Jobless, depressed and labelled a ‘dirty Jew’: how running and talking saved me

Ever since I started running a few years ago, the London Marathon became a massive bucket list goal of mine. On 26 April, it finally becomes a reality, which just so happens to coincide perfectly with my parents’ 28th wedding anniversary and the day after the anniversary of my grandfather’s death in 2024.

Securing a ballot spot felt like a real stroke of luck, which also meant that I could choose which charity I wanted to support, and honestly, it wasn’t a very hard decision at all. I am running for Campaign Against Living Miserably (CALM) following the absolute rollercoaster of the last few years, the real struggles that I went through in 2025, and the heavy toll the events of 7 October took on me as a young Jewish professional.

Last year was a massive test for me mentally. In January, I lost my job. That was followed by two other jobs that didn’t work out for various reasons, and I spiralled. I started to genuinely believe that I was the problem, and my mental health took a massive hit. Luckily, I had amazing friends and a loving family who refused to let me slip through the cracks. They picked me up and kept me from getting to that dark ledge where so many men sadly find themselves, and eventually helped me find the amazing job that I now have.

But my personal struggles weren’t the only thing dragging me down. About a month after 7 October , I got into an argument with an older man standing right in my own driveway as my mum was preparing to leave for work. He saw the mezuzah on our door and started screaming at the both of us, calling me a “dirty Jew”, whilst my mum was sitting in the car, trying to protect herself from whatever violence he was planning.

We called the police, and they eventually found the man on a bus carrying a knife, so who knows what could have happened that morning, and it didn’t end there. I came home from work that evening to find bacon covering the back of both my parents’ cars; we still don’t know if the two events were connected but can only assume the worst.

Between the job losses and the rise in antisemitism, my mental health completely tanked. I took off my grandfather’s Chai necklace when travelling on the Underground. just to avoid any potential trouble. I’ll be wearing that same Chai  loud and proud on the day of the marathon to keep his memory and his love and pride for being Jewish with me whilst I run.

That is where running comes in. It got me out of my own head, away from the news, and gave me a break from everything I was feeling. I still struggle sometimes, but I have an outlet to ease the stress, people to talk to, as well as being part of different amateur theatre companies, where I perform on stage twice a year in various musical productions. This has also led to me setting up Showsteppers Run Club, a running club for the Hertfordshire Am Dram community, bringing people together off stage with a shared love for running and musical theatre.

So why am I running for CALM? Too many men still suffer in silence, and far too many don’t get the chance to turn things around like I did. The stats are terrifying: every week in the UK, 125 people take their own lives, and 75% of them are men. Suicide is the biggest killer of men under 50, yet men around the world still struggle to talk about it. CALM is there for people when it matters most, through their helpline and their work to break the stigma around mental health. For way too long, men have been told to stay strong, keep quiet, man up and carry on. But that silence is costing lives.

Speaking up isn’t a weakness, it takes real guts and if you are struggling, I urge you to talk to someone. There are a lot of people out there ready to listen.

The London Marathon won’t be my only finish line this year. I’ve committed to completing a different organised running event every single month of 2026. From local 10Ks in the freezing rain to the ultimate 26.2-mile challenge, I’m pushing my limits to further the conversation around mental health. This journey will even take me across the Atlantic, culminating in a Half Marathon in Florida this December, a final push to end the year on a high and prove that even when it feels like an uphill battle, we keep moving forward.

I can’t wait to get to that starting line. Every donation helps CALM save lives, and I am so grateful to everyone who has joined me on this journey. Let’s keep talking, one mile at a time.

You can donate here.