I’ve suffered from chronic anxiety and depression for as long as I can remember. But like so many, I’ve pushed through life, keeping my head just above water, not giving my mental health the attention it truly deserves.  

That is until my life changed forever in March 2020. Thanks to COVID my business tanked, and all of a sudden my go-to excuse of ‘being too busy’ to look after myself vanished. I now had all the time in the world, coupled with a burning desire to find purpose.  

An idea I floated a few years back to break a world record by running 222 consecutive half marathons (about 5000km), all the way from Hobart to Cairns, was now on the cards.

I was stoked when my partner was completely on board with the idea. A few brainstorm sessions later, it was decided we’d make the most of it by also raising money to go towards two charities close to my heart – one being R U OK?. 

We bought a shiny new caravan (to sleep in of course, not for cheating) and built a website to raise awareness. All that was left was getting in shape so we could start our journey. 

The training begun. 

It was a huge deal. So I took training very seriously. 

I trained for about a year in Bondi and clocked up 3000km over that time. Just running around the streets. Living near the water makes for some nice routes. 

Don’t get me wrong, it was pretty brutal, but I knew I had no chance of succeeding if I didn’t train.  

It was all systems go on 2^nd February 2022. 

We picked the van up from Newcastle and drove it to Hobart. 

When I started the run, I didn’t have a very large network. Living with depression, I’d become quite isolated and stepped away from people. My social supports were low. In fact, I had originally planned to do it alone, carrying a sleeping swag on my back. I guess that’s why I was so chuffed when Courtney said she was keen. 

There were five people at the start line – myself, Courtney, her parents and Bruce from R U OK? That was it. But that was enough for me.  

For the first hundred days I was deep in my own head. It was tough but necessary. It gave me so much time to reflect on my life to-date.  

By the second half I had gotten fitter, the run was easier and my head was so much clearer. 

Having someone check in on me throughout was a blessing. 

Courtney was there through it all. Turns out she didn’t enjoy it as much as she thought, but she did it for me. And I take my hat off to her because she dealt with a very cranky, tired and sore man most days.  

On the plus side she could see that I was becoming the man that I always wanted to be. I was strong, confident and optimistic. Whereas for my entire life leading up to that point, I’d never felt that. 

The most valuable moments were conversations in communities.  

Naturally doing something as outlandish as the 222 sparks interest and conversation. Driving the van with signage and wearing an R U OK? shirt and the heart on my sleeve was very disarming. As I went through different communities I’d meet people and explain what it all meant. Often what followed were deeper conversations. With people who had lost family or friends to suicide. Or people who had contemplated themselves. We were able to connect and share experiences which created a sense of support that was incredibly powerful. 

I remember on day six of the run, we were staying in a caravan park for three nights in Tassie. We were next to a bloke and his wife. He didn’t say much at all until we were packing the van and on our way out. He pulled me aside after noticing the sign on my van and said “mate, I just wanted to say before you leave I've been thinking about killing myself for twenty years, and I've never mentioned this to anyone because I was always fearful that I'd be judged for it.”

The little sign on my van broke that barrier down for him and we had a yarn. I got his number and we've been in contact ever since.  

That’s a good example of a whole bunch of those conversations I had along the way.

My body definitely took a hit, but it didn’t stop me. 

The last 140 days I ran with stress fractures in my pelvis and torn hip joints. I spent a decent amount of time on crutches. All my toenails had come off. Blisters on my feet were infected. It was horrible. 

I've never felt physical pain like it.  

But it’s nothing compared to the pain of someone who's thinking about ending their life. Every time somebody felt brave enough to have a conversation with me, that they’ve never had before, it reminded me why I was there. And made it easy to push through.  

You wouldn’t believe it though. I had buggered the math up and to reach Cairns it was actually 228 half marathons, so when I reached 222, I had to push through another six marathons. Another 140km. Piece of cake right?  

All good things must come to an end. 

I finished the run on 17^th September 2022 with seven people at the end, running through a crepe banner that Courtney had made.

It was no Nedd Brockmann event, but the victory for me felt equivalent.