I was encouraged to share my experiences and seem to have a similar approach as ‘Glen’s Story’ which I read before penning this.

My only history in this field was that my father died a year younger (58) than I was when I had my ‘medical hiccup’ as I like to refer to it as.

Exactly what happened on May 1^st 2019 is still open to speculation, because I have a complicated history of injuries.  This has left me with a metal pin holding the left side of my jaw together, and thus (as it was inserted in 1985 and there are no records of what material the pin is) I am unable to have Magnetic resonance imaging (MRI) scans to gauge the exact extent or cause of the brain damage.

In the wake of my dad who, unknown to anyone at the time had high blood pressure and subsequently had a major brain haemorrhage (which took his life very painfully and quickly when I was only 20), we have always kept tabs on my blood pressure.

However, it had never caused concern until last Spring when, whilst at work, I was conscious that I was salivating a lot and seemed not to be saying my words clearly.  I then dropped several things from my left hand without realising that I had – until they hit the floor.

When I got home my 14-year old son said “Dad – you’re not speaking properly” and, looking in the mirror, we noticed the left-hand side of my mouth had dropped.  Michael encouraged me to call an ambulance and the paramedic immediately took my blood pressure (175/125) and said: “We must get you to hospital ASAP to get that blood pressure down!”  The next bit is almost comical if it wasn’t so potentially serious as they rushed me to Calderdale Hospital in Halifax, where I then sat in casualty and in a waiting booth for the next SIX hours, while they did tests and left me waiting, while not giving me so much as an aspirin, to get this apparently seriously high blood pressure down.  At nearly midnight they confirmed they wanted to keep me in and, having been allocated a bed on the stroke ward, finally offered me some blood-thinning tablets!

The next two days were extremely worrying and uncertain as, now having trouble controlling my hand (especially writing) properly and speaking clearly, I was left to look around at other stroke survivors on the ward, who were mostly much worse than I was, yet uncertain about what problems I might be left with?

Eventually, after notably wonderful hospital catering and several interviews with therapists, etc., I was ‘released’ home to battle my way back to normality…AND THAT WAS ALWAYS MY GOAL…  I never even thought (or let myself think) of any other outcome.

I’ve always been involved in various sports and latterly, as a runner, had been fortunate enough to win the European Veterans Athletics Championships over 800m in 2014.  About to move up an age group (they change every five years) I had always pencilled in trying to win back the title when I hit 60 in August this year.  But that was the last thing on my mind when I came out of hospital, although I was keen to get outside into the fresh air as soon as possible and, despite it pouring with rain, went out for a gentle ride on my bicycle, the first evening I was home.  I was no Chris Hoy but it was a start.  Running took a bit longer and came a firm second to exercising my hand and mouth through squeezy balls and a basic five-year old’s speech therapy course – “Peter Piper picked a piece of pickled….etc.”

I am a self employed sports journalist and part-time electrical engineer so was even trying to do basic things and keep things going while I was in hospital and, again I was prepared to back off but never considered not being able to do anything I’d done in the past at some stage in the future.

I started running gently and with a relaxed mind and did a few track races, just as test events, without finishing and troubling the timekeepers, just to satisfy myself as to where I was at.  Strangely, although my legs were thankfully and apparently unaffected, the brain seemed to prevent them going quickly for several months.  I’d do 200m efforts with a friend, who is a sprinter, and he’d be 50m ahead after 100m but then still only 50m ahead at the finish.  Even steady walks left me really tired for no obvious reason.

And my memory (never very good) was awful!  I’d see people I’ve known for 25 years and could remember maybe their surname, their wife’s name, what they did, who they were….. but couldn’t remember their first name!?  It was annoying and very frustrating and, I must admit, still hasn’t fully rectified itself.

But generally, I’ve been lucky (albeit determined to be lucky as I still take ten minutes out to exercise mouth and hand whenever I get doubts of reverting to where I was).  I eventually entered this year’s European Masters (old blokes) Championships in Italy and spent almost six weeks, two hours a day, whatever the weather, training really hard on a local industrial estate, building up the acceleration and speed and, being alone, using it as a mental therapy session as well – convincing myself that I could do this and if I couldn’t I was giving it everything I could.  I finally went to Jesolo, near Venice, in September.

To cut a long story short – the biggest handicap I faced come race-day was a torn quad muscle, which was very painful, but I could warm-up through the pain and fortunately run fairly normally once I did.  I managed to win my heat and was in the mix two or three metres from the finish in the final, when a Frenchman fell beside me and clipped my ankle, causing me to fall across the line and miss the gold medal by one-tenth of a second.  But in my fastest time for many years… and I was VERY HAPPY with that, despite coming so close to gold again.

Between times and even now, I still have to talk slower and more deliberately but continue to be the stadium announcer at Redcar Speedway, near Middlesbrough, where I notice a difference but others kindly say that I’m just as bad at it as I always was!!

I am on daily medication (75mg Clopidogrel and 5mg Amlodipine) and have my own blood pressure monitor, which encouragingly usually shows the lowest reading even AFTER a really hard training session or race.  I do a weekly parkrun and, since turning 60, have so far set four ‘age course records’ at runs in the West Yorkshire and North East areas.

I don’t feel exactly the same as I did.  I had small headaches for several months after the TIA (transient ischemic attack) and only recently realised that they had largely subsided and have deliberately been exercising my fingers even whilst writing this.  But overall, I am pleased and relieved to say I’m not that ‘far off’ from being as I was this time last year, so again, should consider myself lucky.

What caused it?  I’m not sure.  I’m not overweight, never smoked or drunk much and have always done PLENTY of exercises.  I have an often stressful life at home with family problems and am not always the fastest at work, which can add extra pressure, so that aspect would be favourite.

Ultimately, I’m thankful to still be in the game and with genuine hopes and belief that I can win a few more things yet.  Please take heart and never give up trying.