MY CHALLENGE
MY JOURNEY
From struggling to run 50 metres to becoming a World Marathon Majors 7-Star Finisher — proof that it is never too late to start, and no journey has to begin perfectly.
Ann Pritchard
RUNNER, MARATHONER, 7-STAR FINISHER, PROOF THAT EVERYTHING IS POSSIBLE
MY STORY
I was never the sporty one.
As a child, I was usually somewhere on the edge of the team. I just about made the netball team, helped make up the numbers in hockey, and spent most of rounders flailing around hoping for the best.
I was active enough, but I was never someone you would have described as naturally athletic.
Then life happened.
Teenage years came and went. I enjoyed myself properly, dabbled with rafting, waved a racket around on a squash court — badly — and then came the grown-up years.
Babies. Work. Full-time teaching. Family life.
Like so many people, I slowly started to forget about myself because everyone and everything else came first. My weight went up, then down, then up again. Baby number three arrived, life became even busier, and before I knew it, I was 14 stone, unfit, eating badly and working far too hard.
Then came the wake-up call.
BIGGEST CHALLENGE
STARTING FROM THE VERY BEGINNING
The hardest part was not chasing marathon medals or running around the world.
The hardest part was starting when I felt unfit, uncomfortable and unsure of myself.
In July 2015, a group of staff from school entered The Wheelie Big Cycle as a team. I made that my first challenge. I bought a bike, threw myself into training and, honestly, hated it at first.
But slowly, things changed.
A hill I had to walk up three times was finally conquered on the fourth attempt. Times got quicker. The pain reduced. The enjoyment increased.
On the day, I was incredibly nervous, but finishing those 36 miles gave me one of the best feelings ever.
That challenge opened the door.
I kept cycling for fun, but then autumn came, the weather turned colder, and I needed something else.
So I tried Couch to 5K.
I hid in the shadows at first, huffing, puffing, grunting and groaning. On day one, I nearly threw up. My legs were jelly. Day two was not much better. By day three, the nausea was slightly less.
But session by session, my confidence grew.
Eventually, I found myself running up Kings Acre Road, in public, and I stopped caring what people thought.
Dare I say it…
I started to enjoy running.
Spring 2015. A normal day at school. An alarm went off and I had to get to another part of the school quickly. I say “run” very loosely, because it was less than 50 metres and I could not breathe.
I was puffing, panting and completely shocked by how hard it felt.
Thankfully, there was no emergency.
Except there was.
Me.
That moment forced me to take a long, honest look at myself. I knew something had to change.
I knew I had to change.
THE FIRST BIG GOAL
HEREFORD HALF MARATHON
Never one to set small targets, I decided I wanted to run a half marathon before I turned 50.
I had no clue what I was doing, but I chose the Hereford Half Marathon in May 2016 and started building up the distance. I listened to people around me, asked for advice and slowly grew in confidence.
When race day came, I was actually excited.
I will never forget the buzz of crossing that finish line in under two hours.
I had done it.
And that was it.
I had caught the bug properly.
From there, the challenges kept coming. Cardiff Half, London Landmarks Half, The Great North Run, my first duathlon, my first triathlon, Blenheim Triathlon — and of course, the running kit, trainer and gadget collections grew at a dangerous rate too.
Then I decided to go one step further.
My first marathon.
THE CHALLENGES I AM MOST PROUD OF
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WORLD MARATHON MAJORS 7-STAR FINISHER
My first marathon was in May 2019, and I really did not know what I was doing.
I googled training plans, experimented with fuelling and mostly made it up as I went along. It was the hardest thing I had ever done.
I also learned some very important lessons.
Never wear brand-new socks on race day.
Never underestimate fuelling.
And yes, hitting the wall is very real.
I found that out at mile 21.
I finished just over four hours, celebrated with my girls, and told myself it was supposed to be one and done.
Of course, it was not.
Like millions of others, I had been entering the London Marathon ballot every year. Eventually, the “congratulations, you’re in” email arrived.
London 2022 mattered deeply because I was running in memory of my lovely friend Mel. It was emotional, powerful and unforgettable. I finished just over four hours again, and that pesky sub-4 was starting to annoy me.
Then I discovered Good for Age times.
The bonus of being, as I like to say, an old dear.
London 2023 came next, and this time I went in more experienced, more relaxed and more motivated. I felt strong, ran well and finally achieved my first sub-4 marathon.
I thought I had peaked.
Job done.
Then I discovered the World Marathon Majors.
That changed everything.
Chicago followed. My first overseas race. New country, new worries, new logistics — and some truly questionable portaloos. But it was also a beautiful city and a brilliant race.
Then came Boston. The iconic yellow school buses, the history, the heat, the crowds, and turning onto Hereford Street near the finish. Boston was special.
Then Sydney arrived through a World Marathon Majors invitation as one of the fastest qualifiers in my age category. Halfway across the world, a huge adventure, and this time something had changed.
I had met Darren and SPC.
My training became more focused, structured and effective. I learned the importance of strength work, fuelling, pacing, intensity and training smarter. Sydney was incredible — running across the Harbour Bridge will stay with me forever.
And because I felt calm, strong and prepared, I ran a six-minute PB.
3:48.
That result meant everything.
Berlin came next. And Berlin was a stinker. Hot, badly organised, difficult water stations and a race that tested every bit of my mental and emotional resilience.
Then New York.
What a blast.
My favourite race ever. One huge party from Staten Island through Brooklyn, Queens, Manhattan, the Bronx and into Central Park. The crowds were insane. Screaming, cheering, singing — they carried me around the course and helped me to another sub-4.
And then, finally, Tokyo.
The last star.
I had tried ballots. I had tried the One Global Challenge. Nothing. Patience has never been my strongest quality, so eventually I went through Sports Tours International.
It was expensive, but it was worth every penny.
Tokyo was beautiful, clean, friendly and unforgettable. Even the toilets were incredible — proper flushing toilets, spotless, toilet paper, volunteers opening the doors and barely any queues. Honestly, how can a girl get so excited about a toilet?
The race itself was pure joy. I loved the switchbacks, watching the elite athletes float past, and knowing that time did not matter.
The medal was all I wanted.
When I crossed the finish line, I cried like a baby.
I had done it.
Tokyo 2026.
World Marathon Majors 7-Star Finisher.
WHY I KEEP GOING
If someone had told me six years ago that I would one day hold that medal, I would have laughed and told them not to be ridiculous.
I started from the very beginning.
From not being able to run 50 metres without needing an oxygen tent, to running marathons around the world.
It has not been easy. Training is tough to fit around work, family and life in general. There have been good days, bad days, mistakes, blisters, walls, heat, falls, nerves and plenty of lessons learned the hard way.
But I kept going.
Along the way, I have made friends, met inspirational people, learned to train smarter and discovered what consistency can really do.
SPC has become a massive part of that journey. Being part of a community where some people are just starting out, while others are chasing huge goals, is genuinely inspiring.
It is a privilege to be surrounded by people who make you believe that more is possible.
WHAT COMES NEXT?
THE NEXT CHAPTER
The 7-star journey may be complete, but I am definitely not finished.
London 2026 brought another lesson after a fall at mile 20, but even that added to the experience and resilience bank.
Next up is New York again in November, where I get to return for the 50th anniversary.
After that?
Who knows.
That is the exciting part.
The journey keeps changing, the challenges keep appearing, and I am still curious to see where running can take me next.
THE LESSON I HAVE LEARNT
Everyone has a journey.
The important thing is not to be afraid of starting it.
It may take you down paths you never expected. It may throw in detours, doubts, setbacks and challenges. But it will also give you moments, people and experiences that you will look back on with pride.
I started with less than 50 metres.
I ended up chasing marathons around the world.
Everything is possible.
You just have to believe in yourself — and be brave enough to begin.