Lee Goes the Distance for EGFR+ UK!

Where did the inspiration come from to get involved in fundraising for EGFR+? Well, rewind the clock to a cold evening on 20th November 2022. I was sat in my local pub with my wife, waiting for our food order, when one of my closest friends, Matthew, sent me a text to let me know that his wife, Natasha (also a very close friend), who had been under medical investigation for an ongoing illness, was being investigated for what the professionals believed to be lung cancer. Just the presence of those six letters together, in relation to someone close to you, hits like a sledgehammer. I still remember the deliberation over whether to call back or send a text, and if so, what to say. For someone I always perceived to be very careful with nutrition, how her family ate, and physically very fit—unable to stand still (or quiet!) apart from during sleep—to then try and rationalise how lung cancer could be the diagnosis was simply impossible.

As someone on the periphery of their lives, it’s difficult to comprehend what those next few hours, days, and weeks would be like or feel like for Matthew and Natasha. All you can do is suddenly remind yourself of how fortunate you and your close loved ones are.

Fast forward a few months with a confirmed diagnosis and some targeted precision medicine to try and stabilise the condition, and what followed really blew me away!

I always knew Natasha (pre-diagnosis) to have boundless energy (imagine A.A. Milne’s ‘Tigger’ after a case of Red Bulls, and you may be getting close), but the condition, treatment, and medication were definitely taking their toll physically—and that’s before you consider the emotional fatigue. Reading this, you would therefore be excused for expecting, as I did, a more tempered and placid Natasha... but no!

First, there was a 90s disco fundraiser at Matthew and Natasha’s local pub’s function room. Organised and run by them, it was by no means half-hearted. The 90s was my era music-wise (Matthew and Natasha’s too), and what a great night we had in a hugely packed room filled with so much friendship and love. It almost felt wrong to have enjoyed the night so much, given why we were doing this.

Within a couple of months, there was then an amazingly supported charity garden party (admittedly, I didn’t know what to expect—I do not recall ever being invited to one before!). Again, so much fun, laughter, and love.

Natasha was no longer hosting charity events; she was building a community. It wasn’t just about raising money (and let’s be honest, we’ve all, as a society, become a little desensitised with so many different charities), but now a journey of education and awareness of the condition (and that rogue gene) for friends, families, colleagues, friends of friends—and it was an awareness that was growing.

Natasha didn’t stop there—of course not. Would Tigger stop bouncing?! Almost overnight (or so it felt), Natasha was on local radio, then local TV, then national radio, interviewed for national magazines... and I just thought, “Wow, hasn’t she got stage 4 cancer??” Consciously, it was almost embarrassing and selfish that Natasha, who was going through all of these treatments and emotional challenges, was making such an impact both locally and more widely, while I was going about my life ‘business as usual’. Call it guilt or call it a sense of knowing this just doesn’t feel right—I had to do something.

Now, I am a man of very few talents. And despite the fact that I wasn’t built for running, cycling, or much more than your typical hobbit, the one thing I had been half-decent at (albeit some 10 years prior) was setting silly physical tasks like marathons and Ironman triathlons, and completing them.

So, I broke out the running shoes, dusted down my bike, found my swim shorts, and started plotting. I’ve always had a partner in crime for these physical challenges—my other close friend Richard—so we came up with a list of events to undertake over the course of 2024 to raise some money and started training. Admittedly, the training started a little late (January 2024), and that was after the realisation of crossing over into the New Year and thinking, “Bugger, we’ve got a marathon to complete in April!” Training was hard work but not so difficult when considering my position compared to Natasha’s, and indeed all of the thousands of unfortunate people diagnosed with this awful and cruel condition. What followed was a marathon in April in Manchester, a Half Ironman triathlon in May, a sprint triathlon in August, a half marathon in September, and another full marathon in October.

I fronted a JustGiving page for Richard and myself, which generated some great interest, with common questions like, “So, what exactly is EGFR+?” This question from fellow employees quickly grew into a team of 10 entering the Sheffield 10k in September, all fully branded with EGFR+ UK logos. It was great to see a small group all working together to raise some much-needed awareness. In total, from Richard’s and my endeavours, we raised a modest £1,500. More than that, though, we helped Natasha widen the community and spread the word. At events, we wore branded EGFR+ UK running shirts through Manchester (twice), York, Sheffield, Worksop, and Nottingham. In training, this extended to Bristol, Doncaster, Rotherham, Leeds, Newquay, Liverpool, Barnsley, and Hull in the UK.

The sense of achievement, especially at 50 years old, was fantastic in completing these events with a long-standing best friend. But more than anything else, the moment Natasha (aka Tigger) bounded onto the Manchester Marathon course uninvited and ran the best part of 1km with us—although she was almost out of breath at times but knowing how much pain I was feeling at mile 20—was priceless, and a memory I will always cherish. That’s how you define inspirational.