The Long Road: David Regal’s Story
David Regal wakes up most mornings the way people with Sjögren’s often do - taking stock. What hurts. What’s stiff. What kind of day his body seems willing to give him. It’s never the same twice. Some days the fatigue sits heavy before he’s even out of bed. Some days the joint pain is the first thing he feels. Fibromyalgia adds its own unpredictable rhythm. Reflux reminds him that even food has to be negotiated.
None of this is dramatic. It’s just the background noise of his life. But it’s the backdrop against which he decided to run.
Running didn’t arrive as a bold declaration. It started quietly, almost shyly, on a day when he felt just well enough to try. He didn’t know if he’d make it around the block. He didn’t know if he’d pay for it later. But he stepped outside anyway. The first run was rough. So was the second. But something in him kept pulling forward. Running didn’t erase his symptoms, but it carved out a space where he could move without feeling defined by them.
Over time, the runs stitched themselves into a routine. Then a goal. Then a possibility he hadn’t dared consider before: a marathon.
When he finished his first half marathon, he didn’t treat it like a victory lap. He just felt a quiet, stubborn pride. A sense that maybe his body hadn’t taken everything from him after all.
The Sydney Marathon became the next horizon. He didn’t get in through the ballot, so he signed up as a charity runner, raised the funds, and kept training. Every run was a negotiation of pain, dryness, exhaustion, pacing, listening, stopping when he had to. Some days he felt strong. Some days he felt like he was running through mud. But he kept going.
When he emailed Sjögren’s Australia, he didn’t try to make his story sound inspirational. He didn’t embellish. He just said he had Sjögren’s, fibromyalgia and reflux, and he was running his first marathon. He thought maybe sharing that could help raise awareness.
What he didn’t spell out (but what sits between every line) is how challenging it is for someone with his conditions to get this far. How much grit it takes to keep moving when your body is unpredictable. How isolating it can feel to be a man with Sjögren’s, a condition still widely misunderstood. How much courage it takes to keep showing up for yourself when no one is watching.
Sjögren’s Australia Founder Gavin wrote back, recognising him from the community page, telling him how proud he should be. David didn’t deflect. He didn’t minimise. He just said he felt grateful. Grateful that a marathon was even a realistic goal. Grateful that maybe one day more people with Sjögren’s would be able to do the same.
David’s story isn’t a neat arc or a motivational slogan. It’s a man choosing not to let his conditions shrink his world. It’s someone pushing toward a horizon that once felt impossible. It’s the kind of inspiration that doesn’t announce itself - it grows quietly, run by run, choice by choice.
On marathon day, David will stand among thousands of runners. Most won’t know what it took for him to get there. They won’t know the mornings he could barely move, or the nights pain kept him awake, or the determination that carried him through every training run.
But our community will know.
And for many, seeing David on that starting line won’t just be encouraging. It will feel like possibility. Like hope. Like proof that even with Sjögren’s, the road forward is still wide enough to run.
If you’d like to share your own story, we’re here to listen.
