I’m supporting Sarcoma UK, a national charity that funds vital research, offers support for anyone affected by sarcoma cancer, and campaigns for better treatments. Sarcoma is a type of cancer that develops in the bone and soft tissue. It is difficult to diagnose and one of the hardest to treat.

My Sarcoma Story... After living with (ignoring) a pain in my leg for about 18 months, that wouldn't go away no matter how much I rested, massaged, or rehabbed it, I eventually admitted to myself that something must be wrong, and I needed to get it checked out. After a stack of inconclusive ultrasounds and MRIs, it was thought to be a blood clot, which would need an excision biopsy. In my head, this wasn't too bad. Sure, I'd be off my feet for a couple of weeks, but I didn't think much more of it - cut the clot out, and crack on was my blissfully unaware thought process.

That was until I got the call to come in early for my results, which filled me with utter, utter dread. Everybody including myself tried their best to convince me that "it'll be alright", and "I'm sure it's nothing to worry about" but on Monday, 27th March last year, I was told I had a sarcoma. To which I stared blankly at the nurse and consultant, not knowing what this new word in my life was or meant. It was only once the 'C bomb' was dropped that things hit home.

At that point, just like in films when an explosion goes off: I was shellshocked. My head was ringing, my ears were muffled, and I just stared into nothingness while my brain fought to comprehend what the hell just happened.

It turns out I had a synovial sarcoma, a rare form of soft tissue cancer, deep in the muscle belly of my right calf (insert more expletives and disbelief).

Once the tears had stopped falling down my face, I was swiftly popped into a CT scanner to make sure it hadn't spread to my lungs (apparently synovial sarcomas like to do that), to everyone's relief, it hadn't, although there was a questionable nodule, which would need monitoring.

A second, much wider surgery was already planned for the following week to scoop out (non-medical term) any surrounding tissue and muscle that could have been infected with cancer's creepy tentacles.

Since then, it's been a bonkers rollercoaster of emotions: appointments, scans, infections, more scans, secondary and tertiary scares, sleepless nights, worry, self-doubt, counselling, and relief. The highs and lows of cancer are truly something else, and something I hope fewer people will have to experience in the future through raising funds and awareness of rare types of cancer.

I am one of the lucky ones though, they managed to catch my Sarcoma incredibly early and while it's probably not the cleverest idea of mine to try running 26.2 miles after major surgery, with less muscle in my leg (it's in a bin somewhere), and a general feeling of wonkiness. It's something I need to do, to prove to myself that cancer isn't going to beat me, and if I have to crawl across the finish line in April, I'm getting there!

I'm eternally grateful to the amazing team at the Montgomery Unit at the Robert Jones & Agnus Hunt Hospital, you're all amazing humans! To my wife Jo who has been there at every step to support me, console me, and pick me up off the floor and dust me off countless times. To my friends and family who have kept me going and smiling throughout the craziest year of my life.

Thanks for your support, it means the flipping world to me!