Women can find themselves forced to choose between running a marathon and planning for a family, navigating confusing and conflicting advice. One passionate runner shares her story and investigates further
Words: Sophie Haydock
I t’s midnight. Big Ben strikes its iconic 12 dongs and a dazzle of fireworks explode over the river Thames.
I have the best view in all of London to welcome in the new year, 2023. It’s just, I’m in a hospital bed. And earlier that day, I was rushed in to have emergency surgery to remove an ectopic pregnancy – where the embryo implants outside the womb – following my third round of IVF. Unfortunately, I’m one of nearly 12,000 women in the UK who have an ectopic pregnancy diagnosed each year. There are many tragedies related to infertility and pregnancy loss. Those of us who experience miscarriages and ectopic pregnancies are at increased risk of post-traumatic stress, anxiety and depression. But rarely at the top of anyone’s list of injustices in the realm of not getting pregnant is the impact that it has on one’s running life.
However, as a woman in my 30s at that stage, who enjoyed running for mental and physical health, I’d lost count of the number of deferrals I’d had to make, the number of races I just hadn’t entered, the miles I’d decided not to run, in my bid to become pregnant.
First foot forward
The desire to put on a pair of trainers and pound out a few miles first grabbed me around the age of 30. I took to the streets, timidly, in an oversized T-shirt and cotton leggings, with the wonderfully incremental NHS Couch to 5K app for company. I remember my joy at being able to run along the streets of Hackney in east London for 18 whole minutes without stopping. The buzz was addictive, and I found myself looking forward to the next milestone I could set myself.
After a year, in 2014, I entered my first 10K around the Tower of London, and graduated (in better running gear) to a half marathon in the Royal Parks in 2015. I couldn’t believe I was smashing these ambitious goals. I felt stronger, fitter, and mentally better able to take on greater challenges at work.
Over the course of the following five years, I went on to run three marathons – my first in New York in November 2016, aged 33, when I unexpectedly won a place in the ballot; then I got a charity place in Berlin in 2018; and London in 2019 – all of which were fun and great challenges. By that point, I’d set my sights on running all six in the Abbott World Major Marathon series. The rem
