September 2025

By Rebecca Timmis 

We wanted to do L’Arche proud, to thank our generous donors and to honour the treasure of our friendship and running story. I think we did that.

How we ran the London Marathon for L’Arche 

A year since we got our places, nine months since official training (almost 600 miles) began, 130 days since we completed the challenge (in 4 hours 25 minutes) along with 56,638 others. But running the London Marathon isn’t best measured in numbers. It’s measured in determination, kindness and the sense of belonging that participation brings, in the endless encouragement shared on the course and at the roadside, in the commitment of all the charity runners raising money to create a more human society. And it’s measured in friendship. Given all this, who better to run for than L’Arche? 

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Friendship, recovery and training

My friendship with Olivia began as the country entered the first Covid lockdown. Me on the sofa with Long Covid, Olivia using her exercise quota to run 60km a week — it’s no overstatement that her friendship turned my life around when I was at a very low ebb. Her patience, tenacity and commitment to getting me well render me speechless to this day. Having persuaded me to buy running shoes and “run” for 30 seconds before recovery walking for ten minutes, I owe the healthy life I now live to her.

When Olivia said her decision to run a marathon was partly inspired by me, I couldn’t believe it, but it gave some equality to the journey. On the day, we both had to help each other along. With our personal story resonating so strongly with the values of L’Arche, we felt privileged to run on their behalf and had already surpassed our fundraising target. After months of training and sharing our progress to inspire donations, we were all set to run for this small but mighty charity. Now all we had to do was “the thing.”

The race day

Having been allocated separate start points, my marathon involved me, at the three-mile marker, going back up the course against the tide of runners and under a subway, to the disbelief of spectators. The meeting point we’d agreed on didn’t exist, and we were running it together or not at all. No surprise our quickest kilometre was the one right after we found each other. 

I had to dig deeper than I ever have in my life. The heat, the exertion, the perseverance, the intensity of the event and what it meant.

It’s taken time to think back and remember it all: the early morning meet, the “no turning back now” bag drop, the self-talk, the starting horn, the cooling fire hoses, the small hands offering chocolate and high fives, the screams of family in Bermondsey, the iconic Tower Bridge, the wharf towers giving shade, the perpetual motion, the promise of a chilled glass of something, the joined hands for the finish, the weighty medal, the lie down in the daisies, the celebratory pub dinner.

At 25.5 miles our families told us how happy we looked, how effortless it seemed. It was not effortless, but it was joyful — our joyful rebellion — and the reality of it will continue to sink in for the rest of my life.

Run for L'Arche