WHAT I FEAR MOST

WHEN THE LONG WAY AROUND DEMANDS STILLNESS

INTRO

For as long as I can remember, I’ve found my way through.

No shortcuts. No easy exits. Just the long road and the will to keep moving.

But this chapter feels different. This one asks for something I’ve never been good at: waiting, listening, surrendering.

The reflection below is my attempt to put words to that fear — not as an ending, but as another bend in the road.

THE LONG WAY AROUND

All my life, I’ve had to find my own way through.

Growing up, nothing came easy. There were no shortcuts — only the long road. Every obstacle was something to be worked through, figured out, pushed past. When doors didn’t open, I learned to build my own path.

That became the blueprint:
When things hurt, you keep moving.
When things fall apart, you rebuild.
Motion was the medicine.

It took more than twenty years after stepping away from national-team skiing to finally resolve the chronic back pain that lived with me every day. Then came the hip. Then the Achilles. Each injury its own chapter. Each one measured in years — not weeks.

But I always found a way through.

That’s what endurance taught me:
No matter how long it takes, stay patient. Stay in it. The path will appear.

This time… is different.

Because now the struggle isn’t in my muscles or my joints. It’s in the very engine that’s always powered me.

The heart.

And that’s not something you simply outwork… or outwill.

THE MOMENT EVERYTHING CHANGED

One moment I was toeing a start line — chasing a qualifier, eyes on a world championship.
The next, I was under strict doctor’s orders: bed rest until the tests come back.

After two days without real improvement, it became clear this wasn’t something to “sleep off.” Guessing had to stop. Testing had to begin.

Getting in to see a cardiologist takes time. Finding real answers is rarely fast. But in the present moment — here and now — I am not improving. And that reality has to be respected.

Today, I sat down with my doctor to decide whether another trip to emergency was needed. Together, we chose the careful next step: more testing through Alberta Precision Labs, strict rest, and zero strain until there is clarity.

I’ve trained my whole life to handle movement, stress, pressure.

Now the work is:
Stillness
Patience
Listening

Calm is still fast — just in a different way.

Shauna and I even had to laugh when I handed her the doctor’s note — after all, she’s both my boss and my wife. Life has a sense of humour, even at its heaviest.

LEARNING STILLNESS

This is where the fear lives.

Not in pain…
Not even in uncertainty…

But in the possibility that, for the first time, there isn’t a way through by force of will.

That the path forward won’t be earned in sweat, but in surrender.

And yet — even with fear sitting beside me — I feel something else too.

Hope.

A quiet belief that somewhere inside this pause, there is purpose. That this stillness isn’t the absence of progress, but a different kind of work.

Maybe this chapter isn’t about miles…
Maybe it’s about listening.

Maybe the long way around this time isn’t measured in distance — but in depth.

In breath.
In rest.
In trust.

CLOSING REFLECTION

If you’ve ever faced a chapter you couldn’t outwork…
One you couldn’t push through…
One that demanded you stop instead of fight…

Then you already understand this place.

Sometimes the hardest road isn’t the one that tests your strength —
It’s the one that asks for your stillness.

And maybe…
that’s where the real rebuilding begins.