As a GP and a new mum now, I look back at my journey through sports and realise that the biggest barriers I faced weren't physical - they were psychological.
Growing up, whether it was team sports at school, martial arts, or the Duke of Edinburgh Award, I carried a constant weight of anxiety.
The root of it was simple: I never saw anyone who looked like me in those spaces. When you are the ‘only one,’ every detail becomes a source of stress.
I didn't have anyone to ask for practical advice, and I spent so much mental energy worrying about the ‘how-tos’ that others took for granted:
How do I tie my hijab so it doesn't fall off mid-match?
What clothes can I wear that are modest but won't hinder my performance?
Will there be a quiet corner for me to pray at the venue?
Will people think I look ‘funny’ or out of place?
This led to an intense internal pressure to perform. I felt that if I wasn't the best, people might assume it was my dress or my faith holding me back. I wasn't just representing myself; I felt I was representing every Muslim woman.
I was incredibly lucky to have the support of my family, especially my mum. She was my biggest advocate, pushing me to take part and take up space anyway.
Because of her encouragement, I excelled in many school sports, travelling up and down the country competing, and then as an adult transitioned to the grit of marathons, ultra-marathons, and obstacle course races.
I realised that by being there, I was becoming the role model I had been looking for.
Even today, as I try new things where Muslim women or South Asian hijabis are underrepresented, that old familiar feeling can creep back in.
But I’ve learned that our presence in these spaces is a form of deep medicine - not just for our own physical vitality, but for the representation that allows the next generation to show up without the anxiety I carried.
Growing up I took part in all the team sports at school that I could. I was representing my city in rowing and earned a black belt in Karate - a sport where discipline was everything. But it was during the high-pressure years of medical school and struggling with low mood that I found my true ‘medicine’ - running.
Since my first half marathon in 2013, it has been a passion. I’ve crossed over 60 finish lines - from 5ks to ultramarathons, triathlon, mountain races and obstacle course races.
One of my proudest moments was competing on the world stage at the Obstacle Course Race World Championships. I stood there as a Hijabi, seeing no one else who looked like me, but feeling an immense sense of pride that I was taking up that space.
For me, being outdoors in God’s creation is where my mind finally goes quiet. It is where I contemplate and feel closest to Him.
During my years in hospital medicine, I lived in my gym kit. I’d finish a 13-hour shift and drive straight to the gym, or I’d bike 1.5 hours to work just to get the mileage in.
I’ve even raced during Ramadan while working night shifts, because I wanted to prove that we can achieve the ‘impossible’ with the right mindset.
Keeping fit was also the best way I could manage the high pressure and stress of being a doctor.
During this time I also started cold water swimming and found that helped my mental health so much.
Even when I was training as a GP and being told I ‘wouldn't have time’ to give lifestyle advice, I refused to listen.
Preventative medicine is everything. In 2023, I founded a walking group for Type 2 diabetics with poor control, coaching them through the very lifestyle choices that saved me.
I have asthma and multiple health struggles, and I know firsthand that staying fit is what keeps these conditions under control.
Movement isn't just a hobby; it’s a clinical necessity.
These days I’m still loving cold water swimming but it’s a lot more challenging with a baby! So I do it wherever I get the chance and it’s a huge mood booster.
In 2022, I suffered a serious ankle injury during and had to be stretchered off by ambulance and mountain rescue. The subsequent poor management of that injury meant I couldn't run for 3.5 years.
I lost my identity.
All my friends were runners, and suddenly, I couldn't run.
That same year, my husband had a serious cycling accident that rocked my confidence even further.
I had to find myself again through the ‘slow’ movements - Pilates, yoga, and cycling - learning that movement is still medicine, even when it’s not fast.
Having my baby a couple of years ago changed everything again. I struggled deeply with PPA, depression, and health problems that left me feeling completely lost.
I couldn't find the balance. It took me 7 to 8 months just to feel able to move consistently again. But when I did, the transformation was instant.
I still find it really difficult to ‘find time’ to exercise in the house juggling baby and house work and work.
But I knew my mental health depended on it and I had to stop making excuses and started buggy running. It was the only way to prioritise myself and I figured if I was out for a pram walk with baby, I might as well run.
I was really inspired by @aneila.active another hijabi buggy runner I saw her doing a half marathon on the news and thought, that’s what I want to do.
I started with pelvic floor work and moved to mental health pram walks, which eventually led back to my first 5k. I did a 5k with the buggy and the next challenge God willing is a buggy half marathon. It’s just hard to find races that allow buggies!
Since then, I keep setting myself challenges to help me from burning out and keep my mental health in check.
I completed 120km of buggy running for RED January, raising funds for Mind, and spent every day in February outdoors with my baby, no matter the weather.
I was recently invited to be an ambassador for Charity Right and raised £1300 for hungry children during their Active Ramadan challenge - moving every day with my baby and promoting movement on social media.
Now, I’m planning a half marathon with the buggy. I still struggle with my mental health and burnout, but I’ve learned my fail-safe - if I’m feeling low, it’s because I haven’t moved. I don't let the weather stop us - we get the waterproofs on and we go.
Whether it's a mountain hike with a toddler on my back or a simple walk, I am a passionate advocate for mums because I’ve been in the dark places.
I’ve worked with patients facing the most difficult health barriers, and we always found a way to move.
Movement is more than a workout - it is a lifeline.