There’s an African proverb that says, ‘If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.’ Well, I’ve gone about as far as I can alone. The next 25 days of #RunningDry are all about collective action.

If you’ve been following me on Instagram / Facebook / Twitter, you’ll know that Marathon 62 was momentous. It ended with tears thanks to the multiple stress fractures in my right femur. I was told that if I continued running (or walking) on my leg, I would never run again. That if I didn’t take a break, I would break.

This week we’ve been running through Jordan and it has been… epic. A dry desert country with surprising fruit groves, a combination of heartbreaking and inspiring stories all intertwined. I am still so deeply and profoundly exhausted, but this week has reminded me why I’m doing this.

Last week I reached day 41 - which means marathon 41, which means I have officially broken my own record. 41 marathons in 41 days. I wouldn’t have thought this was possible last year, the day after I ran 40 marathons in 40 days. And yet: here I am.

It’s been a beautiful, exhausting, illuminating week in India - and now we’re off to Hong Kong and China. Still running a marathon a day, now over a third of the way through my 100 marathons in 100 days… Phew.

We’ve spent the last week in India and what an extraordinary week it’s been… From Delhi to Bawal, Achrol, Nayagaon-Kisangadh and Raila, through Chittorgarh, Banswara, Dahod and Halol, meeting so many people along the way and hearing their water stories first-hand.

Wow, what a week it’s been! France and Italy, some deep exhaustion and some equally deep appreciation for this wonderful journey we’re taking together.

Running along the River Thames and it’s marathon number 3. Today was very special because I was joined by Dr. Liz Goodwin of the WRI. She ran 12.3km with me to represent SDG 12.3 which is, of course, sustainable consumption and production patterns.

In the middle of the cappuccino colored sands of the Atacama Desert, with miles of dusty rock strewn ground stretching to the horizon, I sat beside the trail. I was exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally. I had given everything I had to my effort to run across 7 Deserts on 7 Continents in just 7 Weeks. It was a ridiculously ambitious goal for someone who was a self-confessed non-runner, and the reality of the whole thing was setting in with a vengeance.

People often express jealousy at the amount of travel I do. Between travelling to see potential and existing sponsors, talk to people and organisations about water, and give speeches, I’m often on and off planes. I’ve just arrived in New York City now, ready to begin my most epic challenge yet - in 5 days.

I was in the USA recently on a far-too-brief trip to do some publicity for one of my sponsors. That sounds so fancy now I’m writing it! Had you asked me even a year ago if I’d write a blog that says that, I’d just have laughed at you. But anyway – the daily disbelief of what I’m doing is the subject of other blogs.

I’m a bad eater. The docs think one of the (many) reasons I had a stress fracture last Christmas was because I had this thing called “REDs” which is Relative Energy Deficiency Syndrome in Sport. It’s a fancy term for something that seems to me to be pretty simple. I didn’t eat enough. Not that I didn’t eat the right things – I was religious about getting in my whole grains, veggies, beans and other protein sources. The problem was that I wasn’t eating enough.

A couple of weeks ago, I went to see my new massage therapist. He’s a man called Garry Miridis and, amongst other things, he used to look after Cathy Freeman. Yes – the Cathy Freeman.

A few days ago I had a long discussion with my brilliant Melbourne-based physio Ali Low and my new athlete manager Tim Cole. We were talking about an injury that has literally stopped me in my running tracks – over the past 10 days or so, I have been forced into the pool and stressing on a daily basis about the fact that I’m well….not running.

Picture this. It’s just turned 6am. It’s pitch black and outside it’s 4 degrees, but feels closer to zero. Wind careens across the ground, and rain is in the forecast.

I have a secret: I’m actually okay with not running. It’s nice to sleep in on a wintry morning and not have to go out into the cold trussed up like a chicken with water in my backpack that feels like it’s been in the deep freeze.

Over the past few years, I have had the opportunity to ask people what water means to them. During the 7 Deserts Run in 2016, I was haunted (and still am) by this comment from one person I met: “The question isn’t if the water will run out in Jordan, it is when. Perhaps it will be in my lifetime, [it will] definitely be in my children’s lifetime.”

Several years ago my Mama made me promise her I’d never climb Everest. At the time, I agonised over the request. I stood in my bedroom looking out over the smog hidden rooftops of Beijing thinking about the corner of the dream I thought I was being asked to relinquish. We wound around a variety of topics - safety, altitude, risk, teamwork, risk. I thought I knew what we were discussing as many years earlier I’d made the trek to K2 basecamp and met a bunch of successful Everest Summiteers who were then preparing for an ascent of K2.

It is the beginning of May 2017, and less than 10 days ago I finished an admittedly crazy, and perhaps seemingly impossible quest. On March 22, 2017 in Las Vegas, Nevada, I started to run a marathon a day for 40 days along six of the world's most iconic and precious rivers to draw attention to the global water crisis. Now that it’s all over, I’ve run a total of 1,688 kilometers.

I’ve been in love with the capital of England for as long as I can remember. As a teenager born and living in Australia, when I first heard The Clash singing London Calling I’d pretend it was written for me. Decades later, as an adult corporate lawyer, I lived and worked in the city while procuring assets for a boutique climate change investment fund. But I left that to set up a water advocacy non-profit in Beijing.