Sir Chris Hoy is a wise, gentle warrior so beloved that his personal tragedy feels like our own

There are times when we hear something so shocking it literally takes our breath away; a sucker punch that spirals immediately into a sense of shock and foreboding. 

Many of us will have experienced it in our personal lives; deep, intense, unforgiving, and a brutal awakening to the fact that things will never be the same again.

When we hear about tragedies befalling others, there is naturally a distance — a barrier almost — that separates the sad from the truly catastrophic.

However, the revelation from Sir Chris Hoy that he has only a few years to live is one of those moments where the two — in a sense — merge into one. It’s almost impossible to compute. He may not be part of our immediate family, but we, too, feel the immediate blow.

How could one of our greatest-ever sportsmen be struck down like this? How is it possible that he has been dealt such a terrible hand?

We reel collectively from the horrendous news, because Sir Chris feels inexplicably ‘ours’. 

A dedicated Scot, who rose to greatness on the track — and who showed a fearlessness the likes of which most of us could only dream. A guy, from a normal household, who became one of our country’s most recognisable figures.

From an early age, it was only ever about the bike. From his home in Edinburgh, he became a master on the BMX, racing up the world rankings and competing all over the world with the cream of the crop at junior level.

It was on the track, however, that Hoy really began to flourish. His silver in the team sprint at the 1999 UCI Track Cycling World Championships was only the beginning. It didn’t prepare us for what he was about to achieve in the years to come.

First came silver in the sprint at the Olympics in Sydney in 2000, followed by gold in the Kilo time trial at the Athens Games in 2004.

At Beijing in 2008, he sealed his name in history, becoming the first British male Olympian for 100 years to claim three golds at a single Games.

We all swelled with pride when he was knighted for his achievements.

It was perhaps his performances at the London Games in 2012, however, for which Hoy will always be remembered.

How we cheered when, with a huge smile etched across his face, he was Team GB’s flag-bearer at the opening ceremony. Here was a man we could all depend upon to bring the nation more success.

As he crossed the line to take Team Sprint gold with Jason Kenny and Philip Hindes, the roar of the crowds said it all. Hoy had secured his status as Britain’s joint holder of Olympic gold medals — his tally of five equalling the record previously set by Sir Steve Redgrave in rowing.

Hoy, however, was not to stop there. His gold in the Keirin catapulted him to new heights.

With six golds and one silver medal overall, he remains the third most-decorated British Olympian of all time.

Hoy shared all his successes with his wife, Sarra, who has been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis

Add that to his 11 world and 34 World Cup titles, and it was a stunning career.

It seemed, for all the world, like he would forever be our golden boy on the track. His retirement in 2013 was a moment for him to take stock and consider his future.

Sure, we all wanted him to compete at the 2014 Commonwealth Games in Glasgow — but Hoy was realistic. He knew that he didn’t just want to be there to ‘make up the numbers’.

Cycling, it seemed, had given him everything — and now it was time to let the next generation shine. To encourage others and to embrace new beginnings.

Hoy, to his immense credit, has continued to do that to this day.

And now comes this heart-breaking admission that he has between two and four years to live. As always, Hoy has promised to fight on, and he is doing so with his usual selflessness and integrity.

In an upcoming memoir, he explains his future in the bluntest of terms: ‘Just like that, I Iearn how I will die.’

It’s almost impossible to consider all this without welling up. We think about his children, Chloe and Callum. We think about his wife Sarra, who has her own battles to fight, after a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis. It all feels so desperately unfair.

Hoy became a master on the BMX, racing up the world rankings  before graduating to the track

Yet, in the darkest of times, it’s a reminder to all of us about the fragility of life — and the value that good human beings can bring to the world when the going really does get tough.

I last spoke to Sir Chris last August, shortly before his initial cancer diagnosis. We were sitting on a dusty wooden bench in Cumbernauld, shooting the breeze about the UCI World Cycling Championships. 

Hoy was grinning ear-to-ear as we watched youngsters zooming crazily up and down a man-made BMX track.

He was regaling me with tales of his time as a youngster; about his £5 bike picked up in a jumble sale, about watching ET at the cinema, and the realisation, for the first time, that bikes could actually help you ‘fly’. It was, he stated, a sense of pure, unadulterated freedom.

On that sunny day in Cumbernauld, Hoy told me: ‘You learned so many life lessons. It doesn’t matter how good you are as a kid at this sport — you don’t win all the time.

‘You get bad luck, sometimes more than other sports, so you have to learn how to lose, and you have to learn how to get yourself back off the ground when you fall off. I learned a lot from it and it set me off on the path ultimately to the velodrome and to the Olympics.’

In the most tragic of ways, it’s a good analogy for what lies ahead for him. You learn how to lose, you learn to get back up again — no matter which way you happen to fall off.

Hoy is — and always will be — a massive inspiration. A true gent of a man, always smiling, consistently gracious, a fierce, yet gentle warrior.

The way he tackles the next few years will define him more than any medal, any victory, any other achievement in life. And, in doing so, he will teach all of us how to ‘fly’. For that alone, we should show an enormous debt of gratitude.