When illustrator Jack raised £750 by running the London Marathon, he wasn’t just chasing a personal goal - he was running for his younger brother Sam. Sam’s epilepsy had shaped their family’s life in profound ways and after living away from home for many years, Jack wanted a chance to show support for Sam, his family, and for Young Epilepsy.
Running with purpose
As a keen runner, Jack had already taken part in his first marathon because he “loved the distance”. When he decided to run his second race, the London Marathon, it was to show support for his brother, Sam.
After years of living away from home, he’d been, he says, overwhelmed by a desire to help.
I remember one night thinking ‘what can I do?' I’m a good runner, and I thought maybe that’s something I could do, even if I’m far away.
Shared childhood
Jack and Sam grew up together in York, sharing a bedroom until Jack was 15. Their childhood was shaped by everyday moments - wrestling on the trampoline, watching films with their Dad.
Sam was around 11 when he had his first seizure. Jack remembers it clearly: a Sunday roast, Sam leaving the table, and then thrashing on the living room floor.
I shouted for Dad. That was kind of how it began.
The seizures came and went in childhood, but returned in the last few years with unpredictable frequency.
They’re not every day but they can be every two weeks, or every six, or every seventeen. It’s frustrating. There’s no rhythm to it.
He admits with quiet honesty that he felt an emotional toll of being a sibling on the sidelines.
It could be isolating. You don’t want to make it about you: he’s the one suffering. But I do feel sadness that I couldn’t be closer.
Finding ways to stay connected
Jack now lives in Sheffield, where he works as a freelance illustrator and part-time in a coffee shop. Seeing his parents can be complicated, he says. His Mum often needs to stay close to Sam in case of a seizure, and his Dad works long hours. But on one occasion, he did manage to have Sam to stay with him.
It went really well. We hadn’t had much time together like that before. It felt like we made some ground.
He often sends Sam things he thinks he might enjoy - music, articles, or links to people who share similar experiences.
I met a musician with epilepsy who performs at night. I sent her music to Sam, hoping he might like it.
Sam now works early shifts to avoid evenings - when seizures are most likely - and lives at home with his parents. He’s found joy in films, Lego, and the routines that bring comfort.
He takes pride in the things he’s found and that’s great.
Finding meaning in the miles
Running the 26 miles of the London Marathon was a tough physical challenge.
It was a hot, hot day! I went through every last water shower on the course to cool down and keep myself going. At the water stations, I would take a little sip and I put the rest on my back. It got me through a crazy day.
Near the end, when my knees were shot and I was stumbling, I thought about Sam. I couldn’t stop.
Though his family couldn’t attend the race, Jack felt their support.
I think it made them realise I do care. It meant a lot to Sam too, even if he’s not the type to say it outright.
Jack had never raised money for charity before, and chose Young Epilepsy with a goal of raising £500. He ended up with £750.
It’s not a lot. But it’s still something. We’re from a working-class family. You learn to do a lot with a little!
From Young Epilepsy there was, he says, warmth and support for him.
Everyone was so friendly on email. Even after the race, they kept in touch, sending cards and little things. It felt like they really cared.
Looking ahead
Despite the challenges, Jack is proud of what he’s done.
I don’t know exactly what the money will do but it can’t not help.
He hopes Sam might one day connect with others who understand his experience. And he’s interested in learning more about support groups and networks that could help Sam feel less isolated.
I always want to send him information I find. It’s about giving him options - letting him choose.
