Jess Bloom

Every Step, Every Tail Wag, Every Kilometre Counts

My girls and I are lacing up (well… I’m lacing up, and they’re just bouncing with excitement) because every kilometre we walk is for a cause that touches almost every family: cancer.

We walk for the fighters. We walk for the survivors. We walk for the ones we’ve lost. We walk for the ones who will one day need us.

Each step is a reminder that no one faces cancer alone — not while there are communities willing to show up, move forward, and push for change. And that’s exactly what we’re doing with every kilometre we cover.

Every dollar raised fuels life‑saving cancer research, prevention programs, and essential support services that help people navigate one of the hardest journeys life can throw at them. When you donate, you’re not just giving money — you’re giving hope, strength, and the possibility of better tomorrows.

So here’s to the kilometres ahead, the wagging tails beside me, and the community behind us. Together, we can turn steps into impact.

The Power of Showing Up

There’s something extraordinary about the way a community gathers around a cause. It isn’t loud or flashy. It’s a quiet, steady heartbeat — people choosing to show up, again and again, because they believe in something bigger than themselves.

Over the past few days, I’ve been reminded just how powerful that heartbeat can be. Every donation, every share, every message of encouragement has become part of a growing ripple. And those ripples matter. They turn into momentum. They turn into change.

This fundraiser isn’t just about reaching a financial goal. It’s about building a bridge — one that connects compassion to action, and action to impact. When you contribute, you’re not just giving money. You’re giving someone a chance at stability, dignity, and hope.

And hope is contagious.

What I love most is how each person brings something different to the table. Some give what they can financially. Others spread the word. Some offer skills, time, or simply a kind word. All of it counts. All of it moves us forward.

If you’ve already supported the fundraiser, thank you. Truly.

If you’re just joining us, welcome — your presence here matters more than you know.

Together, we’re proving that small acts, multiplied by many, can transform lives.

If you feel called to help, you can donate here or share the fundraiser with someone who might resonate with the cause.

Every gesture becomes part of the story we’re writing — a story rooted in generosity, community, and the belief that we rise by lifting others.

Walking 50km in June: A Journey of Paws, Purpose, and Quiet Hope

There’s a particular kind of courage that blooms in winter—the soft, steady kind that doesn’t need to announce itself. It’s the courage of showing up, step after step, even when the air is cool and the world feels a little heavier than usual. This June, I’m choosing that kind of courage. I’m walking 50 kilometres with my two little shadows—my dachshunds—padding faithfully beside me, their tails writing tiny exclamation marks of joy into the morning light.

We’re walking for cancer research, for the people we love, for the ones we’ve lost, and for the ones still fighting. We’re walking because hope deserves motion. Because grief deserves gentleness. Because love deserves a path to travel.

Why We Walk

Cancer has a way of rearranging the furniture of a life. It shifts priorities, reshapes relationships, and teaches us—sometimes too quickly—what truly matters. This walk is my way of honouring those lessons. Each kilometre is a small offering, a whispered prayer, a promise that none of us walk alone.

My dogs don’t know the word cancer, but they understand devotion. They understand showing up. They understand how healing it can be to move forward, even slowly, especially together. Their presence turns every kilometre into something softer, something almost sacred.

The Rhythm of the Journey

Some days, the walk feels like a celebration—sun on our backs, the world humming with possibility. Other days, it feels like a quiet vigil, each step a memory, each breath a reminder of why this matters. But always, there is companionship. Always, there is the steady rhythm of paws beside me, grounding me in the present moment.

We wander through parks, along riverbanks, down familiar streets that somehow feel different when walked with intention. The dogs sniff every blade of grass as if cataloguing the world’s small miracles. I try to follow their lead.

What I Hope For

I hope these 50 kilometres help fund breakthroughs that change lives. I hope they spark conversations, inspire generosity, and remind people that even small steps can ripple outward in ways we can’t always see.

But I also hope this journey offers something quieter: a sense of connection. A reminder that healing isn’t always loud or dramatic. Sometimes it’s just a person and their dogs, walking through June with open hearts and steady feet.

If You’d Like to Support Us

Your support—whether through donation, sharing, or simply cheering us on—means more than I can say. Every contribution helps fuel research, hope, and the possibility of a future where fewer families face the weight of this disease.

And if you’re walking your own path through grief, love, or uncertainty, I hope you feel a little less alone knowing we’re out here too, moving gently forward