboarded and pedalled 100 miles in a storm (not planned or to be recommended). I fell in the sea complete with my bike ahead of cycling unsupported across the UK (Coast to Coast) in under 48 hours. I hobbled my way across the Seven Sisters in a 32-mile ultramarathon race.
I have dug deeper than I could have ever imagined. And, I – along with all my fellow challengers – have made it to every single finish line, proving that you can do anything when you have the right people by your side.
Life lessons from a decade cancer-free
This isn’t the only life lesson I have carried forward with me from the last decade. I have learned that it is not what happens to you in life that matters, but how you choose to respond.
I have learnt that when we have a big enough 'why' we can take on any 'how'.
I have learnt that life is too short to leave a kind word unsaid and that success isn’t having a nice life, but a meaningful one.
I have learnt that you should say yes wherever possible and see where life takes you. And, if you want to achieve anything in life, write it down and make it happen. Now is the only moment we know that we have, so embrace it (and do so wearing your best underwear).
10 years clear
Getting to 10 years clear is not a milestone I take for granted because it’s one all too many never get to see. The friend who trekked the desert not long before being rediagnosed with breast cancer took a walk with me in the last months of her life and said: "Why me and not you?"
The guilt of being the one who gets to survive can be a heavy weight to bear. All I know is that when I’m moving, I’m living, for myself and others.
There was one thing more dazzling than the Sahara sunrise (or sunset for that matter). It was the starry sky. I remember sitting there in the early hours watching shooting stars and banking wishes.
As I looked up at the brightest of stars – each one a reminder of loved ones taken too soon – I made a promise. I vowed to keep looking up, keep living louder than ever, keep travelling with kindness and keep doing something every day that I’d be proud to put on my gravestone. All I hope is that as you look to the new year, you feel inspired to do the same.
Jackie and her teams have raised more than £160k for a number of charities, including NHS Charities Together, Breast Cancer Now and Willow over the last decade and in 2024 completed four massive endurance challenges. If you’d like to show your support, visit https://justgiving.com/team/100kourway
