Thanks everyone for all your support. I'm afraid I got swept up by the broom waggon after 82km. I climbed the Col de Madelaine and was half way up the Col du Glandon - but just short of the required time, so disqualified. The Etape beat me - this time. It was still a great day, though. The amount of people that were slapping me on the back, commenting about the cycling jersey dedicated to Lynn and wishing me well, it did bring a tear to my eye - and thinking about Lynn helped me get to the summit of that 28km climb.

My lovely sister Lynn died from bowel cancer last May. She was only 42.  Lynn was the kindest, friendliest and most caring of people. She had volunteered as a bereavement counsellor and for many years cared for a lady with early onset Alzheimers disease.  All who knew Lynn deeply feel her loss – most particularly her husband Michael and son Jacob. 

I spent the last month of Lynn’s life in Swansea, where she lived, and just felt powerless.  During this time my brother-in-law was taking part in the C2C bike ride for charity.  It inspired me and I resolved then to do L'Etape du Tour the following year.  I told Julie and other family and friends – don’t they say that by telling other people your plans, it makes it harder to back out?  At least it would be something positive I could do.

I’ve cycled on and off for most of my life – a lot when I was a student, but a lot less so over the last ten or fifteen years.  I’d done charity bike rides like the London to Brighton in my youth.  Lynn joined me on the Eastend-Southend ride in 1988.  I have also always loved the Tour de France.  Lynn was a fan too – her favourite rider was Laurent Fignon – mainly because he wore glasses as well.  So when I heard about the Etape du Tour back in the 90s, I had in the back of my mind that I should one day do it.  For those of you who haven’t heard of it, every year the Tour organisers open a stage to normal people – to compete on closed roads, in front of the fans waiting for the Tour proper to arrive, a few days before the professionals tackle the same ride.  It’s usually the hardest stage (the professional riders ride about 21 stages over the course of three and a half weeks), in the Alps or the Pyrenees.  I had always put it off, though.  I hadn’t done enough cycling of late, I had too many other things to do – there were always excuses.  But now I thought, ‘what more motivation do I need?’  So this is the challenge: the Etape this year is 152km of riding in the Alps (about 95 miles).  It takes in the climbs of four mountain passes, with a total of over 18,000 feet of vertical ascent, and ends at the ski station of La Toussuire.  Oh, and there’s a ‘Broom Waggon’ to sweep up anybody who is slower than the speed that the organisers set as the minimum to complete the ride.  And I’m now 47, overweight and with dodgy knees!

I’ve been a bit of an academic and researcher, but also very practical. I think I always believe that there’s a solution to every problem, if you think about it for long enough. But there was nothing that we or the medical team caring for Lynn could do to save her. She died less than a year after being diagnosed with cancer of the small intestine. 17,000 people in the UK die from bowel cancer every year. Bowel & Cancer Research are working to improve survival rates for bowel cancer sufferers through pioneering research into the spread and behaviour of cancer in specific at risk populations – which transfers medical research directly to the operating theatre or the patient bedside in the form of new diagnostic techniques and treatments. I hope my efforts will raise awareness and fundraise for this charity so that soon some answers to this awful disease are found and people diagnosed in the future will have a chance.