In January 2016 I came to the realisation that various bits of me didn’t quite look or function like they used to.  Some self-diagnosis on Google led me to discover that I had somehow become ‘Middle Aged’.  Imagine my amazement when further research led me to discover that the most commonly prescribed treatment for this condition is a brutal regime of medication known as ‘Exercise’.  I decided to start running.  2016 has passed by in a haze of training, racing, thinking about joining a running club, training, racing, joining a running club, training and racing.  During this time I have rediscovered the pleasure of running and benefits that it brings to every part of my life.  And for my next challenge I have decided to run the Greater Manchester Marathon.  That’s my bit.

This is our bit.  Every one of us have been, or will be, affected by cancer in some way.  My Dad was a keen mountaineer and hillwalker, and he led a fit and active lifestyle for these hobbies.  Cancer didn't care.  He was stolen aged 67.  In September I lost a dear friend and colleague to pancreatic cancer - Richard Holden.  Rich was one of the kindest and most genuine people that I have had the pleasure to know.  But cancer didn't care.  And I was shocked to learn that while survival rates for most cancers have gone up in the last forty years, they remain unchanged for this particular illness - just 3% of people diagnosed with pancreatic cancer will survive for five years.  Cancer doesn't care, so we have to.

I have decided to raise money for Pancreatic Cancer Research Fund, the charity choice of Richard's family.  Please join me on this journey.  Because cancer doesn't care.

Thank you.

Dickie.

Filling  the unforgiving minute...