Landing the knockout.

We headed up to Skye on Friday, Pauline did all the driving and what a gorgeous day, brilliant blue skies all the way and that was the forecast for the whole weekend. 

We picked up our numbers and met up with the Sheffield crew, lovely to see them, we only see them at the Skye Half and they didn't manage up last year, also Joss and Irma, a Dutch couple that just happened to be in the pub after the race over ten years ago, Joss has now ran the race around four times although he'd never ran before or any other race for that matter.

Saturday morning for the first time in over a week I managed to eat real food, a small bowl of porridge, I hoped this is the turning point and my mouth and throat was starting to heal.  Although it was going to be a warm and sunny day I decided to wear my 2XU compression tights as worn by top class athletes and eejits that have done naff all running since March 6th and plan to run a half marathon on memory and would like their legs to stay in motion and in the upright position!   With it being sunny I better wear my big hat too, I have to keep my radiation burnt skin out of the sun, also a Buff scarf, I tucked it under the cord of my hat to stop it rubbing the tender skin under my chin. Not normal running gear I know but if it protected me I didn't care what I looked like.  Also for luck I pinned my number on with my little humming bird brooch and my  boxing gloves.  I did originally attached the boxing gloves to my bumbag, I planned to carry ginger beer and my syringe if I couldn't manage to swallow, but my bumbag wasn't comfy, it pushed  the feeding tube into my tummy so Pauline said she would carry it for me.

I wasn't nervous before the start I just wanted to get going, I had no doubt I'd finish, I've never DNF'd and I never will, it would just take a long time. We were walked to the start by the Pipe Band and then we were off.  My legs were running!  It felt fine, nothing wobbled due to the compression tights but they had no energy or bounce that you would normally feel at the start of a race but that was ok, I went straight into ultra shuffle and energy conservation, as soon as we rounded the corner and started up the hill we walked. West Highland Way race rules, walk the hills, run the flats and downs.   It was great to be running, the pace was irrelevant, I was running!

My mouth felt not too bad, I manage to drink at the water stations and have small sips of my flat ginger beer,  I was so glad it didn't nip. After half way,  my energy level was the same as if I'd been running for around twenty hours, luckily I've had a fair bit of practice at that, just relax and keep moving forward as best as I can.  At least it was just my muscles that felt that tired, my guts were fine, and so was my head, they usually start to get a bit dozy when you've been running for around a day! 

We had a lovely surprise at the turn just after seven miles, we heard someone shouting to us,  they were too faraway to recognise but it sounded like Jackie Baxter, (also from Dunfermline) it was Jackie! What was she doing here? I received hug and a brilliant boost, she was here with Martin, he was meant to run but was injured, they still came up for the weekend.  

                                     

The next couple of miles are not what you'd call a hill but it gradually goes up, not steep enough to walk but too hard for me to keep running, so Pauline started to time thirty seconds run, thirty seconds walk until the start of the hill proper, I was still managing to swallow my ginger beer even though it was small mouthfuls.  At the top of the hill, we ran all the way down, Stevie Hards came back to meet us, I did have to have a few wee walks heading into Portree, once back into the town I kept it running, there was nothing left in my legs, I panicked for a second when I had to step up a kerb, I nearly didn't make it, if I'd fallen would I be able to get back up? Hang on, and keep moving forward was my only thought, there's a wee hill up to the finish, will I manage to keep running? 

I did!  2hrs 55mis 57secs.  I bent forward with my hands on my knees, I felt ok, but I didn't want to take a funny turn and my big hat kept my emotion under wraps until I could gather my face into a smile.  

                                                                        The bastard was decked!  

The Skye Half has one of the best race mementos ever,  a specially engraved shot glass and a miniature of Talisker.  I'll keep mine for later and savour it when my mouth is better.  

                                                   (this was last year, we drank it at the coral beach)

A slow walk back to our B&B, Pauline had her shower first, I had a wee lie down.  We just had a quiet afternoon but managed out to the Tongadale in the evening, the walk would do me good, also had some medicinal Guinness, except it nipped my mouth, but I had a syringe and I wasn't afraid to use it!  The company was good and we were the last out the pub!  Same time next year folks!

On Sunday every muscle was sore, my shoulders, my arms, and my legs were as stiff as if I'd ran a big ultra but I was happy.  It might have just been thirteen miles but on my road to recovery it was over a hundred!  I still have clinics and stuff but that is it, I am getting back to being me.

The daft thing is on  Sunday I felt as if my mouth was going to heal quickly, it wasn't too sore and I was looking forward to getting back to eating  but by Monday night it was quite sore again, I think my body's own endorphins had worn off.  Gonna have to get me some more of them, they work better than prescription painkillers!  

I will be sensible for a wee bit, gather my strength slowly, my next race isn't until August, the 48 hour at the British Ultra Fest.  Pick your chin up off the floor!  It will be my 48 hours to do as much or as little as I like, no pressure for any distance. Run a bit, walk a bit, sit down for a bit. I'll even do a Knoxy (a technical term for having a seven hour kip during a race!) 

I'm not kidding anyone here am I?  Ok, I have a goal, and I have adjusted  it from when I entered the race at the end of last year and it takes into account my lack of training and assault on my health, and there will be no pressure... 200km.  Just 100km a day, that's do-able right? 

Going for the knockout!

The past couple of weeks have been the hardest, and I thought I wouldn't be going to Skye with my mouth being so sore and with struggling to eat. I asked Pauline would she still go if she could get someone to go with her. (Oh, before you get into this post I think  I better warn you if sweary words offend you, there are a few here, I'm not pulling my punches with this one.)

I started to feel a bit weary, this was the closest I came to letting my head go down.  I then thought Fuck it! I can have a sore mouth, stay at home and be miserable or I can have a sore mouth, be tired but happy in Skye, it doesn't matter if I can eat or not, I'll work round it.

Pauline was pleased when I said I was trying to get my head round going to Skye and I even surprised Pauline by saying I still would like to do the Half Marathon, it is very important to me, it was the first race I ran seven weeks after I had the brain haemorrhage in 2005 and again I think it's fitting the Skye Half is my first race to show I'm on the road to recovery.  Ok, a few more weeks to get over the treatment might have been better but I've never gone for the sensible option.

 I did have a lovely morning walk on Monday, the first day in six weeks without having to go to the Western for treatment.   It was arranged ages ago for Pauline and I to meet Clare Balding at Balmaha and have a wee walk out and back talking about our West Highland Way races for her radio programme Ramblings on Radio 4, but if I wasn't able to go she was happy just to do it with Pauline, I was glad I went and managed to say a few words, I was disappointed when she said it was time to turn back, I was hoping to get further, but it was lovely to stroll along the WHW for the first time is ages. I think we only walked for about four miles but probably just as well that's as far as we went, I got home around mid afternoon, I was very tired and slept until about 8.00pm!

 I've been doing a lot of sleeping, trying to gather my strength for the trip to Skye, my body is not in  good shape,  I'm not eating at all just now, my mouth is too sore and raw but I still have the feeding tube in my tummy and I've been using that for the past few days, I've got a supply of the bags of drip feed they gave me after the surgery, I never thought I'd use it but needs must, it has around 1300 calories and supplemented with prescription milkshakes and full fat milk I'm making sure I'm getting over 2000 calories a day, and these things are all fortified with protein, vitamins and minerals.  I'm not hanging it up and using the pump though, too much palaver, I'm just skooshing it in with a syringe, even that's not correct procedure, you're just meant to remove the plunger, pour the gloop in and let gravity do the job, but a bit of common sense, (I do have a little) I don't force it in with the velocity of a power hose!

The Half isn't going to be pretty or very fast, my last run was on 16th March, I'll be walking more than I'll be running but I'm an ultra runner, I know how to do tired. I'll still be pinning my number to my club vest, it will still be the best I can on the day and I'll always be proud of my best effort whatever the time on the watch even if everyone else has gone home by the time I finish... but finish I will!

Cancer and it's life changing surgery followed by six weeks of harsh and painful radio and chemotherapy  has left my body tired and sore but it never got close to my heart and soul and that is what will get me round my race.  Cancer you can fuck right off, this is the last time you will dictate to me.

Final round, I'll land the knockout blow when I cross the finish line.

Hands up, chin down.

Getting there

Pauline dropped me off early morning on Wednesday 15^th for my overnight stay in the Western, I did warn her that she might get a text to pick me up if my blood count was down and they would postpone my chemo but all was fine, I even got a "Well done!", there's been a lot of folk having to delay their treatment but I was full steam ahead. 

No different from last time, loads of fluids first, loads of peeing, and just get on with it.  I was in a room with just one other lady, Carol, she's was quite down when she came in, last time she had chemo she went home with pneumonia and ended up with a hospital stay in her local hospital in Dumfries but after speaking to the Doctor she did perk up, we hit it off and had quite a laugh, even listening to the hospital radio, the nurse laughed at us sitting in bed with our earphones in dancing to "There's a moose loose aboot this hoose!"  It was patient request evening and going by the music selection I think must have been the youngest inmate but they did play Clash of the Ash for me, so all was fine. 

I didn't sleep much, with the fluid bags getting changed through the night and having to get up to go to the loo but I wasn't worried I could catch up with sleep when I got home.  When I left Carol said one of the nicest things, besides the lovely to meet you, we've had a laugh. Her parting words were "I hope I never see you again!"  I replied the same. 

I planned a very quiet weekend, going to the Fling after my last chemo wiped me out for a bit but it was worth it, this time I think my reserves would be a bit lower so I wanted to conserve my strength.  It didn't quite go that way, my cousin contacted me to say my Uncle had had a stroke, Pauline and I went through to Kirkcaldy's Victoria to see him on Friday night, we went along to his house on Saturday afternoon to tidy up, it looked as if there had been a fight, furniture and stuff all over the place, he'd fallen in the kitchen but got himself to the living room where the phone was.  He is my Mother's brother and my Uncle so he does have the fighting genes too.  His speech is ok but his arm isn't, if you have some spare prayers and vibes could you please send them to Brian, you don't know him but you may have seen his face, I think I look like him at the end of 24 hour races.

I felt a bit guilty leaving Pauline to it on Sunday but I was tired and needed to rest, she's already done her fair share of hospital running around and visiting.  On Monday I planned to drive myself over the Western for my radiotherapy but in the morning every time I stood up I went light headed, I was a bit better after my breakfast but I didn't want to drive through, a quick text to Pauline and she'd pick me up no problem.  It was a slow day with delays and we were late back but I rested when I got home.

Tuesday I felt ok , no dizziness so I text Pauline to say I'd be fine to go myself, there are road works on Queensferry Road and it was very slow going, noticed the car temperature going up and up.  Bugger! I pulled over, stuck my hazards on, phone the hospital, they said not to worry, they'll treat me when I get there.  Phoned for a nice RAC man and waited and waited, lucky for me I don't do stress-bunny.   I eventually got to the Western and my treatment, only two hours later!  The nice RAC man said that the fan has seized and I'd get home ok as long as I didn't have to sit in traffic. 

All these things were starting to take its toll and by Wednesday my mouth had gotten very sore and I’m now taking painkillers and another mouthwash which has an anesthetic in it before I eat, I’m not eating too well, in the morning it’s taking me around an hour to get in two Weetabix and a banana, I’m heating the milk too to make it nice and soft after that I’m just having milkshakes, soup, yogurt and ice cream, it’s just too sore to attempt anything else, even a cup of tea is a chore and sore to swallow but I’m still managing to maintain my weight at the minute.  My skin on my neck and face looks sun burnt from the radiotherapy,  it’s itchy and sore where my clothes touch, in the house I’m wearing wide necked t-shirts but outside I have to keep my skin out of the sun, lucky for me I've loads of Buff Scarves.  I thought I should change my name to Rosie Redbeard but Pauline thinks I look more like Bradley Wiggins

I am pleased that I got to half way through the fifth week before things got really tough, just five more radiotherapies to go then things will start to settle down.  They are saying it can take a couple of weeks after the treatment stops before this happens and I’m now thinking that if I’m still in as much pain on the weekend of the Skye Half there is no point going,  but I’m not ruling it out until nearer the time.  If I have to miss it Pauline and I will go another weekend and I’m sure we’ll have a good time and have a run in the Quiraing instead. 

I still have other goals and stuff to look forward to and friends have been very generous and given me goals and offers I’m not going refuse. My head is up and I’m looking ahead, I will get through this.

Hands up, chin down

Over half way.

Today was my sixteenth zap of radiotherapy, fourteen to go.  On Wednesday I have a sleepover in the Western for my second and last chemo.  I’ve been feeling ok, not doing anything really, resting and some gentle pottering about the house, well, nobody dusts my Goblets but me!  Actually, nobody else ever dusts in this house!  My Goblets do look a bit stoory, but they can keep. 

I've been sitting with purpose, now that Mel has a granddaughter, I've dug out my knitting patterns, one wee pink cardi done, a white lacy matinee jacket and matching bonnet done, now I working on a lilac cardi with daisies embroidered up the front, the last time I did these it was for Erin nearly eighteen years ago.

I have deliberately been taking it easy, reserving my strength for the last haul, also I don’t want my blood count to go down, if it does, my treatment will be postponed and I don’t want that. 

Over the last couple of weeks when the doctor looked in my mouth, she could see it looked a bit raw with a couple of ulcers, the radiation causes this, and asked how many painkillers I'm taking.  I answered none, she replied that I would be soon, and when I saw the dietician she said the same.  I still haven’t felt the need to take any but I will when I feel it’s necessary.  They don’t know me or that I have honed my discomfort management skills over nine WHW’s, five 24hour races, around thirty “wee” ultras and over thirty marathons.  Also it’s not the level of pain that matters but the way you think about it.  When running you can’t expect to reach the finish without some physical grief, it’s all part of the adventure.  In 2007 my first thought when I heard that Jane Tomlinson had passed away was “pain is a luxury for the living” and when completing the luxury of a big ultra, the more pain the more alive I have felt, it is a privilege.  The discomfort from my treatment is good, it is all part of the curing process. 

At the start I compared my treatment to running a big ultra and on Friday Pauline said “That’s you coming in Tyndrum.” I totally disagreed, running the WHW isn’t easy but it is loads more fun.   This is different and I'm using all the skills I've learnt through running, like eating when you don’t feel like it.  Eating is a chore and a lot of things now have an awful metallic taste, coffee is ok but tea is only ok if I put sugar in, something I would never normally do, everything has to be soft, but I'm making sure I'm getting all the nutrition I can, if I want my body to be strong it has to be fuelled even if it takes me an hour to eat a bowl of pasta! Soup is a favourite, although I’ve always made my own, I’m also buying cartons of fresh soup for variety, is it just me but when I make a pot of soup there’s usually enough to feed the street. I'm restricted with fruit, it nips a bit, the last time I had a glass of  fresh orange juice it felt and tasted like a mouthful of barbed wire. I was told I would lose weight and it is part of the challenge to prove them wrong.

My treatment should finish on the 31^st May and I have a goal for soon after, I entered the Skye half marathon months ago and it’s on the 8^th of June, just a week after.   I might be cutting it fine but I don’t doubt my determination, I won’t be daft and if I'm not able to do it I won’t but if I can walk/jog it in around three hours or so I will.  I've been going up for it since 1993 and in 2005 it was very special, it took me around two and half hours that day, it was my 100^th half marathon and just seven weeks after I had the brain haemorrhage and hopefully this year will be just as special.

I will look after myself well for the next three weeks; Pete is doing a grand job too.  I want to get to the end in the best shape I can, I'm going for a knock-out in the final round.

Hands up, chin down.

A great day out.

I wasn't running the Fling any more but I didn’t want to miss it so after Gillian had picked up Pauline she got me at 4.00am and we were in Milngavie for 5.00am, I felt ok with not running knowing there was no way it was going to happen.  It was lovely to chat and be hugged, I wanted to wish folk well but with it being busy I didn’t get round everyone.  Pauline registered and got herself organised then it was time for the start.  This year everyone went off together in the biggest herd of ultra -runners I've seen!

Gillian and I waited and watched the start of the relay then headed off to Rowardennan, we were helping with the drop bags.  Mrs Mac was in charge and Alan and Robin had started laying out the bags, it wasn't too long before they were all laid out and more helpers arrived when runners were coming through thick and fast.

Now there is no right or wrong thing for eating in an ultra, it is very much go with what feels right for you but my jaw dropped with variety and quantity.  Fair enough, have a choice of a couple of things if  you're not sure what you might fancy but I thought some folk must have been feeding a legion! After runners had been through and finished with their bags we gathered together all unopened food and placed to the front if anyone fancied something different,  I wasn't really surprised that no fancied the pack with two giant scotch eggs, the large tub of pasta or a whole Soreen loaf!  At least The Wilderness Response Team took all the energy gels to be used later.  Rabbit the Bruce was in charge of Pauline’s drop bag, its contents, a wee Twix and a dinky can of coke.

It was great fun being there, shouting at folk and getting sweaty runner hugs, even modelling the Blizzard Jacket for the Wilderness Response Team (a brilliant bit of kit, and about the size of a couple of slices of bread when vacuum packed.)  

                                         Not sure if it was me or her drop bag Alyson was pleased to see

When there were only a handful of bags left Gillian and I went on Tyndrum for the finish.  I'm sorry I missed Robin, he had headed off to do a bit of support but before he left he gave Julie a wee present to pass on to me, a wee pair of pink boxing gloves, Lee fastened them to the zip on my jacket, they're still there and I think a perfect place to keep them. Thank you Robin. x  (I heard you had a great day too, kissing all the girls at Crainlarich!) 

We began helping Ellen hand out medals, what a view looking down that finishing straight.  Watching and encouraging everyone reach their goal, some looked very painful, some were sprinting, some were an infectious emotional achievement, other's I shouted at to stroll faster! 

Discussing my treatment with Ellen, I wasn't sure I should be hugging and kissing everyone with my immune system being a bit suppressed, but we're family and what a boost I got from all the "Glad to see you out and about!" and "You're looking well."  If I'm a tower of strength it's because you guys are the mortar between the bricks. 

Eventually I think Ellen took pity on Pauline and Gillian standing waiting for me, and I eventually listened when she said “Right you, you've done more than enough, time to go home."  I'd had a brilliant day, I felt ok and I didn't want it to end, so we said out goodbyes and was walking away when Ellen called us back, they were just going to do the prize giving and Pauline got 3rd old dear, Mel got 3rd not so old dear so a wee bonus before we headed home.

I planned a lazy Sunday and had a bit of a lie in but as the day wore on I got even more tired and kept falling asleep watching the telly, I was totally wiped out and on Monday and Tuesday, I asked Pauline to drive me to the Western both days, I felt fine to drive myself on Wednesday, but I still feel tired but it was worth it, thank you all for making my day.

That's nearly the second week of radiotherapy done, my mouth is getting sore and food is starting to taste funny but almost a third done. I do feel more tired than I thought I would at this stage of my treatment, but I’ll just go with the flow and not force anything, this is a six week ultra and one thing I'm good at is my pace judgement, it is going to get a lot tougher but I'm focussed on the finish.  Hands up, chin down.

Slow and steady...

For the  fortnight before I started round two of my treatment I quietly just got on with gathering my strength and getting used to my mouth being a bit different. I can now eat most things albeit slowly, I forgot to mention in my previous posts that when they operated they also had to split my jaw bone for access (it's now got a wee titanium bolt holding it back together) which meant they also removed my bottom front teeth,  so biting into stuff is a bit difficult, luckily with my remaining nine teeth I have one canine tooth and one premolar that still have their opposite numbers meeting them on the left side, which is also the side with a proper bit of tongue which I think helps.  Yaaay, four teeth that work!  Hopefully the couple I've been left with on the right side will help anchor new gnashers when I'm finished treatment and my mouth settles down.   I haven't tried peanuts yet or a nice crunchy salad, I think I'll expend more energy trying to chew that lot than what I'll gain from it!  I didn't lose too much weight when I was in hospital but I'm now back to my fighting weight plus a couple of pounds in store.

I've had a few appointments at Edinburgh's Western General  for CT scans, getting prepared for my treatment and a couple of appointments at my GP's surgery having the dressing changed on the skin graft on my wrist, it's healing nicely but slowly.  Oops, I was out when the dietician came for a home visit, not all my fault, she said she'd come after lunch but arrived at five past twelve, I was home by quarter past.  She came back on Tuesday and is happy with my progress. 

Last Friday was a cracking sunny day and there was nowhere I had to be and with the thought that the next six weeks my routine will be every morning, Monday to Friday, I'll be over to the Western for radiotherapy.  I wasn't wasting the day stuck inside so took myself to the Craigmead car park between East and West Lomond and headed up West Lomond, there were quite a few folk about, not surprising with it being so sunny, there was a big group snaking up the steep path, I was disappointed I wasn't going to get the top to myself, then I frowned at myself for being selfish, it was a group of kids with a couple of adults and nice to see them  enjoying being outside and not spending the last day of their holidays sat in front of the telly with a games console.  On the way back down my legs felt lovely and bouncy and I tried a wee jog only for around a minute, I could feel my jaw jarring a bit so stopped, it was only just over a month since the surgery but it was nice to try.  I'm not going to be daft, my body is using it's resources for recovery and repair and I won't do anything to hinder that but my body isn't used to being a couch potato either so when I got back to the car park I felt fine and wasn't ready to stop so headed up East Lomond , I was out for just short of three hours and it's around eight miles for both hills.  

I've been taking myself over to the Western for my radiotherapy, my appointment time is for 11.00am,so the Bridge isn't busy but I've been leaving in plenty time and getting there early and on both Monday and Tuesday I was in and out before 11.00am, once in position it only takes about ten minutes to be zapped.  Last night I had an overnight stay in the Western for my first skoosh of chemo, except it more like drip.....drip.....drip.....drip..... it took ages.

Pauline took me over for 9.30am.  After the doctor check me over her final words after I told her I'd been up the Lomonds  were "I wish all my patients were as active as you."  (So wheesht you lot that say I should just sit on my bakooky, I'm doing it now, see, a nice balance!)  A cannula was stuck into the back of my hand, then I was send along for my radiotherapy and after I was back I was hooked up to a big bag of fluids just to make sure I was well hydrated, I was drinking plenty too, my urine was to be monitored, I thought they would just want a small sample but no they wanted it all.  So being a girly type I had to place a grey cardboard pan on the pan then pee, I'm not sure about the quality but the quantity reached gold medal standard, twice I thought I was gonna make a waterfall before I stopped!  I pitied the poor nurse that had to carry the sample to be tested, actually no I didn't I just smiled and let her know I'd been.  

The fluids took four hours to go through then a wee bag of steroids then the toxic stuff, now jeezy-peeps it  must be dangerous, the bag was in another bag and the nurse had protective gloves on to hook it up and then she let it drip into me!  (I was also told that when changing the dressing on the skin graft if it is still has weepy bits to bag it twice before disposing it as it would be contaminated!)  The chemo dripped through over another six hours I was asked regularly if I was feeling ok, (I was) then another big bag of fluids which eventually finished around 4.00am.  After the chemo I was told I didn't have to pee any more I hope she just meant in the cardboard potty!  I have never had to get up so often through the night so I didn't sleep too well, this morning I woke feeling like I'd had a late night with a few glasses of wine, not quite hung over but neither bright eyed and bushy tailed, after breakfast and coffee I felt fine if just a bit tired.  I was home by noon after another zap of radiotherapy.  I didn't laze about when I got home I went for the big Tesco shop but I made Pete come with me and I was fine, even walking round Tesco keeps the blood circulating!

Tomorrow I'll take it easy after the last zap of the week, since I'll getting picked up at 4.00am Saturday morning.  I'm not running the Highland Fling any more but Pauline is and Gillian is driving and I'm coming for the fun and to help.  I'll be on duty at Rowardennan, not sure what my job will be but I'll be wearing these babies and they need broken in!  If I hear whimpering...

(Sarah, Andrea says this is your first ultra, you have picked a cracker to start with, you'll be fine, relax, run easy and enjoy.  Hope to see you go through Rowardennan smiling) 

Round Two

I was at the Western General this morning for the pathology results and I am to have radio and chemotherapy, as I said earlier I was prepared for this result.

Okay doky, I now know what’s ahead, that’s been the hard bits really, the unknown from the very beginning on my first appointment. The word ‘may’ appeared as in “This may be sinister.”  To “You ‘may’ need further treatment.” Well, now I can face it head on. It will take six weeks starting on 22^nd April, I’ll have radiotherapy Monday to Friday with the weekends off and for the chemo, one hit on my first day of the radiotherapy with a single night staying in the Western so they can monitor my kidneys and bloods.  It shouldn’t be until around the third week when they hit me with the second and final blast of chemo that I’ll start to feel a bit rough, my mouth will get sore and my neck will feel like it’s sunburnt but that won’t be permanent and there’s a few other minor side effects .  The one thing I’m not liking the sound of is that I’ll end up with a dry mouth and that will be permanent, but keeping a bottle of water on hand definitely beats the alternative!

So the Fling will be around the early part of my treatment, and as long as I feel ok I’ll come up to cheer everyone on, but I’ll be a DNS for the WHW. That is the hard thing to get my head round, but next year will be all the sweeter when I slap my hands on the Leisure Centre’s doors.

I've still got the best support crew in my corner…seconds out…round two...ding ding.

.

Hands up, chin down. COME ON!