Today, I took the initiative to clean Palemeira Square, Adelaide Crescent and the area surrounding the clock in Palmeira Square, where a memorial stands for the victims of October 7. The site had become neglected, and I felt it was important to restore some respect and order to the space—not just for those it commemorates, but for the wider community that walks past it daily.

While I respect the act of remembrance and the pain of loss, I cannot ignore the hypocrisy of those who created this memorial while simultaneously denying or ignoring the ongoing genocide in Gaza. Grief should never be selective. To honor victims in one place while refusing to acknowledge mass suffering elsewhere is a form of moral inconsistency that we, as a society, must challenge.

Today’s clean-up was not just about tidying a public space. It was also a quiet act of protest—a reminder that remembrance must be rooted in justice for all.

16 Goodgymmers made the short jog over to Brighton Community Kitchen on Queens Road for our regular clean-up mission. We welcomed new Goodgymmer Charli, who has recently made the big move from Worthing over to Brighton, for her first task.

The Brighton Community Kitchen does vital work in the community to teach valuable cooking skills to those who might otherwise might not have access. Recently they have been working with the Marcus Rashford-backed project to provide meals over the holidays to children who are eligible for free school dinners. They have hosted classes for both the children and their parents to impart practical day-to-day cooking skills.

We were excited to see that the Kitchen has recently been upgraded with new sinks and a Food Dehydrator. The dehydrator particularly allows them to preserve vegetables that wouldn't otherwise by used, store them and later use them as ingredients. There was a big batch of Tomatoes, Onions and Carrots in the dehyradator during our clean.

Jo greeted us with her usual enthusiasm and gratitude, along with her famous todo list on the wall. This time we cleaned all the windows both inside and out, transformed the drawers from chaos to order, gave all the stools and work surfaces a good cleandown, scrubbed the ovens and of course sorted the cheese graters! Our extra large turnout meant we were able to knock-off all the tasks in no time.

With our tasks finished and everything ticked off of Jo's list we sauntered off into the summer night back to our own (slightly less sparkly clean) kitchens.

This week's maxi challenge was a Brighton Pride weekend tradition: the Sunday morning beach clean 🌊🌈

Accessorised with blue bags and litter pickers, we sashayed along the shoreline picking up an assortment of plastic wrappers, cigarette butts, and tired old coffee cups 😬 Litter? we don't know her.

Goodgymers, although your outfit choices were more pedestrian than pavilion, your collective effort helped restore our beloved beach from trashy to classy, and for that you are all queens 👸

Happy Pride everyone! 🌈✨️

On Friday, a colourful crew of GoodGym members laced up (or turned up!) for the Rainbow Run — a joyful, inclusive 5K hosted by the Brighton & Hove Frontrunners as part of Pride celebrations.

Some of us came to run, proudly wearing rainbow socks, sequins, and smiles. Others showed up to marshal the route with enthusiasm and cheers, keeping runners safe and spirits high. And of course, a few GoodGym-ers made it their mission to cheer, snap photos, and support with the energy only our group can bring.

After the last runners crossed the line, most of us stuck around to help with the less glamorous but just as vital job of dismantling the race area — yes, that meant taking down bunting, taking out flags and poles, and de-glittering whatever we could.

The Rainbow Run wasn’t just a 5K — it was a celebration of inclusion and visibility, open to ALL runners: those who run fast or slow, those who run alone or with others, those who run on both sides of the road, those who cross the road when running, those who run in secret and those who don’t. The Rainbow Run was for everyone.

A huge thank you to Graham from B&H Frontrunners for all the brilliant organising and ideas that made the event run smoothly, to Rosie and Pippa for suggesting we get involved in the first place, and to El, who travelled all the way from Worthing to join the fun.

We wrapped up the day in true GoodGym style — with a picnic in the park. There was sunshine, laughter, great company, and yes — of course — I brought hummus. It also happened to be my birthday, and I couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend it than surrounded by this wonderful GoodGym community. I’m so grateful for the joy, the support, and the shared silliness — truly the best birthday gift of all. 🌈💪🏃‍♀️🎉

While the world may be getting harder out there, events like Rainbow Run remind us why it matters to come together, to celebrate, and to keep running — for joy, for each other, and for a more colourful world.

When I heard that a beach hut owner in Hove had chosen to paint her hut in the colours of my home county's flag—and that she was being asked to remove it—I felt something stir deeply in me. This wasn’t just about paint. It was about identity, history, and the quiet courage to be seen.

She bought that hut with her own hard-earned money. It was hers. And she used it to express something that mattered to her—and to many of us. So when the chance came to help her repaint it, I didn’t hesitate. I showed up with a plat of Hummus in hand and a heart full of emotion.

What the council—and others—might not realise is that those colours are not just stripes. They are stories.

Black represents mourning and sorrow over generations of injustice. It’s the silence over the laughter of children that has been stifled for far too long.

White is for peace and love—a reminder of peaceful messages and a longing for hearts unclouded by hate.

Green speaks to hope, renewal, and the dream that our barren land may once again flourish.

Red lives in defense of family, land, and dignity.

Each colour is a reflection of lived reality. Of loss. Of strength. Of faith in a better tomorrow.

Helping repaint that hut was one of the most emotional things I’ve done. With each brushstroke, we weren’t just covering wood—we were holding space for something sacred. A home. A memory. A people.

That beach hut was never meant to divide. It was a quiet form of expression. A personal symbol of pride, resilience, and longing for peace.

I only wish more people could see it that way.