Adventure means different things to different people. Sometimes, it is about discovering who you’ve become along the way.
From wild swimming to running marathons, and now setting her sights on the 630-mile-long South West Coast Path, we sit down with Tess, over a coffee, on the coast in Lyme Regis, England. A presenter and advocate with a mission to make holistic support more accessible for neurodivergent women, Tess shares what truly fuels her adventures. For her, adventure has become a lesson in resilience, self-belief and discovering what is possible when you stop allowing others to define your limits.
Q: Tell us a bit more about yourself and what’s important to you in life?
My name's Tess and I live here in Lyme Regis with my three children, my husband and our cocker spaniel puppy, who is complete chaos – probably harder work than the three kids.
Family is incredibly important to me, as is spending time outdoors and connecting with nature. We spend an awful lot of time at the beach on the coastline, finding places where we can connect with each other and connect outdoors. I think that that is just so important when it comes to raising our kids.
I have three little girls, and I really want them to feel empowered as they grow up and to become a force of nature in their own right. Being a positive role model for them is really important to me.
Q: What does adventure mean to you?
I feel like I’ve redefined what adventure means to me over the last few years, particularly since having children. Adventure always used to be about finding the biggest hotspot or doing something really grand, often inspired by what you see on social media.
But for me now, adventure is about discovering something about yourself through what you see, where you go and what you experience. I say this about racing, actually: the person you meet at the end of a race isn’t necessarily the same person who started it. You discover a different version of yourself along the way. You might not always like her, but you need to get to know her and have grace for her.
So for me, going on an adventure, whether it’s with my kids, on my own or with my husband, is about discovering the parts of yourself that want to be expressed and witnessed. It’s not necessarily about how the adventure looks from the outside, but how it feels on the inside.
Q: Tell us more about your running journey and what it means to you?
My running journey started in 2023. I went from the couch to the London Marathon in four months. I’d never run a 5K, or even run with another person, so my first race was the London Marathon. I started quite big, and I fell in love with the process. I loved the routine, the rhythm and the feeling of reaching new heights. It was really, really addictive. I had the most incredible day, and the London Marathon is just magical.
After that, though, I really struggled to maintain running. I think I burned out somewhat, and I went through a period of struggling with my mental health where running just wasn’t a priority.
Then, in 2025, I was sitting on one of my usual running routes and decided it was time to get back into it. Everything had changed. It became not just about what I could achieve, but who I became while achieving it. I absolutely fell in love with the whole process.
I ended up running two marathons at the beginning of this year because one didn’t feel like enough. I started training more consistently and enjoying the process more. It became more about the journey than the end result.
Running has now become an essential part of managing life as a mother, a wife and as someone who is neurodivergent. It gets me outdoors, out of my head and into my body. The exercise and endorphins are amazing, but for me, it’s so much more than that.
Q: How do you think movement and spending time in nature can help us manage stress, improve our mental health, and cope with everyday challenges?
I think as humans, we spend an awful lot of time in our heads, and I don’t think that’s always the best place for us to be. The wisdom isn’t necessarily there, the wisdom is in our bodies, and our bodies already know.
The more time we can spend out of our heads and in our bodies, the better and healthier we are, both mentally and physically.
For me, movement is how I do that. It slows everything down and quietens the limiting beliefs, doubt and distrust. All of that falls away because you’re simply focused on the moment. It’s an active mindfulness; an active form of self-love.
You don’t need to be running huge distances. Even getting outside for a walk can make a difference. It may not solve every problem, but it can give you the space to switch off, reconnect with your body and ground yourself in nature through movement that feels good.
We’ve all got problems and things we struggle with, and they’re not necessarily going to disappear. But if we can learn to manage them and develop healthy coping skills, I think that can help us move forward.
Q: You also spend time practising wild swimming, can you tell us more about that?
I’ve always had an incredible affinity with the water. My family used to joke that they could never take me to the beach because I’d always end up in the ocean. I knew from a really young age that the ocean was an incredibly regulating place for me, somewhere I could express myself, be playful and bring more movement into my day.I think we lose some of those parts of ourselves as we grow up, so reclaiming them has been really powerful for me.
I’ve been consistently sea swimming for about five years now, all year round, including through the winter months, and I genuinely love the process. Again, it’s about getting out of your head and into your body. Your body takes over, and you learn to trust that it knows what to do, especially when you’re swimming in the really cold months.
Q: How does wild swimming enable a deeper connection?
There’s something incredibly empowering about doing something that’s tough but ultimately feels good. It’s also something I can do on my own, with my family or with friends. It can be really social, or it can be incredibly healing. I’ll often have an emotional release when we go into the ocean. You never quite know what’s going to come up for you, but sometimes those things need to come up and be felt.
And then, in a way, you can leave them there. You can give them to the ocean, give them to nature, and come out feeling more like yourself. I think that’s what healing is: becoming more of yourself and reconnecting with the things that bring you joy.
Q: You’ve got some big running goals coming up, what’s first?
I’m currently signed up for my first ultramarathon, which will be 54 kilometres along the Jurassic Coast. It’s not too much further than a marathon, but the inclines make it a whole new ball game, which I’m having to wrap my head around.
I used to be very much “don’t stop, hit your pace”, always trying to run as fast as possible. But ultramarathon training isn’t like that. It’s much more about time on your feet. You might run 5K and it could take you an hour because the inclines are so big and intense. That’s definitely been a learning curve, and a lot of my training at the moment is focused on that.
I’m running three times a week and doing strength training twice a week in the gym. My runs are now all taking place on the South West Coast Path, which has been transformative. I get a feeling from being on the trails that I don’t get from road running. Something about being out there makes your brain go completely quiet. It feels like a feeling that people chase. I’m obsessed with that feeling.
The immediate goal is my 54-kilometre ultra, and I’m aiming for 100 kilometres next spring. After that, I have one very, very big goal. My absolute bucket-list challenge would be to run the entire South West Coast Path, which is 630 miles long. It would be the equivalent of running a marathon a day for just over a month.
Q: Wow. How are you feeling about the challenge?
I have no idea if that’s physically possible for me, but I really want to find out if I can. And why not me? Other people have done it. I want to be one of those people. I want to push myself and see the whole coast path. I think it’s a magical part of the world, but also a very restorative and healing one. I love that it’s very different, but also very repetitive. I think that’s really comforting for our brains. It’s novelty, but also safety in a way. I don’t know exactly how that works, but it works for me.
If I can achieve that, I’d be deliriously happy. But for now, it’s the 54K ultra and then hopefully a 100K next year. And I think, again, when you take on any challenge, the version of yourself you meet along the way is one you need to get to know. It’s messy and imperfect, and there will be parts of yourself that you don’t like. But they still deserve to be witnessed, understood and met with grace.
I think that’s what’s so addictive about these challenges. Whether people are running ultras, the length of the UK or the coast path, you’re going to meet a version of yourself that you get to know and, ultimately, learn to love. I think that’s really what these challenges mean to people. It’s certainly what they mean to me.
Q: What has your move into trail and ultra running brought you most?
I genuinely love running because it’s quite a singular act. I really enjoy having that time to myself. It helps me process other social situations and recharge my social battery. So I love that it’s a solo activity, but at the same time, the running community is one of the most supportive communities I’ve ever been part of.
I think that becomes even stronger as you move into the ultra-running community. When you’re out on the trails, people don’t care about your pace or how you look. They don’t care if you’re out of breath, struggling, crying or even bleeding. They’re just rooting for you in this incredibly organic way. It’s pure human kindness.
It doesn’t matter how you look or how you’re doing it. People are simply proud to see you out there, and they genuinely want you to succeed. That’s one of the things I’ve really noticed since moving onto the trails; how much people want to see you succeed, be part of that journey and celebrate it with you. And you naturally want the same for them.
It’s been absolutely beautiful to witness. I’m so excited for race day and to see all of that come together. Taking all the training you’ve done on your own and suddenly sharing it with people who understand the journey because they’ve been on their own. That’s what I’m really looking forward to.
Q: How has running helped you to better understand yourself?
I think the physical aspect of running is amazing, but the reason I find it so addictive is the mental side – how it supports my life, my wellbeing and my neurodiversity.
I only recently learned that running can be a form of stimming, which made so much sense to me. It explains why long runs can feel so regulating, particularly for neurodivergent people. I had no idea about that, and I find it fascinating that I’ve been naturally drawn to something that can be such a healthy way of regulating the nervous system.
Being on the trails helps me process a lot of social and sensory input. I always describe being autistic as having a bucket that can get quite full. Spending time alone, running in my own flow and rhythm, helps siphon off that excess. It means I can be more present at home and have more tolerance for things I might otherwise struggle with. It sounds counterintuitive when you’re exhausted to go for a run, but it’s a different kind of exhaustion. I can be exhausted by my children or tired by life, but when I go for a run, I actually have more to give afterwards. The mental benefits for me outweigh the physical ones.
And specifically with trail running, there’s something I absolutely love. When you’re running on the road, if it gets tough, it can stay tough for most of the run. On the trails, it can be incredibly hard, but as soon as you reach the top of an incline, you’re suddenly loving life again. You feel like you could go on forever. That feeling feels much more like life to me. You can be going through a really difficult uphill section, and then you get over the top and suddenly feel like you could keep going forever. I love that metaphor between the trails and life, and the idea of overcoming obstacles.
The things you think are going to beat you often have something quite magical waiting on the other side. You just have to hold on. Trail running feels like a physical metaphor for that. If you can keep going through the inclines, you can learn to handle the harder parts of life too.
I really love the poetry of that. It’s helped build my mental resilience and reminded me that, while we can’t always control what life throws at us, we can control how we choose to face it.
Q: What does “fueling your adventure” mean to you beyond physical nutrition?
I love the idea that fuelling your adventure is about the physical fuel, which is obviously essential. What we put into our bodies has a direct impact on what we’re able to do. But for me, there’s another kind of fuel that motivates me completely: my three daughters.
Having three daughters in this world, I want them to be powerful. I want them to be a force of nature. I want them to live big, set ridiculous goals that make people say, “Who do you think you are?”, and then go and give them everything. And if they don’t achieve them, that’s okay too. I want them to figure out who they are and have the confidence to go for it.
If someone tells me I can’t do something, that’s fuel for me. It makes me think, “Watch me.” It’s not normal to go from the couch to a marathon in four months, and I did that. Is it normal to run the South West Coast Path? No. But why not me?
Q: What would you say motivates you the most?
A huge motivator for me, both spiritually and metaphorically, is pushing my limits, seeing what I can achieve and discovering who I become in the process.
And I want my children to witness that, especially as a woman. I want them to see that our own goals don’t have to go on the back burner. We can be amazing mothers and still be whole human beings with ambitions, passions and things that matter to us.
I think that’s so important for them to see, because if they ever have children of their own, I want them to know that they’re allowed to be multiple things. I want them to understand how strong our bodies are and that the limits people put on us often say more about them than they do about us.
We get to decide our limits. We get to decide how far we rise. And that, for me, is the real fuel that keeps me going.
Q: What do you hope people take away from this?
The thing I really hope people take from my story is that when you hit rock bottom, the only way is up. There are tools, people, community and nature that can help you get back up, even when it feels completely impossible.
Often, the moments that break us are the ones that make us. I know that sounds corny — and it is. It’s probably the last thing you want to hear when you’re in a really dark place. But it’s annoying, and it’s true.
If you’re in that space, I hope you can hear my journey and not take on the trauma, but take on the hope. That’s what I hope for. That people can hear this story and feel hopeful that they, too, can find their way forward.
