Run Dem Crew was formed in east London in 2007 by runner, writer and musician Charlie Dark.
Less than five years on, the running club he started has more than 100 members, with some now forming spin-off groups in other parts of the capital.
It can be hard to keep yourself motivated when you’re training on your own, but Across the Divide has provided me with a helpful guide to preparing for the Arctic Circle, and while I’m working hard with my fundraising I also need to be working equally hard on improving my fitness.
What better way to prepare than joining a running club?
A good friend of mine — the writer runner — has been running with Run Dem Crew for ages, and in turn inspired me to join up with them.
I turned up on Tuesday night at the 1948 Nike store in east London, where the Crew run out from. Of all nights I could have picked, it turned out this was their First Annual Zombie Run: taking to the streets of London painted up like the living dead.
100 runners took to the streets of the capital under the cover of darkness, and as a pack we set off through Shoreditch and towards Liverpool Street station.
The different speeds and abilities of the groups within Run Dem Crew quickly spaced us all out, but the route was the same: through the middle of Liverpool Street Station, out the other side, across London Bridge, down along the river to the Millennium Bridge, across to St Paul’s (passing by Occupy London) and back towards 1948.
Next March, the Great Arctic Fundraising Adventure will have me running in the snow alongside a pack of huskies — possibly having fallen off my sled, or pushing the sled uphill.
This night had me running past ionic London sights instead, places that I see every day but don’t pay attention to in my 9-6 working drudge.
My fitness isn’t nearly as bad as I might have thought — which is reassuring, but my flat feet and bow legs don’t make me a natural runner, so I was left with a painful back and painful knees, but the reassurance that I can do this.
Next year, when I’m sat beneath the Northern Lights, I’ll know that running with Run Dem Crew paid off.
Please do your part to support The Great Arctic Fundraising Adventure and make a donation here.
What’s new with the Flat-Footed Adventurer and my Great Arctic Fundraising Adventure? Actual Fundraising has taken up a lot of my time, pre-adventure recently.
In the last few months I have spent entire days collecting in National Rail stations Paddington and St Pancras. I have also spent large amounts of time collecting on a local retail park, outside a local Tesco store, and at a Poundland fun day near Elephant and Castle. Some volunteers I’ve met while out collecting have told me they don’t like street collections and find them depressing. I’m not clear in what way they find them depressing, but I enjoy them.
Sure, they’re often long days; my collections in national rail stations have had me on my feet for 12 hours (give or take some breaks), and I’ve heard complaints from volunteers that the collections recently aren’t nearly as profitable as they have been in the past.
I enjoy the human interaction. Most people just chuck a couple of quid the bucket as they hurry past, but some people stop to talk — they’ll stop and thank me for the work that Macmillan Cancer Support do. Or they’ll tell me how cancer has affected their own lives, as a patient or through knowing someone with cancer. Sometimes they are sad stories, sometimes they are stories with a happy ending — but these people remind me of why I am raising money for Macmillan Cancer Support with this adventure. Some people don’t just put some coins in the bucket, either — some people will reach into their wallets and put a banknote into the collection.
I also enjoy observing life, watching people going about their business.
I was recently at Droidcon — a conference dedicated to the Android operating system. While there I had the opportunity to talk to HTC, Sony Ericsson and Accenture about the Great Arctic Fundraising Adventure. HTC were enthusiastic to hear about it, and the other two were progressively less interested. Unfortunately, attempts to follow-up haven’t been very fruitful. I have also tried to make contact with RedBull in several different ways — but have had the same frustrating lack of response.
To date, my fundraising efforts online and offline have helped me to raise just over £2,000 — which is roughly a 30% of my way towards the total, and I haven’t yet been told how much my collection in St Pancras raised.
I need to have raised £4,800 by December 26 — so I still need all the support I can get. You can contribute towards the Great Arctic Fundraising Adventure here and show your own support for Macmillan Cancer Support.
Preparations for the Great Arctic Fundraising Adventure have got into full swing this week — and hardly a minute too soon.
Donations via the Just Giving page have reached £220 this week. It might seem like a slow start, but that’s 5 donations — including one from someone who is a little bit a personal hero of mine, Peter Lubbers. The man does it all — ultra-marathons, bungee-jumping, skydiving — and still finds the time to be an expert on HTML5.
Corporate requests for sponsorship have so far been met with polite declines. From a sports marketing perspective, I also approached several brandsto see if they would get behind “The Flat Footed Adventurer”, with much the same level of success. Adidas have told me that while Macmillan Cancer Support are one of the charities they are supporting this year, they can’t support me “due to resource & budget limitations”. Animal — without a doubt one of my own favourite brands — agreed that Macmillan Cancer Support are a great cause, and like so many others the friendly press office contact had seen first-hand their work, and said on a personal level he “supported” any charity fundraising for them. However, like so many others, Animal have to draw a line somewhere. In this case, I was told normally they offer goods to raffle off or to support in any event that ties in with their core of surf, board and bike sports. However, dog sledding doesn’t count as one of their core board sports — although it involves snow. As they say, there has to be a line somewhere.
Among the other responses I have had included a no from the office of Boris Johnson, the Mayor of London. As a publicly funded organisation and a strategic body for London, I am told the Greater London Authority is not in a position to assist individual causes, no matter how worthy they might be. As “sorry, no” responses go, while it may be entirely copy/pasted, there’s very little you can argue with in it.
I have not had any kind of response from the press offices of London’s various transport services, nor from my local MP.
In a more positive light, the organisers of the Hacker News London Meetup made an announcement to their members about my Arctic Fundraising Adventure ahead of this month’s meeting, and I was given a very kind donation by the organiser of the London Java Community.
Outside of fundraising, I was generously given a free personal training consultation by Matt Wolstenholme this week — Matt has a variety of fitness qualifications and bags of experience under hsi belt (as well as being a talented sports writer), so I considered myself very fortunate to get an exclusive consultation with him. Although I am sore today, and noticeably out of shape, I found I’m not nearly as disastrously unfit as I had thought I was — but this could just be as a result of Matt’s motivational style. If you’re in London and want a personal trainer, Matt comes highly recommended by me — and hopefuly, if finances allow, I will be able to see Matt on a regular basis for more personal training. With his help, I have no doubt that in no time I will be fit for chasing huskies and pushing sleds uphill.
So , where does this leave me? I consider this some of my first steps along the road — I have made a start on fundraising, but there is an awful lot more to go. I have also had one personal training session, the first of many more hours of fitness training. From here, we can only go up. There needs to be more donations, which will surely come as a result of more effort to find the donations — so there must be more emails written and more contacts made. I also need to start some traditional supermarket collections.
I should also get a proper press release written, since all contact with the Docklands newspaper was met with a resounding silence.
In the news his week was a report that Four in 10 Britons will get cancer. According to the Guardian, “Figures obtained by Macmillan Cancer Support show that 42% of Britons had cancer before they died – compared with around 35% a decade ago. The study, which analysed data from 2008, also revealed that 64% of cancer sufferers will eventually die from the disease.”
It reminds me of why I am doing this trip in the first place. You can donate to my Great Arctic Fundraising Adventure here. Adventure is out there!
I signed up. I paid my money, I filled out the form, and I signed up. The Great Arctic Fundraising Adventure starts here.
I saw the doctor last week, and it was probably one of the fastest check-ups ever. I explained I was travelling to the Arctic Circle next year, he raised an eyebrow. I told him I wanted a clean bill of health before signing up. He checked my notes, listened to my chest, confirmed that there wasn’t anything I was currently suffering with, and ordered a variety of blood tests — just to be thorough.
I asked, “Should I be concerned by the trip down the stairs I had a few years back? Before the Peru adventure?”
“Do you have any symptoms now?” He responded
“Then I’m sure it’s fine.”
And that’s it, it’s official — short of the blood tests showing up anything alarming (which, let’s face it, they won’t): I am healthy. I won’t say “fit and healthy” as there is a lot of fitness work to go between now and next March — along with a lot of fundraising.
The fundraising goal is £6,000 which seems insurmountable — but the way I see is if I can get 60 companies to each donate £100, then I’m set. The publicity and promotion machine must now get to work.
Speaking of publicity, a special thank you goes out today to David Gallagher, the Senior Partner / President of Ketchum Pleon PR who kindly retweeted a link to my JustGiving page. Thank you, David! Also worthy of heartfelt gratitude for a retweet is John Williams, author of the inspirational book Screw Work, Let’s Play — his 30 Day Screw Work, Let’s Play Programme has given me some much needed support and contacts.
As mentioned, I have already set up a JustGiving page, along with a Facebook page, and a LinkedIn group. Take up of memberships to the social media pages has been slow getting started — I expected donations to take a lot of work, but have been surprised by a lack of interest to join the Facebook page.
Donations, on the other hand, have started strong — I have received to date two donations of £50 each, which means I only have £5,900 left to raise. One of the organisers of the Hacker News London Meetup group has agreed to put out a message to the group about my fundraising adventure, for which I am very grateful –I was hoping this might be a way to find 60 companies each willing to make a £100 donation, but that might have been a little optimistic.
I am now wrestling with myself over whether I should ask more groups I am associated with through my work for their help, or whether I should keep a separation between the two.
The message remains the same however: all donations, of any size, are equally welcome — and if you are unable or unwilling to donate, there are other ways you can help. You can help by telling people about my adventure, and why I am doing it. You can help by finding out if there is anyone in your company I can ask for a donation from. You can help by suggesting big companies with PR budgets I could talk to. You can help by suggesting press contacts who would be interested in my adventure. Or you can help by just giving me messages of encouragement — it’s all welcome.
We left the flat-footed adventurer last time trying to find support from adventurer-turned-Gardener’s-World-presenter Ben Fogle, as well as financial help and press coverage from the Docklands newspaper. So, what is new?
My email to the editor of Docklands was met with an auto-reply: he was out of the office, please contact x in his absence. Fair enough, I redrafted the email and sent it to the new news contact. Two emails, two auto-replies. This contact had actually left the newspaper some weeks before — and was now on an adventure of his own, in Africa. You can follow his own adventures on the site It All Began in Africa. It’s very inspiring stuff — doing good work, and finding positive stories in such an often-misunderstood continent. This auto-reply gave me yet another contact — but I figured maybe the paper’s editor was just out of office for a day or two.
I called the newspaper the next day, using all of my own journalist training to sound expected, asking for the editor by name, and feigning surprise when I was he was out of the office. What I didn’t expect, when I asked if he would be back in the following day, was to be told he was on long-term sick leave. Often this is code for a nervous breakdown, but I wish the man well, whatever the circumstances. I got from the receptionist a name for the news editor who was effectively in charge these days, but didn’t take the offer of being put straight through — people rarely appreciate cold calls. The third email — to the news editor — ddn’t bounce back. It also got absolutely no response whatsoever. My offer to the Docklands newspaper for exclusive coverage of my dog sled adventure was as good as refused.
In a continuing theme, I have also not had a response from Ben Fogle. That’s hardly a surprise, however — I get more emails than I can handle at work, I can’t imagine how many emails someone like Ben Fogle must get. I doubt he ever even saw it.
But help has come from an unexpected place. My work.
I deliberately didn’t ask them for any donation for financial support before now — not because I didn’t think they would provide it, but because I didn’t think it was fair to put them in that position. However, when I was telling a colleague recently about the adventure and my struggle to get the money to sign up, he pointed out the obvious: I could earn it. It was obvious: in exchnage for £500, I will work one evening a week for the next 10 or so weeks — on top of the day job. Yes, it means that once a week I will be working 12 hour days or longer, but it’s worth it.
That was one road block stormed through: I’ll get the money in this month’s pay. I am now free to sign up for the adventure.
I made contact with Cancer Research UK, to register to fundraise for them, to tell them my plans — and to get their permission. This last part has thrown up road block number 2. I am welcome to fundraise for them, and they will give me all the support I need: except for the option of the “minimum sponsorship” for the trip. The charity does not have the facilities to pay Across the Divide for the trip, so if I want to take part and want to raise money for them, that’s all great — but it has to be self funded.
My early attempts at securing a corporate sponsor for this failed, and my more recent attempt to just get sponsorship for the deposit also floundered. If I didn’t have £500, I certainly don’t have the best part of £3,000. So, I have returned to the idea of fundraising for Macmillan Cancer Support. It’s not a case of favouring one charity over another, I was planning to fundraise for Cancer Research only because my cousin requested for my uncle John’s funeral that donations go to Cancer Research — his illness had been too rapid for him to receive any support at home from Macmillan. I like to think of cancer patients and their families getting the support that they need, and I think my uncle John would have felt the same way. Naturally, my family have no objections to any choice of charity.
Macmillan Cancer Support have in a way given me a third road block in the process of helping me overcome the second. They are absolutely fine with the “Minimum Sponsorship” option, and being invoiced by Across the Divide for the cost of the trip — except that they have a different cost to donation ratio than the organisers. What does this mean? It means that I will have a higher minimum sponsorship — instead of £4,500 it will be more like £6,000.
Next week is the beginning of July. The trip will be in March. I expect I will have to have raised the money by about January. That’s roughly £1,000 a month. Do we think I can do it? I have to think about it and talk to Macmillan’s fundraising team. I spoke to someone tonight who told me that his own experience of fundraising has shown him that recording your event and making it available afterwards can double your total raised — just in donations received after the event. It’s worth bearing in mind.
The next wave of companies being contacted for help/sipport/collateral will be footwear companies — who better to support an adventurer with flat feet like myself — and perhaps electronics companies who would like to give or lend me a small camera.
But first, I should sign up for the adventure.
Flat feet, no sense of direction — but a burning sense of adventure