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In February 1994, when I was 47, my medical oncologist diagnosed me with severely advanced Hodgkin’s disease (lymphatic cancer). I was a nonsmoker and nondrinker.

“Without treatment, you won’t survive ’til the end of the year, ” he told me in a soft, matter-of-fact statement. He sentenced me to eight months of harsh and aggressive chemotherapy, which meant I lost all my hair and threw up a lot. I endured 16 treatments of eight chemotherapy drugs in each poke. Just before my first treatment, my family doctor insisted that I get a pneumonia shot because my immune system would be completely compromised. Some cancer patients succumb to illnesses like colds and flu that most healthy people can ward off.

Two Lessons

My life until that point was going reasonably well. I was married to Caroline, we had two children together (a daughter, Jodi, and a son, Chris), and I was enjoying my broadcasting career. But I wasn’t discovering all the wonderful and exciting things that life offers, and I wasn’t fully exploring my talents and gifts. Then I learned two life lessons.

The most important is that for some things in life, there are no answers. I never once asked, “why me?” The other critical point is that it’s our response to events in life that is important, not the events themselves. We usually don’t have control over things that happen, but we can choose to be either victims or victors in life, and our attitudes pave the way for how we live and think.

Turning Point

The pivotal point in my life occurred in August 1994, when I was six months into my treatments. At that time, I couldn’t walk for more than 10 minutes because of the debilitating effects of the chemo. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I choked out to Caroline, “I’m going to do this someday.” My healing spark was lit.

My treatments concluded a few months later. I was battered, bruised, and sore, but not bowed. I began my rehabilitation a couple of weeks after my final poke by going skating and playing hockey. I started Ironman training in September 1995, and learning to swim was on the top of my list of things to do. The Ironman distances are a 2.4-mile swim, a 112-mile bike ride, and a 26.2-mile marathon. All three segments must be concluded in less than 17 hours for a triathlete to earn a Finisher’s Medal.

On Sunday, August 25th, 1996, I crossed the finish line of my first Ironman in just over 16 hours. While cold, hungry, limping, and sweat-filled, my metamorphosis and rebirth occurred. It was the most special night of my life. Caroline put the medal around my neck, and the four of us hugged and cried in jubilation together. Jodi said, “Boy, dad, do you stink!”

Living My Best Life

Because of my faith, family, and friends, I not only survived my cancer ordeal but have since completed another Ironman (in 2000), written two books on my experiences, and spoken across Canada and the U.S. on behalf of the Canadian and American cancer societies. I’ve also started my own hard-rock band, taken up watercolor painting again (and started selling my works), and at the age of 62, just completed a year-long intensive body-building program.

I’m in the best shape of my life on every level–the physical, mental, creative and spiritual–and I’m having fun and living my best life!

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