Geoff Thomas Foundation

STAGE TWELVE

MONTPELLIER TO CASTRES, 178.5 km

TODAY was the day my bid to ride the Tour de France route came to an end in a
Montpellier hospital.

After a couple of days battling against what I thought was the beginnings of
a virus, I finally gave up the ghost and did what I was told. After completing
the 2005 Tour and the first 11 stages of the 2007 race, I got off the bike
"packed" to use the cycling term.

I knew I was in trouble two nights ago after our epic late-night descent into
Marseille with Big Griz who had struggled bravely for most of the day. After
arriving at our hotel around 11pm, I was fit for nothing apart from crawling
under the covers in a cold sweat and passing out.

On stage 11, from Marseille into Montpellier, I was struggling at the back
for most of the day. It was Dan Ellmore's last day with us so he was having some
fun, sitting on the front, driving us hard in a bid to save our legs for the
tough days ahead. At times, I was looking at the computer, seeing us doing 38-40
km per hour and wondering if I'd be able to hang on.

Eventually, at about 25k to go my parachute did come out and, once I
finished, I felt terrible. By this morning, I was coughing up blood and one call
to my doc, Charlie Craddock, was enough to persuade me that I needed to get
myself to hospital. He said that from my symptoms, it sounded like I might have
the start of pneumonia or pleurisy so a check up was inevitable.

And that was that. The end of an opportunity to complete all 21 stages.

I didn't even tell Charlie that I had a temperature of over 100 for the
previous two days and, because of the respect I have for Charlie who has looked
after me from the very start of my leukaemia treatment, the decision to come off
the bike was an easy one. There was no choice to make.

After seeing the lads off from the start, I spent the majority of the day
with Becky, from the Foundation, enjoying the experiences of the French National
Health Service. And a very pleasant experience it was, too! They took x-rays and
blood tests and the diagnosis was nothing worse than a bad chest infection.

The tests were all negative so I was sent on my merry way with orders to take
3,000 mg of antibiotics per day and stay off the bike for a good few days.

To be honest, the outcome of the hospital visit was more one of relief than
anything. When Charlie mentioned pneumonia, I remember thinking the last thing I
need is to start going through major medical problems again, so to be given the
all-clear was what I wanted to hear.

The rest of the day was spent trying to catch up with the rest of the lads
who were making great time - covering over 110 miles in about six hours.

The lads said the route was a very enjoyable one, despite four bigg-ish
climbs, including a cat two on the way into the finish at Castres. It was a fast
descent from the top of that and the first contact I had with Team Thomas was
tuning into the radio where one of the Land Rover drivers, Tom, was commentating
on Dave Granger's lone sprint for the finish line. It was good to see the lads
still enjoying themselves despite my absence!

But, despite having to pull out, I have to say I am not as disappointed as I
thought I might be.

Two years ago, I was totally committed to finishing the whole thing. This
time, I wanted to do every single mile, but it is more important to me that the
other four lads who have survived cancer get around because of the message that
sends out about the Foundation and what we are trying to do.

A couple of days ago, when Griz was struggling so badly, I knew then that if
he had got off the bike, I would have got off with him as an act of unity.
Thankfully, he found his legs, and instead, it was me that was put out of the
Tour as we finished in the cold and the virus finally took hold.

Two years ago, I think I would have ridden on, regardless. Not only did I
have people to prove wrong, who said I couldn't do it, but also I wanted to say
a personal thank you to the people who had helped save my life, to the many
fellow patients I had spent hours with in hospital waiting rooms some of whom
were not as lucky as me.

On a grander scale, I had to survive my moment on the Galibier, the terrible
day when it was snowing at the top of the fearsome peak. That was the moment I
could suffer and think to myself Wow! I'm still here! I'm still alive!

Now, it doesn't matter that I got off the bike. It matters to me more that
Bully who rode for about 50km today before succumbing again to agonising
tendonitis in his knee has had to sit out four days after scrapping so bravely
against the pain.

And the Foundation matters far more to me than any personal goals. It matters
more to me to get the message out there to people about what we are trying to do
to help deal with this terrible disease. To get the message, particularly, to
the corporate sector and their charity budgets, so they understand fully what we
are involved in doing.

That, in short, is saving lives. If I miss a couple of days on a bike but the
other guys finish and help promote that message? Well, that is all I care about.