I was never particularly fond of running. Or, more accurately, I always loved the idea of running - freedom, fitness, stress release - but the reality was such a let down - shin splints, frosty mornings, smelly clothes, bloody hard work. Who on Earth would run a marathon voluntarily if it meant more pain, cold, sweat?

In 2014 a charity close to my heart, the Leukaemia Foundation, announced that it had secured a handful of charity places in the 2015 New York Marathon. They only asked that in exchange for one of these places, you raised $10,000 for the Foundation. I worried about my ability to run that far and especially to raise that kind of money. I asked my parents, my workmates, even girls in my rowing squad as we sat in our singles at the start of the course: Did they think I could do it? The answers were overwhelmingly negative - it was too far, it was too much.

So I said no. And regretted it immediately.

I swore that if another opportunity came up, I would say yes, no matter my doubts.

Mid 2015 I received a notice that the Leukaemia Foundation would have charity places in the 2016 New York Marathon. I was the first person in Australia to sign up.

Life since then has involved a lot of early mornings, a lot of kilometres, a lot of time at the physio, a fairly unhealthy obsession with shoes, socks and dry-wicking clothing, a library card filled with books about running and motivation, and a heck of a lot of Freddo Frogs - 16,000 sold and counting.

Why the Leukaemia Foundation? The Foundation not only does research into blood cancers in the hope of a cure, but provides practical and emotional support to people facing the challenge of blood cancer. Across Australia, 60,000 people are going through this right now. Today, 34 Australians will get the news they have blood cancer.

I was lucky enough to have in my life an incredible aunt, Elizabeth. She was a pretty phenomenal person, who unfortunately lost her 12 year battle with Acute Lymphocyctic Leukaemia. She inspired me to volunteer with the Leukaemia Foundation and is the impetus for my challenge.

So, Aunty Liz: I love you and I miss you. This is for you.