One thing I have learned over the years managing cancer and paralysis is that no two days are the same.

Certainly no two weeks are.

But one of the key ingredients for performance sport is consistency - as we watch the opening ceremony for Paris 2024 one of the defining characteristics that will help athletes achieve success is their consistency in training and competition.

There is no getting away from it - if you do not have consistency then to perform at the highest level it’s going to be almost impossible.

It reminds me of the saying: “Hard-work beats talent when talent doesn’t work hard”. 

I’d like to change the word hard with smart as most athletes I have met work hard but not always smart.

And I definitely fall into this category.

I was never scared of working hard and pushing myself but I wasn’t always smart about my approach.

However, my work ethic has helped me through some of the dark hours of cancer to be able to dig in and just keep pushing and to not give up.

And it’s the same perseverance we will all see over the next few weeks of sport.

If it was that mindset which kept me going through the dark hours it was also that mindset that has made the last week almost unbearable.

Having found a huge amount of motivation after listening to the high performance podcast, I went hard rather than smart.

I was consistent every day on the golf course at the driving range, hitting 200 balls a session.

I was flying but as last Saturday reached I started to feel unwell and started to struggle 

I felt exhausted, bouts of pain that can only be described like being shot or stabbed and now these pain attacks are coming on 24 hours a day. 

As I lay in anticipation when the next one was going to happen it left me feeling exhausted.

I had traveled across London to the diamond league on Saturday and it was at that point I realised I’ve gone too hard all week at the driving range, because as I reached the stadium I felt my legs starting to fade.

I could no longer walk and I had to sit in a chair trying to compose myself for 20 minutes before finding my seat in the stadium to watch the action.

The full extent of what I had done hit me when I arrived home and I couldn’t get my legs to work to get up the stairs into my flat.

My partner almost had to carry me as she supported me on the steps lifting each leg individually as I held on tightly with my one arm to the railing.

As soon as I entered the house I collapsed onto the sofa and as I write this weeks column I’m ashamed to say that my whole week has been based around my bed and the sofa.

With my legs hardly working, I was exhausted and in excruciating pain all week.

I tried purposely not to scroll online to read too much about the Olympics to see an athlete that I once was.

In fact I now look in the mirror and can’t recognise the person staring back at me, and that’s hard especially when I am actually thrilled to watch the sport and it was the one coping mechanism that got me through the week - to sit and watch sport on the sofa.

So let’s just say it’s a lesson in training smart over hard that I’m still learning after 14 years.

It felt easy for me to go 100% every day at everything not realising the cost it had on a post radiation body.

It’s a body that has been through so much yet I hold it to a high standard and maybe this is not only what keeps me going but it is also my biggest downfall.

Come Friday morning it’s a beautiful sunny one and these are the ones that really hurt. 

I don’t mind if I open my eyes and it’s raining - I can somehow justify to myself that another day in bed is okay.

But when the sun is bursting through the blind and I can hear people moving around outside it kills me I try to motivate myself.

‘Come on, David get up’.

But my legs just don’t want to work.

It is my body which has given up, not my mind.

I have to then catch my mind when it mutters the words ‘why are we bothering’.

That’s the hard part.

To change the inner narrative and shift that mindset knowing that thoughts create feelings which create emotions which result in behaviours and these are all interrelated and feed each other.

I tell myself that I’ll try to avoid any mirror this week as I can’t bear looking at myself.

Just trying to get to the shower it’s been a challenge.

As my fellow friends and athletes at the Olympics are in the best shape possible I feel like I’m in the worst place of my life, it is amazing how quickly it can all change in a week.

Last week as I hit golf balls I felt like my old invincible self again. 

I felt like a sportsman then a week on I haven’t left my house and barely spoke to any other human.

This is definitely not the David I know but it is the reality of 14 years of cancer and 8 years of paralysis.

I have said before I don’t share this for sympathy or pity. 

Authenticity is important to me and I want to share not just the highs but I do feel it’s important to highlight the laws.

I’m not sure if there’s a coping mechanism for when you’re told you have cancer or when you realise that you’re paralysed.

I try my best but I don’t think any of us are ever prepared to face these adversities in life.

Yet the human spirit is an incredible thing and I know that this week is only a temporary setback and that I will be back to the David I know very soon.