My Story

That's me stood next to my mam when I was a teenager, above. Around us are my two brothers and my dad, too.

This is also my mam below, sat at Beamish Museum next to our beloved Basset Hound, Lily and family friend Kimberly.

My mam was 42 when that photo was taken above.

About 10 minutes after that photograph was taken, she said she felt dizzy, collapsed and died of a major heart attack in front of us. I tried to save her by putting her in the recovery position. It didn't work.

We were on a day out. Me, my dad, my younger brother and some family friends. Just like that she was gone, leaving us all. There were no warnings.

I was 19. My two brothers were 13 and 23. We watched our mam die in front of us.

I'll be 46 when I run the Great North Run.

That means I'm older than my mam when she died, and that I've lived for much longer without her in my life than I did with her in my life.

I still miss her every day. She's not only missed big parts of my life, but those of my brothers and my dad too.

And beyond that, she's never met my beautiful wife, our children or my nephews and nieces - her grandchildren - who she would have doted over with an abundance of love and affection.

She is dearly missed, and when I'm coughing and spluttering, bemoaning my aching knees on the run, I'll have tears in my eyes running for her memory.

But memories don't prevent it happening to anyone else, research does. And research needs money.

So please share what you can to help the British Heart Foundation. Times are tight for us all, and I truly mean 1p, 10p, £1 will help.

I've made the target £506 - that's £1 for every month she lived.

Here's to Lyn.
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