THE clock says 11:59:59 as I fall through the train door onto the 12:00 to Aviemore from Kings Cross. That was close.

I never give up but as I made my way to catch my train I thought time was about to run out on me. Thankfully I made it and I am off on this first adventure since surgery.

I’m heading back to Scotland this weekend for the first time in a year.

After a difficult weekend trying to absorb my oncology meetings and the chances that radiology doesn’t work, I need this break away.

I need to breathe some fresh air. Little did I know that an untimely bout of the flu would mean that my trip back home didn’t pan out exactly the way I hoped it would.

Trying not to think of tumours is like telling people not to think about the pink elephant. It’s all you can think about.

So back at the start of the week, I figured the best way to get this stuff out my head is to get back in the pool and start my swimming again. At least I can swallow and breathe better. now

The best way to bring your focus into the moment is through mindful breathing and swimming is perfect for this as for me. It’s like a form of meditation that lets my mind only focus on breathing and my technique, perfect to escape the land of oncology.

Mind you, I was pretty nervous getting back in the pool after a seven month break. I guess it should be like riding a bike, muscle memory should kick in.

So after the faff of getting changed I dragged myself through to the pool. I thought ‘lets start in the slow lane and see what happens’.

But after a few lengths I thought okay, medium lane is where I will spend today. It was a busy day in the pool and it’s funny as I was moving faster than most of the guys in the fast lane.

I remember thinking, ‘dude I am passing you in the medium lane, with one arm and one leg’. Maybe you should be in the slow lane. It’s funny how much our ego influences our choice of swim lane.

But anyway, after 1000m I stop and think that’s a good starting point, it’s time to hit the gym.

I learned to swim as a child but had to re-teach myself on how to do it with the one arm in 2017.

Thankfully YouTube proved the perfect self coaching tool. And while I am no Duncan Scott but I love the feeling of gliding through the water with nothing on my mind apart from my breathing.

I set a goal of swimming the iron man distance to see if I could get under the cut-off time. This weeks 1000m is a long way off where I was but like any goal we have, the hardest thing is starting.

The pool gives me a boost. As I sit on the train to Aviemore I think I almost feel like an athlete again.

I ponder on the thought of cycling up the ski road and how great that would feel. To cycle up and touch the snow. In fact, I almost brought my wetsuit to go open water swimming till I looked at the weather, and the fresh snow on the hills.

I am a bit softer now after six operations to the cold and as incredible as it would be swimming in Loch Morlich I am not sure my body could handle it.

Having managed to survive radiotherapy and my train journey, it was a bit of a curve ball that I woke up yesterday morning coughing and spluttering. I had such an active weekend planned, getting out in the fresh air, picking up a new bike and going on a cycle up the Cairngorms. Instead I am taking First Defence, swallowing hot water, lemons and ginger while sat in my pyjamas, trying not to feel sorry myself.

It is pouring down - grey, horrible and not very inviting. But I would have gone out if I hadn’t have felt like this. My mate, who is getting married this weekend, came round. He said there was a seat at the wedding for you if you can make it, but don’t worry about it. I can’t risk it, because my immune system is so low from radiotherapy.

I’ve got plenty of home made soup here, but it is just frustrating, because I’ve got to cycle round Mount Geneva in a month’s time. The last few weeks I have managed to nine hour weeks in London, and I thought it would be so amazing to come up here and ride. If I wake up on Sunday and I feel fine, I will go up the Cairngorms then.

I wonder how much of it is when you go on holiday and on that first day you get ill. It is peaceful, quiet and you relax a little. I was shaking a lot of hands last week at a friend’s 50th birthday party.

Team Sky have a fist bump-only policy. I tried to do that for a few people last week, and they just looked at me as if I was mad. You don’t want to offend people either.

Anyway I guess that if I am going to be ill, I might as well be ill here. It is nice, I can sleep, there is no police sounds, no one screaming. I could actually hear my own pulse when I went to sleep. I haven’t heard that for a while, I thought.