When he told me, I felt a mix of shock, disbelief, anger and fear.

I told Pete I would do whatever was needed to help him through, but I honestly had no idea what that actually meant.

What I did next hopefully did.

I went home and took the test... you know the one I mean.

I am at an age where a free bowel cancer screening test is sent to me every two years.

I stupidly ignored the test first sent to me when I turned 50, but if there's anything that gets you motivated to take action, this was it.

Thankfully, my test came back clear, but Pete's cancer journey was only just beginning.

Radiation and surgery loomed large, so too working out how to tell people, what to actually tell people and who to tell.

What was going to happen, and when and how?

As a close confidant, it was difficult watching my best friend's life take such a dramatic twist, and I felt powerless to help.

The day Pete told the rest of our motley crew of about six or seven fellow cyclists that he had bowel cancer was equally tough.

I sensed his relief at being able to share his news, and our mates were just as shocked as I had been.

Stunned would be a more accurate description.

Stuff like this wasn't supposed to happen to blokes like us, and we like to think we are fitter than blokes a decade younger than us.

But this was the reality that proved cancer does not discriminate.

As Pete underwent radiation and then surgery - all here in Bendigo, we all fell into line behind him, determined to help keep his spirits up and to help in any way possible.

He had a pretty rough recovery, but his doctors always maintained a positive outlook and so we clung to that.

About six weeks after surgery, Pete made it back to the coffee shop to join the rest of us after we'd been for a ride.

Sometimes the seemingly most menial of tasks or moments assume far greater importance, and this was surely one of those occasions.

When I looked around the table that day, I saw a prostate cancer survivor, two blokes who had just quit their jobs to seek a better lifestyle, one who had just been made redundant, another who was about to transition away from the business he founded 25 years ago, and now, next to me, a bowel cancer survivor.

Life in your fifties throws up many challenges, and I couldn't imagine tackling them without family or friends.

The next day, Pete backed up his coffee shop appearance, this time for breakfast with us all.

I know it was a struggle, but God it was good to see him up and about.

Another mutual friend, himself a cancer survivor, but who until that moment was not aware of Pete's health issues, was genuinely shocked when he wandered into the coffee shop that morning and saw the impact cancer had wreaked upon Pete.

That moment will never leave me.

Sometimes, the unspoken says a lot more than words ever could.

Importantly, three months to the day after his first operation, Pete got back on his bike.

It might not been his quickest ride, but I reckon it was his most important one for a while.

Unbelievably, less than one in two Bendigo residents is listening to this important, and potentially lifesaving advice.

The incidence of bowel cancer in our region is higher than the average, possibly due in part to higher test participation rates.

Bowel cancer, if detected early, offers great hope for recovery and the resumption of a normal lifestyle.

Finally, as I write this column, Pete's prognosis is good and he's back at work.

In his case, early detection meant a better chance of a better diagnosis and thankfully, his life is slowly returning to normal.

Pete's journey should prompt more of us to take action for the sake of our health - if there's one thing we can all do, it has to be to help ourselves.

And to urge one another to stay informed on our health, and talk to one another.

It seems crazy that we have so many fundraisers, charity bike rides and fun runs to raise money to fight cancer and support cancer research, yet ironically, more than half of us don't even take advantage of a free test to see if we might have cancer in the first place.

So please, when the time comes... take the test.