Why Run a 50K on a Treadmill in a Shopping Centre?

Why Run a 50K on a Treadmill in a Shopping Centre?

(Because standing still never changed anything.)

If you want people to listen, you first have to make them look up from their phones.

I knew my running had to be impossible to ignore. Not subtle. Not sensible. The kind of run that makes people stop mid-stride, squint slightly, and say, “Hang on… what on earth is going on there?”

And that's what cancer survivor and ultra runner Andy Hood does best.

Once I had their attention, I could deliver the real message, cancer awareness.

The aim was simple: encourage men to be open about their health, feel confident checking for the signs of testicular cancer, and know it’s okay to reach out for support. Along the way, I wanted to support cancer charities doing genuinely brilliant work.

So I came up with this idea:

A treadmill.

A 50K.

A busy shopping centre.

Naturally, it escalated.

What actually happened was two treadmills in a packed shopping centre on a Saturday in April. Because if you’re going to do something daft, you might as well commit properly.

My strength coach and gym owner didn’t even flinch when I asked if I could “borrow” a couple of his treadmills. Steve has the patience of a saint, the generosity of a hero, and possibly questionable judgement when it comes to enabling my ideas.

Testing the treadmills ahead of the start

Next came the important calls. The Fern Centre in North Devon, who support people navigating cancer with everything from drop-in cake and coffee chats (the best kind of therapy), to financial advice, wig fittings and bra fittings. And then Oddballs, who I’d got to know along the way. Both charities turned up on the day, spoke to hundreds of shoppers, and helped raise an incredible amount for their causes.

I ran the 50K with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning. I chatted with shoppers about my cancer journey and why I was there, smiled for more selfies than I knew was possible, and fuelled up on a slushie and a handful of sweets kindly donated by the manager at So Sweet. Elite endurance nutrition at its finest.

Manager from So Sweet bring me nutrition!

The second treadmill was there for anyone who wanted to jump on and run a mile or two with me. The response was so good we ended up with a waiting list and had to assign time slots. Even my personal trainer, a man with a deep-rooted fear of cardio, was spotted running. Outstanding work, Steve. Growth happens outside the comfort zone.

One of the most unexpected and powerful moments came from the teenagers who stopped to talk. They asked questions, showed genuine interest, and happily took selfies with a very sweaty stranger to post on their socials. I hadn’t anticipated that at all, and it meant more than I can put into words.

This run ticked every box. It was fun, brutally tough, highly engaging, and , as far as I know, probably never been done before. In hindsight, I should’ve checked the World Records. We had a huge number of eyes on the run, both in person and across Instagram and Facebook.

We raised awareness.

We raised money.

Both matter equally.

Less than a year later, I found myself back on a treadmill again, this time for a 24-hour run. Because apparently I don’t learn.

I’m often asked if I’ll ever run another ultra on a treadmill in a public place. The answer is an easy yes.

I just need to find somewhere that makes me think, “Wow… really?” — and stops people in their tracks all over again.