I've realised I can make a difference - Hoy

Chris Hoy

Sir Chris Hoy is in his kitchen, chatting about early-morning coffee and fry-ups.

And mindsets.

An Olympic champion's mindset to be exact.

An exacting, leave-no-stone-unturned, meticulous mindset that defined a career in which he won six gold medals and one silver across four Olympic Games.

This is the same mindset he is relying on more than ever to reframe his entire existence and purpose following a terminal cancer diagnosis.

"We normally have a fry-up for breakfast but, when you guys are here, we need to make an effort," he jokes.

The "you" in this instance are the BBC cameras that have been following Hoy and his family and friends for the past 12 months for the documentary Sir Chris Hoy: Cancer, Courage and Me.

It shows a hopeful, yet raw, portrayal of the realities of living with stage four cancer, while it also brings to life Hoy's realisation that he can use his platform as a force for raising awareness, and money, for other people living with the illness.

As he weighs his coffee – perhaps the number one area where Hoy's obsessive eye for detail manifests itself – the Scot is in an upbeat mood, laughing and joking with wife Sarra about their imagined usual morning scenario of a full English breakfast compared to the omelette and green homemade smoothie they are actually tucking into.

It has not been anywhere near this rosy for much of the past two years, however, as Hoy explains a few minutes later when the cameras are rolling properly.

"It's about five miles from the hospital back home," he says, describing his return journey from seeing doctors after learning of his cancer diagnosis in September 2023. "I just walked back in a daze. I don't remember the walk. I was just thinking, how am I going to tell Sarra? What am I going to say?

"As soon as I said the words, I broke down."

What Hoy had to articulate was a terminal cancer diagnosis. Incurable secondary bone cancer. Between two and four years to live.

"In my sporting career it used to be about process, not outcome," he says. "Focus on what you have control over. But if you win or lose, it's not life and death.

"[After the diagnosis] the stakes have changed dramatically. The principle is the same – but now it is life and death."

Hoy has shrewdly taken on support for this difficult time in his life.

Steve Peters is a man that Hoy knew could make a difference.

The list of sportspeople that Peters has worked with - the public list he is happy to talk about on the record - is a high-profile 'who's who' ranging from Steven Gerrard to Ronnie O'Sullivan.

The donkeys in the front paddock of the psychiatrist's countryside home bely that glitzy, glamourous list.

But their tranquil nature make complete sense when you spend a few hours in the company of Peters and Hoy.

Peters was Hoy's first port of call throughout his career when it came to training and calming his mind to be at its peak in and around Olympic competition.

He was also one of the first people Hoy called when he got his terminal diagnosis last year.

At first Peters was part of the firefighting phase of what Hoy's wife Sarra describes as a "deep grief" in the first few days post-diagnosis.

But in time, with Peters' help, Hoy set about finding a new purpose.

Firstly, it is to raise awareness of the limitations of the current provision for prostate cancer in the UK. Both Hoy's father and grandfather have had prostate cancer.

Understandably, given an earlier diagnosis could have shifted his diagnosis from terminal to manageable, the 49-year-old Scot argues eloquently that a national screening programme should be made a priority for men from their 45th birthday onwards.

But, crucially, his approach is also to show other people living with cancer that sport and exercise can still be a positive part of their lives, even through their treatment.

Peters explains: "What Chris did when he was presented with this illness is he

said: 'Right, what's the plan?' After we worked through the initial stages of the shock and grief of it, then he came out the other side and he picked up on the purpose.

"And that was to reach other people. It became a mission for him.”