It was in February 2007 and I had lost loads of weight and was training for the London Marathon. I was training hard and felt and was looking good. There was just this one thing, this lump at the top of my thigh. I’d had it for about 6 weeks and thought it was a hernia or something. It didn’t hurt, so I paid it no mind.
The now Mrs Nestor saw it and absolutely insisted I go to the doctor. Now as us “real men” know, the GP’s surgery is a place for women and small children. Anyway just to shut her up, I went and was sent for a biopsy. They cut a hole in my leg and told me I had cancer.
It’s the tenth anniversary this year and I plan to write extensively about my experience later but let’s just say that it was 6 months of agony and mental torture. One day when things got really bad, I made a deal with god….If I survive, every year, I will do something for charity.
Here it is: in 2012 I ran, hobbled,crawled the London marathon and raised funds for the ACLT