The Inside Lane

The end of a calendar year presents an opportunity to reflect and look ahead. 2025 has been a challenging one, to say the least. Events have tested me to my absolute limits; being diagnosed with leukemia, the horrible side effects of chemotherapy, losing my Mum during treatment, facing a first Christmas without both parents. Hemingway wrote: "The hardest lesson I've had to learn as an adult is the relentless need to keep going no matter how shattered I feel inside." But we do keep going. We keep going in the hope the sun will shine on us once again. And it has. As we approach 2026 my cancer is in remission. I'm back at work, almost fully operational. I have a wonderful, supportive partner, a beautiful Daughter, incredible friends and family. I'm battling back to full fitness. In the second half of the year I managed a fell race, 3 trail races, 3 cross country races and a road race. I completed my 25th Park Run, achieved my second best half marathon time and my thi...

The 10 km road race on Sunday was tough. I'd set myself the target of finishing in under 45 minutes. In my impatient mind, that would represent a return to the base level of fitness I had before my illness. To give me an added incentive, I would be running for MacMillan Cancer Support. Sometimes I forget what I've been through this year. Life is short and I'm eager to pick up where I left off, but you occasionally get a reminder that you need to pace yourself.  I set off ludicrously fast. I knew the course had about 3 miles of net downhill, before steadily climbing back up. A negative split would be perfect. I ran my first mile in 6:37 and my second in 6:48. I had absolutely no business being among the top 50 runners and, after a 7:14 third mile, I continued to fade.  I should have been satisfied with my sub 45 target and planned accordingly. The problem is, runners start getting crazy ideas in their heads when races are involved. Or maybe it's just me. Maybe, just mayb...

With two races in a week coming up, breaking my toe at BJJ on Monday was not on the agenda. I'm not sure if weaker bones are a side effect of the chemotherapy, or it's just bad luck. Not content with breaking my finger a few months ago, I've now added a little toe to the list. Before APML, I'd never broken a bone in my life. This particular injury came about during a kosoto gake sweep. I believe that's what it's called, my Japanese is about as good as my jiu-jitsu. My opponent landed with their full weight on my foot. At first I thought I'd injured my knee. I hobbled around a bit before carrying on with some sparring. The next day my foot was black and blue. I visited the ironically named walk-in centre and confirmed the break on Thursday. The same day, I ordered a spin bike and, after setting it up yesterday, I became a Zwifty. My plan is train on the bike to keep my fitness ticking over while my foot heals. I've not yet fully committed to becoming a ...

As I dragged myself through a muddy and undulating 6 mile cross country course last week, it occurred to me that running is often an excellent metaphor for life. There were times, although fleeting, when everything felt easy. There were times when it was a real struggle and the doubts would creep in. Sometimes you just have to hang in there and keep going. Agatha Christie once wrote: "I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing." I finished the race somewhere among the top half of the pack. The finishing times ranged from an absurd 35 minutes in first place to 93 minutes in last place. I'm still interested in my times and trying to better myself, but it's become less important than the ritual of participation. Anyone can not do something. Runners know they have achieved something just by taking part. The absolute legend who took ...