I discovered running relatively late in life. I was 38 years old with two tiny children and a full-time job on BBC News. Exercise was not my thing. I’d tried jogging around the local park in my early thirties, but I couldn’t go more than a mile without feeling that my lungs were exploding. I gave up. But one day in 2006, I received an email that changed my life. The race organiser and former Olympic distance runner Sir Brendan Foster was inviting me to take part in his Advertisement - Continue Reading Below. Running 13.1 miles seemed a ridiculous idea for someone who could barely jog to the park without stopping. But I was heading back on screen soon and wanted to interval sessions to help you bag that PB.

So I signed up. I found a beginner’s training plan and stuck to it doggedly. To my surprise, I started to enjoy it. I liked the structure and the sense of achievement. I also began to feel stronger. After three months of training, I crossed the finish line in 2:06 to the roar of a crowd and my first medal.

Winter Arc: The viral TikTok self-help trend marathon. At the age of 42, I was sure I was getting too old to be putting my body through 26.2 miles. The training was tough. A diary I kept is filled with pages about sore muscles, aching feet and significant doses of fear and self-doubt.

On the day itself, in April 2011, I almost didn’t make it. I overheated and blacked out for 20 minutes just two miles from the finish. But after being revived by the St John Ambulance volunteers – first with oxygen, then with lots of sugary tea – I trotted over the London Marathon finish line for the first time, in 6:22.

Twelve years later, I’m faster and fitter than I’ve ever been. With almost 20 marathons under my belt and ultras across deserts and mountains ticked off, I wonder why I didn’t take to running in my youth. It’s not just the physical strength I’ve gained, it’s the mental fortitude, too. Running has given me a level of confidence I lacked in my twenties and thirties. I’ve been broadcasting to millions of people for more than 20 years. But I never meant to end up on television, preferring to work as a journalist behind the scenes. When the spotlight found me, it took me a long time to feel comfortable in its glare.

I think it’s no coincidence I only got into my stride in my mid-forties. I’d ticked a few marathons off by then and, despite my advancing age, I was surprised to find I was getting faster. It felt incredibly empowering. Running gave me a new identity.

The marathon-training mentality started to slip into other parts of my life, too. Big live broadcasts became less daunting. Long-distance running had taught me that preparation was key. If I did the work, I knew I’d get the results. In the hours before going on air, whether it’s an election night or a royal event, I go quiet, zone in, drink an espresso and eat carb-laden snacks, just as I do as I head to a marathon start line. Election nights are fuelled with Haribos; if they can keep me going on a 50-mile ultra, they can get me through a marathon election broadcast.

Most of all, running has taught me I’m capable of more than I thought. At 55, my body is stronger than I ever imagined. Rather than winding down in middle age, I’m ramping up, lifting heavy weights and chasing PBs. Quite simply, running makes me happy.