After successfully completing the Belfast Half Marathon in September this year and previously running three other half marathons covering all countries in the UK as well as the London Marathon, I will end my running days in a fun way by completing the Santa Run in Shropshire on December 4. My wife and little boy will also join me on the day.

You may know me as loud, very enthusiastic and probably sometimes a little annoying. But there is also a very different side – one that was created when I was diagnosed with cancer in December 2013. There is no other way to describe that experience than living in a horror movie which started with my diagnosis and ended with a major operation. But just as the end credits were rolling, came sequel after sequel after sequel as I continue to come to terms with the experience.

The best way I can describe it is that cancer drags me out and gives me one hell of a whipping. Up until more recently the wounds were so red raw and the beatings so severe that I was writhing in emotional agony. But as time has gone on the beatings have become less frequent but they can happen when I least expect it – those moment when suddenly everything dawns on you.That can be while I’m driving to work and then I think here cancer comes to drag be out for another onslaught.

Of course some of those lashes have been selfish ones like why has this happened to me, will it ever come back and what if it kills me? But on the whole they have been more about coming to terms with the mental trauma of having the disease – with the hardest most painful ones coming while thinking about the people I met and affected along the journey.

Yes some scars will heal but for me, and thankfully, because of my positive nature, they generally scab over quite quickly. But some memories of these people will forever open wounds. 

Two people in particular. One who I became friendly with as our chemotherapy cycles coincided who on my last few days in hospital told me he had just been given the news that he had six months to live. For perhaps one of the few times in life I was lost for words and when it came to leaving the hospital I didn’t know how to say goodbye.

The other person was a 19-year-old. I knew he was terminally ill the moment I met him. He was exceptionally brave and if I’m ever half the man he was then I’ll count myself to be doing ok. I’ll always remember shaking his hand the last time I saw him. He had hardly any strength left but he still had it in him to look me straight in the eyes and sincerely wish me the best of luck for a speedy recovery. Heartbreaking doesn’t really adequately describe the emotions I felt.

Along with these memories, I’m also dealing with the living in fear factor – particularly while going for ongoing tests. It’s sometimes hard enough to deal with these emotions myself so imagine the impact it’s had on my family and friends. I would like to make special mention of my wife, Clare. She has just been incredible. No words can describe how much I love her for being there every step of the way and for putting up with a man who was throughout treatment and still is upon occasion a shadow of his former self.

Some of my colleagues have also been amazing in particular David Symons who will probably never truly appreciate how our chats have helped give me strength during difficult times.

I could go on but I won’t. Instead I want to use all of this to make some kind of difference. I know it may sound a bit of a cliché but now is the time to do something positive. One of the most positive things that came out of cancer was realising how great hospital staff are. They were just amazing and the work they do with the help of the Teenage Cancer Trust was incredibly inspiring. I spent some time in the younger people’s ward simply because there were not enough beds and there is a massive effort to make the experience as positive as possible for young people.

So in recognition of this I’m going to raise some cash for the Teenage Cancer Trust by running the Half Marathon in Belfast next September. After reading this you may think I want you to take pity on me. I really don’t. I just wanted to find a way to maybe encourage you to dip your hand into your pocket and donate a few quid.

It really is not about me. However much is raised will do just a little bit to help someone else. And in this case young, vulnerable people who shouldn’t have to go through any of this.

Help me spread a sprinkle of happiness.