The Indian Corona Crisis & my mid-life Crisis: Donate now

Next week I am turning 30 and for weeks I've seen the date coming at me, like a drizzling thick black cloud. It gives me the shivers.

30 has always felt like a landmark. I was going to be a millionaire by the time I was 30. I was going to be high profile. I was going to have done something impossibly impressive. If I am honest, I am still struggling to celebrate what I have done so far and accept that where I am at is "good enough". Corona hasn't helped.

In Delhi it's been very easy to hide from the reality that begins just on the other side of the gates, that there are millions of migrant workers here without food, or shelter. They are stuck in an unthinkable dilemma, to either hold out in the hope work will return, homeless and hungry on the streets, or to walk hundreds of kilometres back to their villages. I feel completely compelled to do something to help - and raising money is the most constructive way I can contribute.

I had an idea one morning that I would set myself a challenge, to turn this puddle of time into something more structured; to turn this feeling that I had failed against my own expectations into a sense of achievement and to try and do something positive for the situation in India.

30km on my 30th birthday. I've never ran this far, I hate running, but it has a catch to it and so it stuck. I feared 3,000 burpees would kill me.

I did not give myself nearly enough time to train for this. 5 weeks, from a completely standing start. I called a running coach who had pushed me (kicking and screaming) through a triathlon last year and asked for his help. The conversation went:

Nakul: "When did you last run?"

Me: "Last December when I did the triathlon".

Nakul: "Lottie, we are very short of time before early July, but I think we can just about do it".

Me: "Um, it's June".

Nakul: "Right". Audible gulp. "Let's get started then".

Until very recently I've been restricted to running 2km laps of my gated colony. Around and around and around and around. I got shouted at by the same Aunties who think I somehow exude Corona through my pores. I waved at the same guards every 12 mins as I come past. I had to run in a mask - and if I don't, I got shouted at by an elderly neighbour brandishing a stick. It's sweaty work.

I've been training quite quietly for a few weeks. I didn't want to talk about it publicly until I believed I could get to the end, and now I do. Although I know it's going to hurt.

I was going to do this in Delhi, at 4am, on the hottest day of the year. Now, an evacuation flight and a bit of panic has meant I can now do it at a sociable hour, down the Thames, here in London.

You can't buy me a drink, quite yet, but I do want you to contribute:

> There is an incredible group of volunteers in Delhi that a very close friend of mine is very involved with who are donating ration packs to families in dire need, with no work and no savings. To feed a family for a month (sacks of rice, lentils and some basic vegetables) costs 2500 INR, which is ￡26.85. My plan is to support 20x families and I am hoping you might pledge to contribute. If you would like to support this way, let me know here.

> To support in rural areas, I am also raising money for a women's collective in Assam who are in desperate need of funds, that I also have a personal connection to. You can donate here.