夜色直播

Tadej Poga膷ar, already regarded by many as cycling鈥檚 GOAT (Greatest of All Time), had the chance to complete the sport鈥檚 coveted 鈥楾riple Crown鈥� of winning the Giro d鈥橧talia, the Tour de France and the Road World Championship in the same season. Only two men had ever done this before, and having completed the Giro/Tour double in 2024, Poga膷ar had a shot at history.

And boy, did he take it. An incredible 100km attack saw him win in Z眉rich, with one of the greatest performances sport has ever seen!

The elation I felt as he crossed that finish line was something I hadn鈥檛 felt in years. My scream was pure joy. I was walking on air for around three weeks, telling everyone and anyone about what I had the privilege to witness. It was perpetual elation.

And then 鈥� boom.

From nowhere, cancer decimated everything.

It was late October 2024 when I discovered I had Stage 4 kidney cancer. I was 42 years old, and it came from nowhere.

From a couple of symptoms to a shock diagnosis

I had hardly any symptoms - only night sweats (which could easily be put down to other reasons) and an inability to finish pepperoni pizzas and a few beers.

The latter annoyed me most, as I looked forward to 鈥楤eer & Pizza Night鈥� on Fridays, but I knew I couldn鈥檛 call my GP and say, 鈥淗ey, Friday nights aren鈥檛 fun anymore鈥�, so I cheekily exaggerated the symptoms in an attempt to save my Fridays.

It鈥檚 so strange that I still feel shame for doing that, but if I hadn鈥檛, I might not be here writing this now. Fortunately, the doctor sent me for a blood test, and after concerning results, called me in for an appointment to examine my stomach. He then sent me for a scan.

When I went for that CT scan, the radiologist was really friendly and lively when I came in and got ready. But after the scan, when his colleague came to remove my cannula, he suddenly came on the intercom saying sharply, 鈥淣o, wait! We need to go again. We need to do the chest.鈥�

At this point, I knew something was wrong, because the scan was only supposed to be for my stomach and pelvic area. The radiologist was like a different person when he spoke to me before I left. His face had dropped. He could barely look me in the eye. I got out of there as quickly as I could. I didn鈥檛 need to ask any questions 鈥� I knew something was wrong.

The next morning, I had a missed call from my GP and, when I tried to call back, I couldn鈥檛 get hold of him. It got to 5pm and I could not bear the wait any longer, so I foolishly checked the NHS app. I thought that if the results were okay, they鈥檇 be there. I was certain that if they were bad, they wouldn鈥檛 be.

But, my word, to my horror, they were there鈥�

I read what seemed like a death sentence. Apparently, I had an 18 by 20cm mass on one of my kidneys and it had metastasised to and throughout my lungs. I say 鈥渁pparently鈥� as I couldn鈥檛 believe this was possible without symptoms. Had they mixed my scan up with someone else鈥檚? How was a tumour that size even possible without symptoms? These were just some of the questions suddenly racing through my head.

But it quickly, yet slowly, set in 鈥� devastation doesn鈥檛 really come any other way.

I was looking at all of this on my own in a busy central London coffee shop and, despite acting normally, I was in shock. But I sat there and finished my coffee because that鈥檚 what I came in to do. I guess we all react in different ways.

I also don鈥檛 have any family in London 鈥� they are all back home in Northern Ireland 鈥� so, when the dust settled, suddenly and frighteningly, my independence was potentially a problem.

Ironically, October 2024 was when Sir Chris Hoy announced his cancer was terminal, just three days before I discovered mine.

When I first heard his news, I remember thinking that if someone as fit as him could get it, anyone could. And there I was, days later 鈥� suddenly in the same boat. 

What were my chances? I thought there were none.

Treatment plan and further bad news

By early November, I'd met my oncology team and was advised that I would receive immunotherapy every four weeks for at least two years, whilst taking a daily chemotherapy tablet. The lead oncologist told me they had seen really good results with this treatment for some patients with kidney cancer, but there was no guarantee it would work for me.

I, however, thought this was great news. Suddenly, there was hope.

But before commencing this treatment, we had to wait for a biopsy and a brain scan. The biopsy confirmed the diagnosis and the treatment was set to start a week before Christmas.

But on Friday 13th December 鈥� of all days 鈥� I got the worst phone call of my life:

鈥淯nfortunately, the cancer has spread to your brain.鈥�

This time, I felt there was less than no hope.

My treatment was postponed as my brain was the priority. The doctors explained that I would be given Gamma Knife radiotherapy treatment that would target the lesion in my brain from different angles. This would be a precise, targeted process to treat the lesion.

I鈥檓 extremely lucky that this worked well and the lesion has become smaller and remained stable, to the point that the oncologists are suggesting what they see on scans may, just may, be scar tissue that has now been left in my brain. But there is no certainty.

Only, thankfully again, hope.

Processing what was happening to me at 夜色直播

A few weeks after the Gamma Knife treatment, just before my regular treatment eventually began, I discovered Maggie鈥檚.

I鈥檇 had lots of information to take in and papers to sign before treatment, so when I first walked through the doors, signed papers fresh in my hands, I felt drained, scared and not really sure about what was going to happen.

My plan was to just go in and sit quietly with a cup of tea, but one of the team came to greet me immediately at the door. They welcomed me in, which I wasn't prepared for, and I just froze and broke down in tears.

I can鈥檛 even remember if I got that cup of tea, and that鈥檚 always the priority where I come from! But it's Maggie鈥檚, so I鈥檓 sure I did.

Following that, I came to Maggie鈥檚 regularly.

Coming to Maggie鈥檚 helped me navigate my way through my treatment and the financial and social burdens of a cancer diagnosis.

My treatment causes a variety of side effects. My hair stopped producing colour and went from dark brown to the faintest shade of blonde, and I have hard skin on my feet which renders walking extremely painful. There was some relief from the side effects, when my dosage of the chemotherapy tablet was reduced, as it was poisoning my liver. My brown hair came back, but the dosage has since increased, so I don鈥檛 know what will be next.

Cycling and a full circle moment

Rolling back, I was always on a bike as a child, and my dad, a keen cyclist himself, was involved with the Irish Cycling Federation. This made the Tour de France essential viewing in our house.

From a young age, I always planned to one day go to France and climb the famous Tour de France mountains like Mont Ventoux and Alpe d'Huez. When I hit my forties, just before I was diagnosed, that was still a goal, but one I assumed I had time to fulfil. After my diagnosis, this was thrust to the top of my to-do list, as I thought I might not get the chance in the future.

So, two weeks after my first immunotherapy session, I went back to the gym and immediately jumped on an exercise bike. In an unusual move for me, I took my phone with me and posted an Instagram story. I've always had a strict policy of no distractions when training, but this day had an obvious significance in my cancer fight. And in that story, I tagged Tadej Poga膷ar. Jokingly, I asked: if I could climb Alpe d'Huez with Stage 4 cancer, could I claim to be the cycling GOAT?

This was as tongue-in-cheek as it gets, but astonishingly, two hours later, he replied.

鈥淜eep on going! The GOAT is you!鈥�

A three-time Tour de France champion (now four, or hopefully five when you read this) taking the time to message me! I was stunned for the second time in a few months, but this time in a very good way. I suddenly remembered the joy of that September day in Z眉rich once again.

My cancer diagnosis took that elation away, but in a sense, Tadej personally gave it back to me when he sent that message.

I will be forever grateful to him for that.

Just a few months later, Tadej announced that in October 2025, he was going to race fans up his home climb in Slovenia, in an event known as the 鈥楶ogi Challenge鈥�. With the best of reasons, I put my French plans on hold. This was bigger and better. This was perfect. Everything and more!

I signed up immediately and just eight months after starting cancer treatment, I lived the dream of taking on Tadej Poga膷ar up an epic climb, at the Pogi Challenge.

The power of a simple text, eh?

The goal last October was just to finish. I had no idea if I could. I even thought I might come last. But, to my surprise, I finished the 1189m Krvavec climb in just under 83 minutes, only 42 minutes behind Tadej.

But that鈥檚 the thing, I finished at 204% of his time. Some would settle and say that is 鈥榟alf as good鈥�, but not me. Because it wasn鈥檛.

So this year, even though I鈥檒l be a further nine months into cancer treatment 鈥� and the Pogi Challenge will be held at the height of the Slovenian summer 鈥� I will travel there and take on the hardest thing I鈥檝e ever done, once again, this time aiming to be at least 鈥渉alf as good鈥� as Tadej Poga膷ar. Madness, right?!

Taking on the Tour de 4

And鈥� if aiming to be half as good as one of the greatest athletes there鈥檚 ever been isn鈥檛 enough of a challenge for a Stage 4 cancer patient, a month later I will be heading to Glasgow to ride Sir Chris Hoy鈥檚 Tour de 4!

Naturally, I鈥檒l be taking on the toughest 鈥楻ed Route鈥�, which is 96km (56 miles) long.

Now, Scotland in September will likely provide slightly more favourable weather conditions for an Irishman, and the only GOAT to chase will likely be a goat. But, it鈥檚 still going to be an epic ride on tough unforgiving terrain.

The Tour de 4 is the cycling event launched by Sir Chris Hoy following his Stage 4 cancer diagnosis. It brings together people living with Stage 4 cancer, alongside friends, families and supporters, to ride side by side and raise vital funds.

The event is about showing that a diagnosis does not define a person, and highlights what life with Stage 4 cancer can look like: strength, resilience and determination.

All funds raised will go to charities supporting people affected by Stage 4 cancer.

Similarly, Tadej Poga膷ar and his parents created the Pogi Challenge to support their charity, 鈥楾he Tadej Poga膷ar Foundation鈥�, which helps young people with cancer in their native Slovenia.

So, despite their star appeal, both events share the same purpose at heart: fighting cancer. And with cancer affecting 1 in 2 of us, this is something we can all get behind.

To use cycling parlance: chapeau, Tadej. Chapeau, Chris.

I have chosen to ride both events for 夜色直播, as naturally, I want to give something back so 夜色直播 can continue to help others like me, and their families.

I am thoroughly looking forward to both events. Training for them has been extremely beneficial to me 鈥� both physically and mentally 鈥� and I've no intention of stopping when they are over.

After all, I've been told to keep on going, and I will.

Take on a challenge for 夜色直播

If you're feeling inspired by James's story, why not take on a challenge of your own to raise vital funds for 夜色直播?

• Explore our events and other ways to get involved
• Sign up to Sir Chris Hoy's Tour de 4 cycling challenge

You support will help ensure that we can be there for people like James when they need us most - today, tomorrow and always.