It’s a privilege…              

I have quickly come to realise that turning 60   is nothing to worry about, in fact it’s a privilege that isn’t afforded to everyone. It is particularly true in my family as neither my mum nor my little brother were given the opportunity to moan about getting old. Their lives were cut short well before they had a chance to be sixty so we have to live the best lives we can for as long as we can and just see what happens.

When I hit 50 me and my long time Judo buddy John Leahy ran the Berlin marathon. A great trip to Berlin and to be fair a really enjoyable experience finishing by passing under the Brandenburg Gate. I remember crossing the line having pushed like mad for the last half mile. I looked up at the same time as a young German woman did, we both burst out crying and gave each other a hug. Twenty seconds of emotion before saying well done to each other and heading off to celebrate. It is amazing how the effort involved in an endurance event plays into your mind and emotions. A mixture of exhaustion and achievement. There is also something really humbling about seeing the sheer effort and sometimes distress that people are prepared to go through in completing these challenges in memory of someone they have loved and lost. Saying nothing about the messages and photos that cover their running tops. Berlin certainly wasn’t my first marathon but until now, it had been my last.

This time, a decade on, I’m planning on completing a different marathon. Same distance, 26.2 miles, but a different terrain and a different type of challenge. Joined by the professional navigation team of John Lancaster and Mike Kelly, we are going to complete the Yorkshire Dales Hiking Marathon in aid of the MacMillan Cancer Relief charity. Over the past year I have started to enjoy walking up big hills and thanks to John I have even started to tick off my own list of Wainwright’s summits. Until last September that wouldn’t have meant anything to me but now I look forward to spending time pushing myself up the mountains of the Lake District on a Wednesday when I’m off work. Seeing the Mighty Hike series it seemed to me to be a great fit between the marathon and the new hobby of hiking. So that’s the plan.

When you see how much people at these events are prepared to go through, it always feels to me to be selfish to just take part without a cause or a focus. It feels like you shouldn’t be there.  The first time I finished the Great North Run I remember feeling embarrassed about celebrating as I had just done it just for me. It was just an event I had wanted to do. So I decided to do the marathon hike in memory of our mum. She’s been gone a long time but that changes nothing. Mum remains an important part of our lives and the people that we have become.

Mum died from the complications of bowel cancer at a full 52 years young and the impact of her loss has affected our family ever since. I always think of that photo in the charity’s adverts where they airbrush out people who have died. It’s harsh but a fair reflection that a piece is missing. The subtle things, the changes in relationships, that happen after someone is lost to us that are increasingly hard to plot and explain. Increasingly difficult to know what would have been different if they had stayed with us for longer. Loss changes us. It adds to our experiences and alters our outlook. Loss is something none of us want to experience but it is something we can’t avoid when it comes along. I’m sure that many people who read this short intro will understand the comments I’m making. 

Cancer is a major killer in the UK and most alarmingly, according to Cancer Research UK there are over 375,000 new cases diagnosed every year. That’s 1,000 people per day being told they have cancer. One person every 2 minutes. In my previous life I have had the privilege of being the CEO at the Clatterbridge Cancer Centre NHS Foundation Trust. Working with some of the best and most dedicated people who focus purely on dealing with cancer and the consequences of it. One thing that really becomes clear, is that for many people the diagnosis of cancer becomes a journey dealing with a chronic illness. 50% of people diagnosed with cancer go on to survive for 10 years or more. That doesn’t necessarily mean without treatment or cancer free, but that statistic is more than double what it was 40 years ago. Having seen first hand the way the development of new treatments, medicines and multidisciplinary pathways have been accelerating and the impact is clearly changing the outcomes for many people. I’m convinced that if mum was here now, her chances of living longer than the six weeks after her diagnosis would be significantly better. We had no complaints about the care she received at the time but today it wouldn’t have been acceptable. Diagnostics, specialisation, cancer pathways and new treatments have changed massively. 

I have supported a number of charities over the years but I’m always very careful to make sure that I understand how they work and how the support I give will impact. People give charitable donations in order to do good but as time teaches us that doesn’t always work out the way we expect. So I’m someone who looks carefully at what the donation is going to be used for. As a Samaritans listening volunteer I witness first hand the impact of their work on every shift. The service makes a difference and although there is a significant central overhead, the vast majority of the service is delivered and organised by highly skilled and trained volunteers. 

In my 33 years working in the NHS I was always massively impressed by the way that MacMillan Cancer Relief impacted on the services supporting people with cancer in so many different ways. The MacMillan brand in cancer care is very much respected and rightly so. Cancer care and treatment moves forward on several fronts but MacMillan holds the ground of offering the highest level of care and compassion. It is a charity where I’m convinced that donations are put to good and consistent use. 

I have never actually taken part in an event in memory of mum until now. I have no idea why but at 60 years young and having lost Dave in the last year it just feels right to make the link. Her loss changed our lives. It became part of us. There are positives and negatives to that but by far the most positive outcome has been the closeness that we have enjoyed as a family and until this year, the way we have dealt with things together, the three of us. When mum died I felt short changed at losing her so young and most importantly, she must have known and we didn’t talk about it. She must have thought about having to leave us, especially her baby, Dave, who was just 15 at the time. That day changed our lives. It altered our outlook. It physically changed our routines and interactions. It altered the DNA of us as a family, the glue that bonds us together.

So this one is for our mum, Agnes Halsall and the loss that we have endured. How much she missed and how much we’ve missed her.