Those who know me will know this is very out of character. Last October you'd more likely catch me with a pint and a cigarette than lacing up some trainers. The idea of running for a bus was fanciful - I was content with a stationary life, leaning into my 'dad-bod' ahead of meeting our daughter. But at 28 weeks we lost her. June Dempsey King was born on 14th October and buried on the 18th. The 4 days Jacinta & I spent in hospital were the most painful days of our lives, but also the only time we had with June. We read her books, gave her gifts and told her how much we loved her. We had matching teddies. One was burried with her and we kept the other, just so we could stay together in some way. The books, the teddies and the clothes she wore came in a memory box. A baby's memory box should be filled over a lifetime. Acumulating artefacts, experiences and funny stories - a way of bookmarking memories as they grow up. June's was different. Instead of walking out of hospital with our beautiful daughter, we walked out with a box crammed with as much of those 4 days as possible. And to this day, that's all we have left of her. June's memory box was provided by a charity called Féileacáin, who support bereaved parents at the worst time of their lives. Those 4 days we were in shock and completely heartbroken. We can barely remember a thing. Without June's memory box, we wouldn't have any physical memories of her. I still find the idea of running a marathon ridiculous. But I'm doing it to raise money for Féileacáin so other families get lasting memories with their babies and counselling through some really dark days. Training to get to the Dublin Marathon start line has been awful, but it's nothing compared to losing a baby. Your donation will help bereaved parents as they stand at their own start line, also not sure how on earth they're going to get through this. So, thank you. -- It's all for you, June. All my love, Dad -x-