They’re the four words you never, ever want to hear. “I’m sorry. It’s terminal”, said the oncologist.
It was a shock, but not a surprise, which sounds peculiar, so let me explain. Prostate cancer has waxed and waned in my life the past seven years.
My first diagnosis, in 2017, permitted, even encouraged, optimism. It was “treatable”. Nine out of ten men with the flavour I then had get blasted with radiotherapy, undergo surgery or more rarely other forms of treatment, and cross the threshold of the oncologist’s office only to be signed off as cured, or at least in remission indefinitely.
That was me, until it wasn’t; until I became That Guy, the one in ten, where it comes back, but worse. So in September 2024 I heard Those Four Words.
Deep down, I knew they were coming. I’d seen the worrying test results, I’d done the reading. So yeah, shocked, but not surprised.
Family, friends – they’re the first to know, of course. Then colleagues. And the upshot of that was an abrupt and largely unexplained vanishing act from the newly-rebooted Zwiftcast. Long-time listeners will recall that I’d always planned to hand over to a new team. But like this? No, not like this.
This was all, oddly, contemporaneous with Sir Chris Hoy’s similar bombshell announcement, and like the great Olympian, I too started a brutal, gruelling six rounds of chemotherapy. Friends, it was hellish.
I was left hollowed out, weak as a kitten and felt like I’d never, ever get back on a bike again.
But then on the way to the hospital for another session, we drove past an artistic landmark in my home-town of Leeds in Yorkshire, England.
It’s a line from the great Chumbawumba anthem, Tubthumping, from 1997:
It resonated. It spoke to me. Let’s be frank, I won’t beat cancer. That’s not how it works. But I can Get Up Again and get back on a bike.
Plans were hatched. Strategies devised. And they included a YouTube channel. It would
document my ascent from the nadir of chemo to the moment I got back in the saddle. And beyond – it would follow my progress as I attempted to get back to something like the cyclist I was before Those Four Words.
The name? Well, it could only be Simon Rides On… a nod to my long, long association with Zwift and a forward-looking thought to spur me on. And much of the reasoning behind the channel is about that – accountability. It would be easy to give up, to accept my riding days are over, to focus on other things in the remaining time.
But I love riding a bike. Exercise, I strongly believe, is a panacea. I’ll get stronger, rid my body of the toxins of chemo and restore some kind of normality after a tumultuous few months. And committing to that on the internet, well, I gotta do it then haven’t I?
I know what you’re thinking – and no, I don’t know either. My oncologist doesn’t know. It could be two years, maybe five, possibly ten or more. However long it is, I’m determined to spend a portion of that time doing the thing that has brought me great joy, fantastic friendships and been a huge part of my life.
Do you want to join the ride? I’d love to have you along.
Simon Rides On launched on YouTube this week. Find the channel at youtube.com/@SimonRidesOn.
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