For the past decade, fall has been defined by a return to normalcy in my yearly rhythm. Following the controlled chaos of globe-trotting competition and the feverish compulsion shared by every Canadian to squeeze each possible moment of sun-drenched fun out of our northern-latitude summer, the cooling weather of autumn has a focusing effect on my psyche. As the toques and sweaters reappear from the back of the closet so, too, does the ability to synthesize an answer for that most inevitable of questions defining any social gathering of distance runners: What’s up next for you? Every year prior to this one, the answer to that question has been an easy one, recited with the practiced confidence of annual repetition (insert buzz words like “base building”, “rust buster”, “full reset” etc.). This fall, however, those tried and tested axioms no longer held the same familiarity or security as every year prior. My battered achilles, while improving, still weighed heavily on me as I resumed full training in September and, moreover, the prospect of rinsing and repeating the same annual course of action that had defined my life and career throughout adulthood was one that no longer sparked a fire in my belly. This year I knew I needed a change. It is difficult to find the words to describe my unsettledness without wrongly pinning my dissatisfaction on the community surrounding me for the last ten years in Vancouver. To be clear, in almost every way imaginable, the life I’ve lived here has been marked by a richness of relationships, experience, and beauty that far exceed what I believe most people ever have the privilege of experiencing, a richness I could never have anticipated cultivating in my own life. This city is where my deepest friendships have been formed, where I gained an education, found a life partner, honed my abilities as an athlete, and encountered layers of support on every side that have propelled me through a career that I know I will look back on with immense pride. Greater still, in my ten years calling Vancouver home I believe I have come to fully grasp who I am as a person, staking out the lines of my character with the guidance of friends, mentors, and loved ones to show me the way. My identity as a husband, a friend, an athlete, a coworker, each is indivisible from the place and the people that have shaped me to this point. With all that said, it is not lost on me how naïve, ungrateful, or downright callous the urge to change might seem. Yet the good reasons to stay are the very same reasons I feel ready to leave. For both myself and Cami, life has taken on a familiarity and predictability that—and I know this will warrant an eye roll for many—feels a bit too safe. For years I’ve followed the same game plan in my athletic career on repeat: chasing the same teams, attending the same camps, doing the same sessions. All the while the sport has changed rapidly around me and my response has been to stubbornly continue pushing up against that change in defense of familiarity and comfort. I’ve harboured grand goals for myself, stacking the chips high only to fold and cash out rather than risk it all and double down. In light of that, the year ahead will be one of wholesale change and a definitively new chapter in my life and career. Camille and I will be making the move south to Flagstaff, AZ full time, where I’m excited to be working with a new coach in Jon Green and turning my attention towards longer distances, both on and off the track. In many ways a move like this one has had the feeling of inevitability for years, though only more recently have I come to realize that the change we seek rarely arrives upon us without our first stepping out to meet it head on. I’ve felt the tugging on my heart for a shift —to varying degrees—dating back several years, but until now had made only lukewarm efforts towards bringing it to fruition; efforts that were eventually swept aside by a reversion to the relentless pace of life that accompanies deep rootedness in a place. Reiterating what I’ve already touched on, that gift of deep-rootedness is something that both Camille and I have come to appreciate more fully now that we’ve undertaken the inherently disruptive process of uprooting and replanting. While the uncertainties ahead are entirely self-imposed and trivial when compared with what so many face, for us they are daunting nevertheless. In the midst of the mixture of emotions we both feel towards moving we’ve been so blessed by the affirmation and encouragement of our community here in Vancouver. With a January 1 start date in our new city fast approaching, there are a few individuals in particular to whom I owe a special debt of gratitude. Camille – No one has endured the histrionics of my life as an athlete more acutely than my incredible wife. The highs have felt higher and the lows been made bearable by her unwavering support. She’s shouldered the heavy yoke of supporting my dreams with a grace and resolve that provide a wellspring of motivation for me each day. I am constantly struck by her generosity, sacrificing so much of herself so that I can be all-in during the finite window of opportunity afforded to me. Thank you, Camille, for undertaking so much for my sake and for grounding me in your steadfast love while simultaneously offering me space to keep my head in the clouds. CJ – To this point, my career as an athlete has been indivisible from my relationship with the coach who has guided me through every high and low for the past decade. CJ possesses that rarest of qualities as a coach, mentor, and friend: the ability to project a profound impact on the life of his charges whilst never asking anything in return. There has never been anything transactional about our coach-athlete relationship and when I reflect on our years together I am struck at how seamlessly he has infused the day-to-day practicalities of coaching with an even greater gift, that of his character, generosity of spirit, and deep compassion. I owe a great debt to him for the athlete he has formed me into, but an even greater one still for the model of integrity that he has set for me to aspire to. Try as I might I’m confident that I’ll never be half the coach CJ is, but to come even close to that measure as the man he is would be compensation enough. Nigel & The Vancouver Thunderbirds – When I undertook the role of club manager with the Vancouver Thunderbirds in the fall of 2019 I wondered at what it would look like to work in the sport of athletics as an athlete while simultaneously working on it as an administrator. Any early fears I may have had that one would come at the expense of, or in any way diminish, the other were quickly put to rest as I was welcomed into a rich community of athletes, coaches, volunteers, and families that spanned all ages, events, and abilities. In taking on the day-to-day operations of managing a club I was blessed to inherit a culture where community lay at the heart of every decision. In everything from athlete development to administration, the emphasis was always on process over outcome; doing right by the people that had invested in our cause and moving the sport that we all loved forward, even if only by the smallest of margins, each day. In fully buying into this collective ethos, I couldn’t help but see my perspective as an athlete change and expand. From a narrow focus on personal results and accolades it morphed into something far broader, encompassing an appreciation for the relationships and experiences that a life in sport offered to me, as well as the solidarity that came from being embedded in community with some 600+ other Thunderbirds all straining and striving together. A younger version of myself could not have grasped how dearly I would come to treasure the fly-by interactions on a rainy night at the UBC track with my T-Bird teammates of all ages, the way that athletes would stick around all day to cheer others on at cross country meets, or the gratification that comes with banding together to tackle a busy and messy manure sale fundraiser each spring. In bringing this incredible culture to life I, and every other TBird, owe a great debt to the selfless leadership of Nigel Hole. As a boss he offered me the grace to make mistakes and the wisdom to learn from them. More than that, he offered me a friendship that saw to the core of my circumstances through every high and low of the past 5+ years. While work typically served as the pretext for our near-daily phone calls, it rarely made up the substance of our conversations and his example of intentionality, commitment to personal development, and rigorous devotion to integrity are tenets that I hope to continue cultivating in my own life far beyond my time as an employee. The year is rapidly drawing to a close and, being the sucker for sentimentality that I am, I cannot help but feel pleased at the coincidence of timing that makes the new year the start of a new chapter in my life as well. I write these words having weathered the chaos of packing up a life in Vancouver and made it approximately 1/8th of the way to our new home in Arizona. With 2700km still to go we’re far from done, but the anticipation of the fresh start builds with each day and each milestone. There’s never a perfect time for change but now is the one we’ve chosen, we’re as young as we’ll ever be, and the open road ahead is calling our names. Ask me what’s up next for me this time and you’ll be in for a (characteristically) long-winded answer. See you in 2025!
1 Comment
12/26/2024 07:30:40 pm
"Onward and upward" as they say; all the best for this next chapter John, may it prove rewarding in every way for you and Camille.
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December 2024
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