Mel Erwin is pragmatic about what it took to get her on a bike. “I have one and a half lungs. I’m on a treatment drug. I don’t identify as sporty. I wouldn’t have done it without a goal.”
This Sunday the 57-year-old will roar up the Campsie Hills north of Glasgow in a “camp as Christmas” sparkly cape alongside her partner, Sarah, and 3,000 other participants.
It’s all part of the inaugural Tour de 4, a charity ride conceived by Sir Chris Hoy with the aim of challenging assumptions about those living with stage 4 cancer.
The roaring is literal: during months of training, Erwin has found vocalising “really helps” on steeper inclines. And the pink and gold sequins encapsulate the spirit of celebrating each day woven through the event, a hallmark of Hoy’s approach to his own stage 4 prostate cancer.
The six-time Olympic gold medallist stunned the UK late last year when he revealed that his cancer was incurable, with a prognosis of between two and four years to live.
Hoy’s honesty and grace in sharing his circumstances moved Erwin, who has been living with stage 4 lung cancer for five years. “It’s rare that people speak out about having stage 4 cancer. The shame, the confusion, it’s not something we speak about,” she said.
Hoy describes this unique event, where those living with stage 4 cancer will cycle alongside their loved ones to raise funds for cancer charities across the UK, as “an opportunity to push limits”.
Different routes and levels of participation are tailored to the individual’s physical capacity – from riding a static bike for as little as one minute in the Sir Chris Hoy Velodrome in Glasgow, to three outdoor routes of increasing length and elevation.
Chris Hoy in 2008. His ‘honesty and grace’ about living with stage 4 cancer moved Mel Erwin to take part. Photograph: Steve Parsons/PA
“This is not about being the fastest,” Hoy has reassured participants. “It’s about preparation, about showing up, riding your way and being part of something bigger than all of us.”
This notion of it being a movement inspired Erwin, who lives in east London, to get involved. “It’s about being part of a community. It’s really isolating having cancer – stage 4 cancer in particular,” she said.
Hoy’s motivation is “to shine a spotlight on what a stage 4 cancer diagnosis can look like and demonstrate that it is possible to live well and lead a happy life alongside this devastating diagnosis”.
It’s an attitude that resonated powerfully with Christine Lote, from Bristol, who was diagnosed with stage 4 bone cancer on her eldest daughter’s third birthday last June. In the “whirlwind of overwhelm and heartbreak” that followed came Hoy’s announcement and his memoir All That Matters. Lote, whose daughters Sophie and Chloe are now two and four, appreciated how Hoy had written about “navigating your diagnosis as a family”.
skip past newsletter promotion
Get the day’s headlines and highlights emailed direct to you every morning
Privacy Notice: Newsletters may contain information about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. If you do not have an account, we will create a guest account for you on theguardian.com to send you this newsletter. You can complete full registration at any time. For more information about how we use your data see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.
after newsletter promotion
Christine Lote, who was stage 4 bone cancer, will take to Scotland’s Campsie Hills in the Tour de 4. Photograph: Adrian Sherratt/The Guardian
“Looking back, I’d like my girls to see I was part of something that did challenge me, at a time where I could have easily not been so willing,” she said. “I want to set that role model for them – to be positive and you can still achieve things.”
A particular achievement for Lote, who trained on the Bristol and Bath railway path, has been re-learning to pedal with a prosthetic after her right leg was amputated below the knee.
“It’s been such a focus this year,” she said. “Obviously, I can’t completely forget about the cancer when I’m out there cycling, but I’m not thinking too much about the ‘scan-xiety’ and other stuff, I’m thinking about the cycling.”
Many people who have experience of cancer describe a brutal loss of trust in their own bodies – because cancer can often hide undetected. For Erwin, the training has eased this. “There’s something about keeping the wheels turning, the fact that my muscles, thighs, heart, lungs, everything is working in synchronicity.”
Hoy, Lote and Erwin acknowledge that not everyone with stage 4 cancer can manage a physical challenge like this, and the event is organised around inclusivity. Lote has gathered a list of names from her Instagram page of people who would have loved to have taken part but are now too sick, and will carry it in her cycle jersey.
“Unfortunately, many people I know and love aren’t well enough to do this challenge,” said Erwin. “Me and Christine both know one day that will be us. We’re doing what we can now to raise awareness and to celebrate. But it’s also painful, that’s the reality. On the day, there will be tears because we’ve lost people along the way and one day people will lose us.”
