Will you donate to 21 miles One pool My prune fingers All for Macmillan?

21 miles One pool My prune fingers All for Macmillan

£781

23 mi

My story

Back in 2010, Hodgkin's lymphoma and I spent six very unwanted months together. Chemo, fatigue, the whole glamorous package. Spoiler alert: I won. The cancer didn't know what hit it.

What also didn't know what hit it? My hair. My dignity. My ability to stay awake past 7pm.

Oh, and the steroids they put me on to help me get through chemo? They had a fun little side effect: zero sleep. I'm talking wide awake at 3am, reorganising cupboards, watching infomercials like they were Oscar-winning films, and wondering why my body refused to shut down. Exhausted but buzzing. Cancer's cruelest joke.

Here's the honest truth: I didn't have Macmillan's help at the time. I got through it with family, stubbornness, and a lot of bad TV. But going through cancer without that support made me realise just how much people need someone like Macmillan in their corner.

Not everyone has a solid family. Not everyone has the energy to fight alone. And no one should have to lie awake at 4am on steroids wondering if anyone out there understands.

So this swim isn't about me paying them back. It's about making sure the next person has what I didn't.

Fast forward to 2026. I'm fit, healthy, and apparently still incapable of choosing a normal hobby.
One quiet hitch: I suffer from osteoarthritis thanks to the chemo. The older I get, the worse it gets. Some mornings my joints remind me of 2010 like an unwanted reunion tour. But I'm still here, still moving, and that's more than enough.

So I'm swimming 21 miles. In a pool. Over June and July.

Yes, a pool. Not the ocean. Not a lake. A rectangular box of mildly chlorinated water that I will stare at for what feels like several centuries.

Why? Because Macmillan helps people who are where I was in 2010 – scared, exhausted, and wired at 3am. I want them to have the support I didn't. Also because I enjoy suffering in ways that confuse my friends and family.

What your donation does:

£10 – helps Macmillan answer a call from someone who just heard "you have cancer."

£25 – funds their online community, so no one has to feel alone at 3am.

£50 – provides a Macmillan grant for someone struggling financially due to treatment.

More – well, that's just showing off. But please, show off.

A few promises:

I will not complain about the boredom. (Okay, I will. But I'll do it quietly.)

Every mile is for someone going through treatment right now – especially the ones lying awake, steroid-jittery, wondering if anyone gets it.

If you'd rather swim 21 miles yourself, be my guest. But since that sounds deeply unappealing to most humans, please just donate instead.

Thank you for reading, laughing, and giving. I got through 2010 with sheer grit and terrible sleep. Let's make sure the next person gets something better – Macmillan.

Swim starts June 2026. My sleep schedule? Still a disaster.

– Paul

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Raised

£781

Target

£250

312.28000000000003% there

Miles completed

22.62 mi

Target

21 mi

107.70430666666667% there