Welcome Message

When Matthew was diagnosed with testicular cancer in 2008 we were given a small insight into the experiences of cancer patients in the UK and the work of the Royal Marsden. His rapid and caring treatment in the hands of Kingston Hospital and the Royal Marsden Hospital meant that just ten weeks after his initial diagnosis his treatment was complete and confirmed as a success.



We were very lucky.



Our milestone 10th Wedding Anniversay gave us the chance to do something memorable together and raise some money to make a difference to other people's lives.



You can get involved too ... at our Route2Roots JustGiving site.


Saturday, 31 July 2010

Day one - the Tour de Doncaster

The Route to Roots is underway. We left a soggy London this morning and loaded the bikes on the train to Wakefield under the watchful eye of Steve, the very helpful train guard.

Two hours later we'd read the weekend paper and munched our picnic and it was time to get going.

We enjoyed a tail wind as we wizzed east along the Doncaster Road to our first 'birthplace', Pontefract where Matt's Dad started life.

Then it was 35 miles south, through the former coalfields of south Yorkshire and across the Don valley. A few hills along the way and some stunning views in all directions before we came into Dinnington (home of last year's TV 'makeover' colliery band) to put our feet up with a nice cup of tea at our B&B.

All in, 45 miles under our belts ... but the last road sign we passed pointed to Doncaster, just as the first had done!






Location:Sheffield,United Kingdom

Friday, 30 July 2010

Ten years on ...

At 2 o’clock on Saturday 19th August 2000 Matthew Fletcher married Catherine Stock at High Street Methodist Church, Maidenhead in a ceremony filled with family, friends, words and music. Tomorrow we start our Route to Roots, celebrating our 10th Anniversary.




We made some big promises to each other, ten years on they're still going strong ...

I Promise
Dorothy R. Colgan

I promise to give you the best of myself
and to ask of you no more than you can give.

I promise to respect you as your own person
and to realise that your interests, desires and needs
are no less important than my own.

I promise to share with you my time and my attention
and to bring joy, strength and imagination to our relationship.

I promise to keep myself open to you,
to let you see through the window of my world into my innermost fears
and feelings, secrets and dreams.

I promise to grow along with you,
to be willing to face changes in order to keep our relationship alive and exciting.

I promise to love you in good times and in bad,
with all I have to give and all I feel inside in the only way I know how.
Completely and forever.






Thursday, 29 July 2010

£4,000 raised so far !!!!!

Thanks to all our awesome supporters the total raised so far is now over the £4,000 mark. We set off in 2 days and are really hoping to get to £4,500 as that will be a cool £10 a mile.

Wednesday, 28 July 2010

Last training ride

Some pics from this mornings training ride in Richmond Park

 




and the handy reminders on our garage wall!



Sunday, 18 July 2010

War Babies - the Roots of our Route

In January and November 1942 two baby boys were born at opposite ends of the country, Yorkshire and Monmothshire. Two years later, again in January and November, two baby girls were born, in the West Country – Wiltshire and Cornwall. They grew up, the girls married the boys and had families of their own. Their firstborns met, married and ten years later decided to go on a bike ride. This is the story of the roots of our route.

Shirenewton – Catherine’s Dad
Roger Anthony (known as Tony) was born to Beryl and Arthur Stock on Thursday 29th January 1942 in a nursing home in the village of Shirenewton, Monmouthshire. The couple had moved to Wales at the start of the war when Arthur, a chemist, was transferred from the Royal Naval Cordite Factory, Holton Heath near Poole to a new Admiralty munitions factory at Caerwent. The family lived in one of a number of Nissen huts in Caerwent, built to accommodate the sudden influx of people working at the munitions factory. Tony recalls family outings on bicycles with his father’s homemade child-seats. Tony is joining us on a slightly more sophisticated bike as we ride the Shirenewton leg of our trip.

Pontefract – Matthew’s Dad
Alan Nicholas (known as Nick) was born to Anne and John Fletcher on Wednesday 4th November 1942 in a nursing home in Pontefract. Anne had come out of the WAAFS to have her baby son and lived with John’s widowed mother in Leeds whilst John trained for Mini (X craft) submarines in Scotland. John’s mother had many friends in the medical profession, her husband having been a General Practitioner, and so was able to arrange for Anne to go to Pontefract for the birth, away from the smog-prone air of home. Nick didn’t see his father until he returned from the Med in mid-1945 having spent three years as commander (RNR) of a tank landing craft; his ears couldn't stand the pressure levels required of a submariner. Nick recalls being scared stiff on being introduced to his father. Although christened Alan, his names were reversed and he was known as Nicholas when his grandmother could no longer bear the reminder of her own son Alan, killed when he lost control of his Blenheim bomber in Norfolk in June 1940.

Wadebridge – Catherine’s Mum
Mary Kathryn was born to Gladys and William Walters on Tuesday 11th January 1944 at the Blenheim Nursing Home in Wadebridge. The couple lived in Launceston but chose to go to Wadebridge for the birth as Gladys’s great friend “Auntie Brownie” (as she was always known to Mary) was a district nurse and midwife there. The family tale has it that Will had a broken wrist at the time of Mary’s arrival – sustained whilst crank starting a lorry with a starting handle. He was a road transport manager, managing a fleet of lorries at the time. Will’s brother and his wife were also expecting a baby at the same time and both mothers wanted to call their daughter “Mary”. As it turned out, Mary arrived ten days before her cousin, Margaret.



Marlborough – Matthew’s Mum
Rosalind Elizabeth was born to Kay and Morris Nicol on Tuesday 21st November 1944 at Savernake Hospital on the outskirts of Marlborough. She was delivered by Mr Tim Maurice, one of the 217-year dynasty of Dr Maurice’s to practice in Marlborough. Kay was living with her in-laws in Pewsey, seven miles down the road from the hospital in Marlborough. Morris was away, serving with the RAF in Bomber Command as a navigator and bomb aimer. The family remained in Pewsey after the war, with branches of the Nicol family still living in the area.



Tuesday, 13 July 2010

Hi Doc, one of my testicles is swollen.

Swollen, that's what I thought. I couldn't feel any lumps or bumps and to me it felt the same shape as the other one, but one of them was definitely bigger than the other, and probably bigger than it should be. I say probably because a size differential is normal and that makes it difficult to know whether there's a real problem or not. So how should you decide? Of course, the answer is that you don't, instead you go along to the GP and ask them. Now I would love to say that that is exactly what I did, but it isn't. The details of my faffing around are for another time but with hindsight let me say that the correct action is to go to the GP right away and present the problem to a trained professional.

The first 5 minutes of my GP appointment saw me squirming with embarassment as I completely failed to see that questions about my "lifestyle" were his way of asking if I might have an STD, but once we got that one out of the way we got to the point where we agreed a physical examination was going to be necessary. More embarassment as I get undressed but 30 seconds later the GP has called it cancer.

There are four stages to testicular cancer and the stages relate to how far the cancer has spread. In stage one the cancer is contained with the testicle and if caught at this point the treatment is simple and your chances of survival are greater than 90%. Wait until stage four and the cancer will have spread through your lymph system, into your lungs and beyond. By now your chances are less than 50% and the treatment will be prolonged and severe.

So an early diagnosis is crucial to a successful outcome and the screening test could not be any easier. There's no need for doctors, appointments or blood tests, you just need to get your hands on your bollocks and see how they feel. So if you're a bloke give them a check the next time you're in the shower and if you're a wife/girlfriend/partner make sure that he checks them. Its such a simple thing and yet it can make such a difference, so ladies, maybe, just this once its OK to nag.

The MacMillan website is a great place for cancer information and it has sections on testicular cancer and how to examine yourself.

And finally, here is the last ever picture of my left testicle.

Thursday, 8 July 2010

Our route takes shape

Day One : Saturday 31st July
Train to Wakefield ... cycle to Rotheram via Pontefract

Day Two : Sunday 1st August
Cycle from Rotherham to Appleby Magna (Tamworth)

Day Three : Monday 2nd August
Cycle from Appleby Magna to Tewkesbury

Day Four : Tuesday 3rd August
Cycle from Tewkesbury to Alveston (Bristol) via Shirenewton in Gwent

Day Five : Wednesday 4th August
Cycle from Alveston to Pewsey via Marlborough

Day Six : Thursday 5th August
Cycle from Pewsey to Bridgewater

Day Seven : Friday 6th August
Cycle from Bridgewater to Great Torrington

Day Eight : Saturday 7th August
Cycle from Great Torrington to Wadebridge

Day Nine : Train from Bodmin to home

Friday, 2 July 2010

Check Up Time

Every four months I return to the Royal Marsden for a check up. It is reassurring to know that you're being given the medical once over but returning to the Marsden, a hospital that only deals with cancer, is good for the soul.

I mentioned this to someone recently and when they asked me why I fumbled my answer. So today I am sitting in the outpatients department waiting for my appointment and attempting to answer that question.

It would of been easy for me to continue to live life exactly as I had been doing before cancer, and simply ignore the whole episode. But if I do that then I fear I will of learnt nothing. It's not that I feel the need to change everything, it's just that I've been given a second chance and I mustn't waste it. I must remember the promises I made to myself during darker days. So sitting here now, in a place that deals with cancer every day, I am reminded of what a great chance I now have.

Thursday, 1 July 2010

You're going where?


Being a bit time starved we were looking for a breakthrough idea on how we could find the time to do a decent training ride together when we were presented with one by the Cyclists Touring Club. They organise a completely mad event known as the Friday Night Ride to the Coast; one friday every month they meet at midnight on Hyde Park Corner and then ride to somewhere known for its beach. So last friday they were riding to Bognor Regis and we joined them for the 70 mile trip through the night.

I like to think I have done some mad things but I have to say this one is right up there, it was really magical. The group of cyclists was 70 strong and as we cruised through central London we caused quit a stir, for sure we elicited a few beeped horns but we did always stop for red lights.

As we crossed the river and headed through south London we were cheered on by endless numbers of revellers whose alcohol intake led them to confuse us with the Tour de France. Clapham had become Alpe D'Huez. When we did stop they'd ask us where we were going and the stock answer was "to the seaside!"

Crossing the M25 on a deserted A24 we came across our first roads with no street lamps and that's when I realised my single beam headlamp was not going to cut it. Now, normally on a group bike ride I feel my masculinity is challanged by the fact I have no carbon fibre parts on bike at all. But on the FNRttC the big boys all have big lights. So I acknowledged my lack of manliness and rode in front of someone else and stared at my own shadow. Fortunately for me we soon stopped for breakfast at a cool truckers cafe and by the time we came out it was daylight.

We rode an easy pace all the way to Bognor which is just as well as it was very social group and no one had any breath left for riding hard. We both loved the experience and if you ever get the chance to do this ride you should, but do go and buy yourself a big headlight first.