He’s 46, young and healthy, the proud father of teens Kevin and Cam. In his leisure hours, Ginther enjoys active, stamina-testing hobbies like mountain biking and running. He’s a busy, self-employed owner of a thriving business, follows a healthy diet and quit smoking 14 years ago.

The other men waiting for a biopsy were older, well into their 60s, probably retired. They’d already had the opportunity to watch blissfully as their children reached adulthood and married. They’d already cuddled that precious first grandchild in their protective, loving arms.

Prostate cancer never once crossed Ginther’s mind as the reason for his stomach problems. It was an older man’s cancer; nothing that might threaten his way of life.

“I didn’t fit the mold going in,” said Ginther. “In the waiting room, I thought, ‘What am I doing here? Everybody looks so much older.’ I wasn’t even thinking prostate cancer. There was no doubt in my mind that I didn’t have cancer.”

But about four weeks after the biopsy, on the morning of Oct. 7, 2009, Ginther received the telephone call that has sidelined his busy life for the past couple of months. The doctor on the other end of the phone explained the options for treatment and the Gleason scale for grading prostate cancer.

Ginther heard very little.

“All I heard was cancer, and I thought, ‘I’m dying.”

Loving wife Laura returned to the couple’s Dundas home from work. They sat in the living room, had a good cry, held each other.

“I thought, ‘Why me?’” said Ginther. “I’m a pretty good guy. How did this happen to me?

“And I was scared because there was the possibility that I could be dying, that I might not be on this side of the terra firm much longer.”

After some independent research and a consultation with his physician, the Ginthers were buoyed by the news research had progressed to the point that the survival rate for prostate cancer showed reason for optimism.

“I felt more at ease as I started to understand the disease. You just hear cancer, but then I found out more.”

Ginther had three options — “watch and monitor,” radiate the cancer or remove the prostate. After careful consideration of all the risks and consequences, Ginther decided to have a prostatectomy.

The operation took place Jan. 14 through Princess Margaret Hospital at Toronto General.

Recovery has been slow and gradual, but Ginther’s feeling a bit better every day. He has a scar from his belly button to his pubic bone, but so far there is no evidence of such difficulties as erectile dysfunction or incontinence. Nearby tissue around the prostate is cancer free.

Ginther was scheduled for his first post-op appointment on March 3. So far the outlook is promising. He’s eager to go back to the gym, climb on his bike and go for a run along the Rail Trail. As a means of saying thanks for the excellent care he received and to further the efforts of cancer researchers, Ginther, his brother, Scott, and family friend Mark van den Eerenbeemt have signed up for the Great Ride to Conquer Cancer. Each member of their Life Behind Bars’ team must raise $2,500 to participate. The team, named for the three men’s passion for cycling, will ride the event’s longest route, covering 330 kilometres from Toronto to Niagara Falls June 12-13. Visit conquer cancer.ca/goto/kent. ginther to make a donation on line or call 877-699- BIKE. Ginther’s participation ID number is 547730-6. And while Ginther remains optimistic about his recovery, he has a message for other men his age.

“Don’t wait until you’re 50 (for the PSA test). While 83 per cent of all prostate cancer victims are 60 and older, unfortunately they’re seeing younger and younger guys. Men in their 30s and 40s is not abnormal anymore.

“Spend the $30. It’s well worth it. It’s a simple blood test. They draw blood, and boom, away you go.”