Annus horribilis.

Next week I'll be having my final dose of chemo and the PICC line will be removed from my arm. It feels like the battle is all but won. Cyril is face down on the canvas and I'm starting to believe, more and more, that he's not getting back up.

I've gradually been getting back into running and have a couple of races planned. I'm hoping I'll get the OK to take up contact sports again soon and it would be great if I could start getting back into MMA. I've even been thinking about returning to work, although I'm conscious of going back too soon. 

We went away to Wales last week and had some quality time with the kids. They absolutely loved it and we visited some stunning places. The weather wasn't great but we made the most of it. 

We got back on Saturday and I was so tired I slept for 13 hours! All the driving, walking and early starts with my Daughter had clearly taken its toll. But I'm grateful for every minute I have with her, especially after the start to 2025 we've both had.

Since I've been back home I've been busy sorting stuff out with my Mum's Estate and getting back into the usual routine.  My thoughts have turned to next week and the finish line. I would have loved my Mum to be there and see me ring the bell to signal the end of my treatment. In some way, I suppose, she will be.