Oh I know I'm an absolute HORROR, forever turning up around pay day rattling a tin for Macmillan. I know you're all bored of this debacle, but no more bored than I get around mile 11 when I'm goosed and wishing I was in a boozer instead of pegging it uphill in blazing heat.

Over the last 6 years you guys have helped raise a whopping £11,610 for Macmillan, who as you know helped my dad and my family during his final days when he lost the battle with the Big C back in 2002. The money raised will help Macmillan continue with the fantastic work they do and will make sure that no one faces cancer alone. I am on the scrounge for a pound from at least one of you, because every penny counts.

Just £10 could keep five typical Macmillan information and support centres stocked with all the information resources they need to support people affected by cancer for an hour.

£19 could pay for a Macmillan benefits adviser to work in a Citizens Advice Bureau for an hour, where they would advise people with cancer, their families and carers so they can access benefits and other kinds of financial support they are entitled to.

£28 could pay for a Macmillan nurse for an hour, helping people living with cancer and their families receive essential medical, practical and emotional support.

£50 could pay for a Macmillan Grant that buys someone with cancer a microwave, making it easier for them to prepare food.

If tugging on your heart strings hasn't worked, I have compiled a list of reasons to convince you even further.

1) Great North hurts. Fact. If I was put on earth to run I would have been born either a Cheetah or Mo Farah.
2) The time it'll take me to get from Newcastle to South Sheilds is almost the same amount of time it takes to get the train from London to Liverpool. That's a long time.
3) Have you any idea how hard it is to keep a Scouse Brow intact over 13.1 miles?
4) I am a terrible runner. So bad that 3 PT's have tried to teach me and I'm still crap at putting one foot in front of the other.

You will not receive anything in exchange for your donation except perhaps a photo of me being overtaken by a pensioner dressed as a papier mache daffodil (true story) and my eternal gratitude.

So on Sunday 10th September, on which would have been his birthday, I’ll be doing my 7th Great North Run in memory of my favourite man in the universe, my lovely dad Pat Whelan, remembering all the ones we’ve lost to cancer along the way, and those of you who have shown it who’s boss.

Peace, love and light x