NEW YORK (2010)

And that was it. I can't even picture the finish line in my mind, but I know I made it. My first marathon is done. Running for Turner — I dare to call it a success — and I should be ecstatic with joy. But emotion squeezes my throat shut and I swallow my tears. Later. First: breathe.

New York, November 2010. The city that never sleeps welcomed us with all its energy. The marathon atmosphere in New York is unlike anything else: hundreds of thousands of spectators line 42 kilometres of road, from Staten Island through Brooklyn, Queens, the Bronx, and finally Manhattan. Every neighbourhood has its own character, its own music, its own way of cheering.

Why a marathon? Why New York? The answer is simple: for Noelle. My daughter, diagnosed with Turner syndrome. A chromosomal condition that affects only girls and women — and that deserves more attention than it gets. Running for Turner was born from that thought: run, and use every step to create awareness.

The training was long and intense. Early mornings, tired legs, moments of doubt. But every time I wanted to quit I thought of Noelle. Of her resilience. Of the daily injections she endures without complaint. If she can do that, then I can put on my shoes and run.

The marathon itself is a blur — in the most beautiful sense. I remember the Verrazano Bridge at the start, the roar of the crowd in Brooklyn, the quiet of the Bronx, and then Manhattan — the final push. The last miles are pure willpower. And then: the finish line.

This was the beginning. New York 2010 was the first step in a journey that would take me to Rome, Tokyo, London, Curaçao, Chicago, and Boston. Six marathons. Six continents. One mission. Running for Turner.

"Everything is possible, if you let it happen."