THE mask is on and the final clamp is buckled down. I am held tightly in place, ready for the True beam to deliver its beam of radiation. You hear the radiology team leaving the room then lie there, waiting for something to happen.

Will you feel it? Will it make a noise? I lie there waiting in anticipation then before I know it there is someone next to me, taking my mask off again.

That’s you done for the day, David’ ‘That’s it? I ask. I’m not sure what I was expecting but this wasn’t so bad. In fact it gave me time to meditate and just stop time for a bit. It felt no different to laying in a dark room with just your thoughts in your mind.

The hardest part each day has been the walk along the corridor to get to the last seats outside the machine. After I arrive at hospital I jump in the lift and go down to the basement. There is a set of doors with a sign saying ‘do not leave open: radiation’. The reception staff are so friendly it puts you at ease, but I am sat waiting in the main reception looking around the room thinking ‘God, all these people have cancer’. Then my radiologist calls my name and I move faster than Usain Bolt across the room.

Then it’s this long corridor. I pass a poor lady who looks like she is been sick, lots of people in different rooms, sitting waiting for their treatments. It’s a heart wrenching moment to see humanity at its lowest point. I keep smiling and saying hello to people.

The last four seats outside the true beam are waiting for me. I am like the new boy at school, on my first day. I am nervous but also excited, which might sound crazy. Who gets excited about going for radiation? Or - as I now call it - getting zapped?

It was weird, even as my first day approached I had completely forgotten about radiotherapy. I had speaking to my mate Ewan McCarthy on the phone, my pal from Aviemore who I do all my training with. We were just chatting on the phone and he said ‘so it all kicks off on Monday’. I said ‘what kicks off on Monday?’ When he reminded me about the radiotherapy, I said ‘Jesus, so it does’.

I think that is very healthy. I had got to wrapped up in my bike, my rehab and everything else that I had completely forgotten about it. I only remembered at the last minute that I needed to phone them to find out what time I was to come in.

Even at the gym, somebody had asked me about it. They had said you are going to be really tired, you are going to be this or that. But I would only say to them something like I COULD be tired, or I MIGHT be tired. This guy had had radiotherapy in the past. I guess as humans we all write our stories in our own head. But let’s not write the story yet, I thought.

Well, that’s the first week down now and the radiation team are like a family, always smiling and making this process as easy as it can be. Was I tired after all? Well, the fatigue has hit me and I have spent more time asleep this week than normal. But it is giving me time to train my brain – even if I didn’t have the energy to train my body.

There are two states psychologists talk about when we go into any situation. You can either see it as a threat or a challenge, if we perceive it as a threat we move into what’s known as fight, flight or freeze, not the best mindset to be in as it can leave you feeling very anxious. If we perceive it as a challenge and an opportunity, then this has a much more positive hormonal effect on our bodies and we can stay in control of our mind. My goal is for me to control my subconscious - not let it control me through this process.

Sport teaches you this, so as soon as I walk into hospital I go into flow. I savour the moment and bring my attention fully into the present.

This beam is saving my life. It is an opportunity for me to never need another surgery again. For the tumour to die.

Everybody’s path is different and the reality some people will not survive, that’s the hardest part of this journey. So not everyone will see it as an opportunity. I am very lucky and each day I write in my gratitude journal how lucky I am.

After a week of being zapped, it is time for the welcome break of the weekend. Hopefully I can get on my bike and to the gym to feel human for just two days. Then it’s back to my good friend who is saving my life, the True beam radiation machine.