Who and what will you be thinking about when you carry the baton on 22 September?
Chris. Every step I take will be with him in mind. I’ll carry the baton for the conversations we never had and the ones I now have in his honour. I’ll be thinking about all the people I’ve spoken to over the years, at schools, in businesses, on podcasts who’ve told me they’re struggling but didn’t know where to turn. I’ll think of the charities doing the gritty, quiet, essential work in our communities. I’ll carry them all with me.

 

What is your biggest hope for the 2025 Baton of Hope Tour?
That it cracks the surface of silence in every corner of this country. Awareness matters but what we need now is change at the roots. I want the baton to reach not just policy makers but parents, coaches, teachers, teammates and managers. The ones who can create safer spaces and kinder cultures. I want it to reach the person who’s never told anyone how they really feel and give them the strength to take that first step. That’s what matters most to me. The first step. In everything. That small shift, that moment of bravery, can be the most powerful turning point in someone’s life. If this tour helps just one person to take it, then it’s done its job as they will become the beacon of hope for the next person.

 

When you lost hope, what inspired you to keep fighting?
Losing Chris shattered something in me. It wasn't just grief, it was this deep, aching guilt that I hadn’t seen it, hadn’t known how much he was hurting. His death pulled the rug out from under me and for a while, I didn’t know how to stand again. But, over time I realised I could either let that loss close me down or use it to open something up. I chose the latter. I knew I couldn’t bring him back but I could make sure fewer people felt as alone as he did.

There was no lightning bolt, just small, powerful choices. Putting one foot in front of the other and going for a run. Throwing myself into freezing water just to feel something again. Saying out loud ‘I’m not okay’ and learning that was a strength, not a weakness.

Then my partner Kel came into my life. She saw me, really saw me and chose to stand beside me. Then with my twins Ted and Erin arriving, everything shifted again. They didn’t just give me something to live for, they gave me a reason to fight louder, to love harder and to never stay silent again. In their eyes, I saw the future. A future where conversations about mental health aren’t hidden behind closed doors, where the word ‘fine’ doesn’t mask pain.

Chris’s absence will always be with me but so will his impact. It’s what drives me to be a better man, a better father and a voice for change. His loss gave me a mission and my family gave me the strength to carry it forward.

 

What advice would you give to someone who feels they are in a dark place and have lost hope?
Please don’t keep it to yourself. You do not have to walk through this alone. Tell someone. Even if it’s messy or doesn’t make sense. The moment you say, ‘I’m struggling’, is the moment the darkness starts to lose its grip and if you don’t know what to say, say anything. Say, ‘I don’t know what to do’, because that’s real. That’s human and that’s the beginning of getting support. There are people who want you to stay, even if you can’t feel it right now. Borrow their belief until yours returns. You are not broken. You are not beyond help. You are here, and that’s enough for today.

 

Do you think there is still a stigma around poor mental health, including suicide, that makes people reluctant to reach out?

Without a doubt. The stigma hasn’t disappeared, it’s just changed shape. For many, especially men, there’s still shame in admitting vulnerability. There’s still this pressure to perform strength, to keep things moving and to not be a burden. That’s why I speak out on social media, on podcasts, on stages, in schools and in businesses. I’ve sat on judging panels for the Kent Mental Wellbeing Awards. I’ve won awards for the work I’ve done but none of that matters more than the moment someone messages me after a talk to say: ‘Thank you, I finally opened up’. That’s the real impact. That’s how we start to dismantle the stigma - by showing up and speaking up.

 

How are you working to use your lived experience to help others?
My ideology is to help one person a day, whether that through my profession or person life. They’re the same to me. Through every talk, every run, every conversation. I’ve run marathons, ultras and 100km through the night, not for medals but to raise money for grassroots mental health charities such as Keep Talking Services and East Kent Mind, who are keeping people alive when no one else sees them. I share my story publicly because I know the power of hearing someone say ‘Me too.’ I’ve spoken in schools to reach young people before the world teaches them to hide. I’ve worked with charities to amplify their message as I believe in community-led action in meeting people where they are. In creating the kind of environments where it’s safe to be real. I want to be a beacon, a lighthouse in someone’s storm because I’ve been there and I know that one light can change everything.