The Homage
The route isn't a random accumulation of miles. It starts at the Peterston Tea Estate in Wales—the physical origin of the leaf in the UK—and finishes at the Cutty Sark in London, the transformative clipper ship that changed the global tea landscape forever.
Harvey Taylor and the Lancaster
Track the training.
Every run on the road to the start line — stats refresh from my Strava feed.
My grandfather, Harvey Taylor, served in World War II as a rear gunner in a Lancaster bomber. Think about the stark reality of that role for a second. You are locked inside a claustrophobic perspex bubble at the extreme tail end of a heavy bomber. The temperature drops to minus forty degrees, freezing the oxygen masks and equipment. You are suspended in absolute darkness over hostile territory, completely isolated from the rest of your crew, relying on nothing but your sight and reflexes to keep your aircraft from being destroyed.
The sheer turmoil and existential fear his generation faced is difficult to truly comprehend. The agony of being away from loved ones, the deafening roar of the engines, the constant, gnawing uncertainty of never knowing if you would make it back to the runway—it is a level of mandatory suffering that dwarfs anything we voluntarily choose to put ourselves through today.
When the fatigue hits me during a brutal training block, or when the sheer scale of the 190-mile route feels overwhelming and my body begs me to stop, I think of him. No one is shooting at me. I have aid stations. I get to go home to my wife and children. A 190-mile run? In comparison to what he endured in that turret, there is absolutely no comparison. It is just a long stroll.
The Cruelty of Erasure
Harvey survived the skies over Europe, but later in life, he faced an entirely different enemy. Alzheimer's stole him from us. Surviving the brutality of war only to have your mind, your history, and your identity systematically dismantled by a disease is a specific kind of cruelty. Watching a man of such immense bravery lose his memories is an agonising experience for any family to endure.
I selected Alzheimer’s Research UK as my primary charity because I want to do anything in my power to fund the fight for a cure. I am choosing to build memories through the immense physical struggle of this ultra-marathon, while Alzheimer’s silently deletes them from millions of others. By raising awareness and critical funding, I hope we can eventually prevent other families from having to watch their loved ones fade away.
Giving Back to the Trade
Then there is the other half of this equation: the global tea trade. My career as a buyer and blender has given me far more than just a salary. It has fundamentally shaped my worldview. It has granted me a global perspective, lifelong friendships forged over cupping tables scattered across continents, and the profound privilege of travelling to remote, incredibly beautiful corners of the earth.
I have seen firsthand how this industry can improve livelihoods in far-out regions, providing vital structure, care, and economic opportunity to communities that rely on the leaf. The trade has supported me immensely, providing a professional and personal home for over a decade. Running for the UK Tea Trade Benevolent Society (UKTTBS) is my way of giving back to the people who form the essential safety net for this incredible community.
This route—from the tea estate in Wales to the historic Cutty Sark—is my physical nod to the trade, and the immense distance is a quiet, firm mark of respect to my grandfather and his generation. They faced tumultuous, terrifying times so that we could have the incredible luxury of choosing our own challenges.
