43rd birthday reflection!

Age 42 has come and gone. It started off in a world closed down by pandemic, it ended in a world more open, but still in a pandemic. Strange times.

It was, on some levels a tough year for me. My work excites me, but it also demanded a lot as my team was continually reshaped, our employees came and went and we’ve had difficulty finding the right people for several key roles on my team. So I’ve been wearing more hats than I’d like.

One thing that has allowed me to do more work is the fact that at age 42.3 yrs, I inherited my first-ever case of tennis elbow (less sport = more work!). I can only attribute this to advancing age. I’ve always taken part in sports that have heavy reliance on repetitive arm motions: volleyball, kayaking, rowing. Well, this past February, I got a very bad case of tennis elbow.

Like, real bad.

How bad?

Well, here’s a test for you: Place your hand flat on a surface, palm facing down, and spread your fingers out just slightly. Lift your middle finger off the table. Does that feel like a dragon is simultaneously scorching your arm with fire and ripping its claws through your flesh? No? Okay, well, that’s basically the acute level my tennis elbow got to in a very short period of time.

“Just use your other hand for stuff!” said everyone. A lovely idea but a crock of ablest bullsh*t to a guy missing most of his fingers on his left hand 😜.

Hans Moleman,
or picture of Stu? 

I gave up rowing last winter very quickly because of this. No repetitive motion or weight bearing in that hand for months on end, only the slightest of stretching exercises, and finally after consult with a rheumatologist, two rounds of corticosteroid injections over the course of a couple of months to finally bring the swelling under control.

These days, I’m very slowly, very carefully as per doctor’s instructions, reintroducing repetitive movement and weight bearing to the arm. I’d like to say I kept my cardio in excellent shape during all this time of very little strength training, but way back at the start of the summer I also blew my back. I’m just now back to riding bikes and jogging with comfort again.

Long story short, I’m on the mend. I look forward to returning to rowing hopefully in the new year, because I have A LOT of unfinished business in that sport, and in the meantime, I’m getting better each day and psyched for 43! Happy Birthday to me!

The Canada Summer Games: a 25th anniversary reflection

It has been 25 years since the worst/best sporting event of my life, the 1997 Canada Summer Games. 

Hosted in Brandon Manitoba, I had secured a spot on the British Columbia sprint canoe/kayak team, kind of a big deal for a then-17-year-old. 

Alas, when it came down to the week of competition, if it could go wrong, it did. 

Two weeks before the Games, I lost my paddle (stolen from an airport). It's a pretty specialized piece of equipment, with blade angles just how you like them, and length proportionate to one's height and wingspan (in my case, much longer than your average). Think of it like a road cyclist having their bike stolen and having to borrow a mountain bike that's too small to race in for the foreseeable future. 

That was strike one. 

Strike two was a little more within my own control, I realize after many years of retrospect. There was a coach who was not accredited as Canada Games coaching staff who was nonetheless there, and they--for whatever reason--chose to spend a lot of their time harassing my partner and I about equipment. Seats and a footboard for a particular boat, to be specific, which were under the control of an equipment manager. If I'd been better mentally prepared I would have ignored it, but I guess I wasn't so I let it get to me. It sounds small but it was a huge distraction.

One main race I was there to take part in was a team boat race: my "K2" (two-person kayak) partner, Doug, and I were going to be racing in a six-kilometre K2 race. 

Strike three came when Doug blew out his shoulder and couldn't race. We were both devastated. He, because he and I had been training for this "forever", and now he had to be replaced. I was happy to race with another young and speedy paddler named Matthew, but we had never trained in K2 before, so it was bound to be "not as smooth". Keep in mind I was currently using a borrowed paddle that was too short for me, so I was already "not as smooth". 

The team, hanging around (I still wear my
Team BC track pants today!)

Usually, three strikes and you're out. But we still had to race. Strike four was just around the corner.  

The lake we were on (Lake Minnedosa, if you've ever had the pleasure), was angry on race day. Whitecapping waves being driven by strong gusty winds. A rowing regatta would be cancelled outright on a day like this, but not canoe/kayak! Get out there and hope you don't sink!

With or without the right partner, the podium was not really in sight for this race for us. The superpowers at the time were from Nova Scotia, Ontario and Saskatchewan (The Ontario team had some kid named Adam Vankoeverden and he was in this 6K K2 race). Therefore, we were just going to do what we could. 

A 6K race involves doing laps of the race course. Each boat starts on a line, and as it's safe to do so, you move to the outside of the "track" and then start doing laps in a counter-clockwise fashion. 

The start was into the headwind, so it was slow and messy as everyone fought to get boatspeed, and then worked to move to the outside as soon as possible. 

The year Kate and I started dating! 
Here she was on the 
Canada Games podium (as she was 
for many of her races!)

Lining up took a while, everyone trying to maintain the line with the wind blowing hard in our faces. The starting official did their best, and then pulled the trigger. We were off.

Matthew and I were a few hundred meters into our race when our rudder cable snapped. We had done our equipment checks prior to racing. This was not an identified problem. 

Matthew, in the driver's seat and I in the back, were all of a sudden without steering. Facing into a wind, that's not too big a deal; your rudder will generally stay straight. But once we would be rounding the first corner and coming back down the course in a tailwind, we knew that a loose rudder would put us to the mercy of the wind. We stopped paddling, had a mild freakout and decided within seconds if we were going to push on or quit. 

Despite shit hitting the fan, it wasn't really a choice. At that age, you work for years to get to a race like this, no matter the circumstances. We decided to keep going. And just then, a stroke of luck (paddling pun intended). As the teams jockeyed for position as they edged toward the outside lane, Saskatchewan and Ontario had "incidental boat contact". With the high wind, it was all it took to dump them both in, and the pack of other boats continued on up the course. The paddlers in those flipped boats started to fistfight, right there in the water in front of us. Matthew and I did the quick mental math. They were rightfully upset; they were two of the top three medal contenders. With their chances now sunk (or, sinking, I guess), lil' old British Columbia now had a shot at a podium spot. This reinforced our decision to keep going, and so we did. 

Leif Einarson, scoring one of the only
medals our men's kayak team 
managed to pull in

Spurred on by this thought, we charged ahead as best we could. We knew we had a lot of catching up to do, and we knew that every 1,000 meters we had to put in on the downwind stretches would be brutal. 

Nova Scotia was off and long gone. They were most likely to win; that was established within the first kilometre of the race. As for the rest, it felt pretty wide open. Quebec was strong and going for it, Alberta and Manitoba were in it too. 

It was Alberta that became our main competition for what appeared to be a bronze medal. Each lap for us was hope and heartbreak, over and over again. In the headwind, we would gain on, and pass Alberta, moving us into a bronze medal spot. but each time we ended up in the tailwind, steerage became a disaster. I in the back would have to stop paddling at regular intervals and dive a blade into the water to act as a rudder, while Matthew used all his power to keep paddling. At times, I would paddle only on one side instead of rudder to at least keep both of us moving. But it was all for nought. Alberta overtook us each time we were in the downwind, and the challenge would start all over again for us when we turned the corner and headed upwind again. We swung between 3rd and 4th place for the 30 or so minutes of our race. We, along with all the other boats, also got swamped by waves and were absolutely soaked, water sloshing around inside our hulls and spray whipping off our paddles and slashing our bodies. 

In the end, the final stretch was... downwind. We could not hold off Alberta, and they crossed the line a few boat lengths ahead of us. 

The race course was a way offshore. We slunk our way back, exhausted and devastated that our chance to medal slipped away from us in the way it did. As we neared shore, people were cheering wildly. I couldn't understand why. There were pats on the back and whoops of congratulations. I had no idea why they were so elated. I was depressed beyond all measure. 

Matthew and I geared down. We shook hands.

And then we hid.

I found a quiet corner in a tent under a pile of boat bags. I sobbed quietly to myself. I did not want to be found. 

It's hard to explain why it hurt as much as it did. We weren't in line for a medal to start with so to not get one in the end maybe shouldn't have been such a problem. Maybe it was the cumulative pain of all the other elements that went wrong. 

At any rate, it left me in a funk for days, which wasn't how I wanted to be as my other friends and teammates celebrated their successes and strong races. From the photos you see in this blog post, some you see smiles, some you don't. The ones you see are most likely fake. 

***********

Today, I see "The race" in a different light. I appreciate that I went out and busted my ass, did something really hard, and that's enough. I know that type of attitude has served me well in other sports, and in family and work life, too. Running toward the danger is character-building. 

One of the real surprise moments about the race came to me two decades later when I was at national championships in Welland Ontario in 2017. As a then-mature-masters/para paddler, I spent time talking to some of the "older folks" hanging around the race site during the week, including some people who were witnesses to the ill-fated K2 race some 20 years earlier. 

"Some of the gutsiest paddling I've seen. It was incredible to watch." 

I was gobsmacked. 

I'd had people say that sort of thing soon after the race, but it felt like some conciliatory statement to cheer me up at the time. A patronizing pat on the back. 
But here I was, decades later, and this stranger offers up to me that not only do they recall the race, but they qualify it as being memorable. 

Oddly that race has come up again a few times since, also in conversation with people whom I didn't know at the time and certainly didn't know were watching. They remember the battle for 3rd and 4th place, and the performance of the pair from B.C. as the highlight of that race...  a highlight from that whole regatta. 

That's certainly added another layer to the value of that race for me. I'm glad I can look back on that race, now 25 years ago and recognize that ultimately, not only was it character-building to me, but it meant something to other people as well. Yeah, I'd like to have a medal for my troubles. But by now, I recognize the reward I was given for that effort. 

To all the athletes taking part in this year's Canada Games, 25 years after my own experience, I wish you all the best. May the wind be at your backs in all the best ways, your rudders (for the kayakers) properly affixed in your boats, and remember: even if it doesn't go well, you maybe just have to wait a while to see the true results of your efforts. It'll be worth it, eventually, I promise.  

The B.C. Canoe-Kayak team for the 1997 Canada Summer Games
I'm in back, centre with the flag. Tall guys in the back, as always. 

Wendy, that woman on the other end of my video conference screen.

It was a weird feeling, to send a text to Wendy on July 5th, her birthday. I struggled with it for a while; wondering whether or not to send it all. It was hard to get the wording right, knowing it would be the last birthday she got to spend on earth. 

I also had a nagging sense of imposter syndrome, having never met Wendy in person. Why would I send this text at all? 

Perhaps I should go into a little more detail. 

I was first introduced to the name of Wendy Roberts in 2019, when our working worlds collided. I, in my role with Make-A-Wish BC & Yukon, and she with her role with Children's Wish Foundation of Canada. Our two organizations merged in October of that year, and all of a sudden, we were colleagues. Wendy in Ontario and me in B.C. and before long Wendy and I were collaborating on things like press releases and text for donation web pages. 

As it happens when organizations merge, there are a lot of people who move around. Somewhere in the shuffle, I moved off the BC team and onto the Make-A-Wish Canada national team. And there was Wendy, and she and I were teammates on a much closer scale. 

But you guys, I don't know if you know, but this thing called the COVID-19 pandemic hit somewhere in the middle of all this, thus putting the kibosh on any plans to meet our newly formed teams in person. Little could we have known at the time, but COVID would thus ensure Wendy and I never got to meet in person, along with numerous other colleagues who would not have the pleasure. 

At this point, you're likely thinking that she succumbed to COVID. Not so. I'm coming to that. 

First, more about Wendy. Importantly, not meeting in person does not diminish the fact that this was a woman that you could really get to know. She was just one of those wonderfully open people, a book full of warmth, humour, insight, intelligence and charm. Our relationship, therefore, was online... but it was a great relationship. 

I loved meeting with Wendy. And in our roles, we had daily reasons to do so. Whether working on press materials, gathering materials for staff meetings or hunkered down in the trenches of issues management work, you couldn't help but be glad to be in Wendy's presence. .

Work aside, there was always time for a chat. Hearing about what her husband, Andre was up to, keeping up to date on her twin girls Taylor and Alicia, or chatting about her dad (COVID kept her from visiting family in the Maritimes for too long, but she managed to travel back when restrictions eased). You could chat with Wendy with the ease of a friend... which she truly was. Weekend plans, TV shows, the weather, politics. 

For the past several months, though, I've had no occasion to meet with Wendy. We've exchanged texts and photos through our thumbs on our cell phones, but Wendy has been off work as she had the biggest task of her life to deal with: a diagnosis of stage four pancreatic cancer. I don't know if you know much about pancreatic cancer--I'm not about to go into details--but it can be swift. And for Wendy, it was. 

On July 19th, 2022 she passed away peacefully surrounded by her family. I am at loose ends this week, feeling a deep sense of loss for, remarkably, someone I never even got to give a hug to "in real life". But as I said, this did not diminish our ability to get to know one another, even to love someone. On her birthday, I told her so. 

"I am glad you were born," I said. "Celebrating you today," I said, amongst a few other pleasantries. Some things you don't get another chance at, so you better say what you're wanting to say when you have time to say it. 

And truly, I am glad she was born and that our life paths crossed when and how they did. I will not wallow in disappointment that we never met in person, but rather will let my heart be full of love for knowing the remarkable 'Wendy' at all. She was a gift in my life, to be sure. 

In her final act of kindness, Wendy wanted to keep paying it forward. One of her daughters, you see, was a wish recipient a few years back. It was that event that eventually drew Wendy to the work that she was doing, and the reason I had to meet her. That's how the universe works, after all. It is Wendy's wish that this work of granting wishes keeps going. She requested that a fund in lieu of flowers be set up to collect donations for Make-A-Wish, so that another child facing critical illnesses may come to know the joy of a granted wish. If you feel so moved as to contribute to her noble goal, you can do so here. 

Wendy and I would end off all of our calls be they collegial or casual in pretty much the exact same way. 

"Okay, my friend," she would preface the conclusion, "Nice talking to you/have a good afternoon/weekend/we will chat again very soon," and always signed off with "take care, bye for now." 

I can hear her voice now. I have missed it for months, but today, I really miss it. I will continue to miss it in days to come. 

Okay, my friend. Take care. Bye for now (and all my love). 

Photo courtesy of Petra King Photography

2021 roundup

 The intention this year was to send physical cards and letters. No, really, it was. 

But enough dwelling on the past. On to plan B, the digital Christmas Letter. 

Wait... this will be entirely about dwelling on the past. Okay, whatever. 

It's. Been. A. Year since I updated this blog. Remember all of those folks who seemed soooo excited to put 2020 behind them and ring in the new year, and how great 2021 was going to be? Oh, how quickly the universe silenced those who showed such optimism! Our world went through another tumultuous twelve months (stating the obvious, here... duh)... but among it, some definite bright spots for our household.

He's tall enough WITHOUT skates on... 

Starting with the kids: The Boy completed his elementary career and moved into the high school this September. Here in British Columbia, we've been incredibly lucky to have had our schools remain open throughout the vast majority of the pandemic. The change to a high school environment has forced Sacha to up his game in terms of time management. Not only are there multiple subjects and teachers with homework demands, but he also has the addition of playing on an ice hockey team for the first time (as well as soccer, two days a week). The hockey is a no-contact league so it's very well-natured, and keeps Sacha entertained two to four nights a week, depending on what seemingly random schedule gets dreamt up by the league on a week-to-week basis (please insert parental snark tones as needed). Other than school and sporty extracurriculars, Sacha's other noteworthy achievement for the year is that he has grown taller than his mother, and his shoe size has kept pace with his height, to boot (footwear pun intended). 

Heidi showing off one of her
sewing creations! 

The Girl is in grade six this year and is enjoying a dynamic school environment with some very strong friendships blossoming out of her time in class. The school she was in a few years back was a NIgHtMaRe and we're very glad she's doing well in her current institution. An avid reader, Heidi is often found with a book in hand which fuels her creative mind. Outside of the classroom, she's taken a shine to the art of sewing and has been taking after-school classes in a local sewing shop, crafting item after item of various descriptions from bags to dresses and pyjamas. Good fun that keeps her well entertained! Though no longer the season for it, we obtained a trampoline for our backyard this past year (you know, like every other family in a pandemic), and Heidi spent HOURS out there, either on her own, or bouncing happily with the two younger kids who live downstairs. Speaking of younger kids, Heidi also got her babysitting certification during the summer, and is ready to make some money once she turns 12. The kids in the basement suite are the perfect test market, and we look forward to H become a revenue-generating family member!

As for Kate, there's never a dull moment. As CEO of her own non-profit serving children with autism and other complex special needs, she is equal measures active therapy provider, administrator, accountant,  human resources director, development coordinator and office janitor. The latter services were occasionally required when intense rains would cause flooding in her old office, but HAPPILY, Kate has moved into a brand new space in recent weeks, custom renovated to the unique needs of clinicians and clients, with triple the space and zero the leakage. The move to the larger environs is a testament to the growth she has stewarded in Nurture Learning and Development in the past several years and is most deserved. As if that weren't enough, Kate is also the CHP here at home (Chief Homework Parent) as most of the kids' school assistance requires French or mathematics... both subjects in which I was either a literal or at least philosophical failure in my own school days. I am forever grateful--and in her debt--that she possesses the skills to help our children in these subject areas. Kate also continues to engage her adjunct professorship skills through a Fall sessional course at the University of British Columbia in the Masters of Speech Pathology program, the likes of which has just concluded for the year. Kate tends to use her bike to get her most everywhere she goes, and spent vast amounts of free time this past year keeping our gardens beautiful, and veggie patch robust. To say the least, there's no moss growing on this stone, though Kate is looking forward to closing up shop on her clinic, closing the textbooks of all descriptions, and hitting the slopes for a bit of skiing over the holiday break! 

A couple of stunners right here 😍

My life has remained essentially unchanged since the last update I put on this blog last year. I continue, very happily, to work from home for Make-A-Wish. Perhaps the significant difference there is that I have been elevated from our regional office up into the seat of the national director of brand marketing and communications for Make-A-Wish Canada. I'm incredibly satisfied with the work I get to do each day at the helm of this organization's marketing and communications efforts, and I get to do it wearing sweatpants if I so choose to do so. Halleluia. As I spend so much time in the house, I am the chief dogwalker, grocery shopper, cook and laundry patron of this household and I'm very pleased to be so.  I DID return to rowing back in the spring; what a treat it was to get back out on the water after such a hiatus, though having a rowing machine on loan and in our house for 18 months was an exceptional gift for my personal fitness as I worked from home. I look forward to continuing my development in the sport in the coming year... given all the inconsistency I've experienced in accessing boats and coaching, I'm actually still quite a crappy rower :P. 

So there you have it. The past year has had it's "moments". "Heat Domes" brought catastrophic fire damage to forests and communities in our region. "Atmospheric Rivers" brought catastrophic flooding, highway washouts, ruined homes and farms and gasoline shortages, and COVID variants bring constantly fluctuating social norms and allowances. We're exceptionally grateful for vaccines (the provincial rollout of such being tirelessly coordinated by none other than Kate's saint of a mother who has worked 10-14 hour days in the past two years relentlessly to help us all get shots in our arms), for steady incomes, a protective home environment, and a bit of family close by to keep us connected in what at times seems to be an otherwise unsure world.

We know exactly how lucky we are, and we know that it has been another tough year for so many people. The world has so many issues to sort through, socially, environmentally, medically, politically. There is NO way I am going to jinx things by suggesting that 2022 is going to be our freedom from all the circumstances plaguing our world, but I WILL go so far as to wish a happy holiday to all, and pray that some peace finds each of you during this season, and into the next calendar year. 

Please enjoy this dimly lit family photo

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year, from the Chases. As per usual, in lieu of a physical card, please enjoy our video greeting! ... Plan B, you see? 

End-of-the-year roundup

Christmas 2020 is upon us, and with it, way past due time to do a blog update! What's happened this year... hmmm... anything noteworthy? I've just sort of been sitting at home for the last nine months. 

Oh, right. That COVID-19 thing. 

Honestly, we as a family are as lucky and privileged as anyone could hope, given the circumstances. Stable housing, food security, steady incomes... that's the 2020 Trifecta right there, I think. 

Kate did have to shut down her clinic immediately back in March, but was able to re-open to limited in-person service by June. In the early days, Kate learned A LOT, very quickly, about the government employment benefit program and got her staff on board asap, and they moved to as virtual a service delivery model as was possible. Kate kept things interesting by completely obliterating he right wrist in a ladder fall on the same day her clinic was to reopen. Not one to let moss grow, she was doing her company payroll that very night, juiced up on Tylenol. 

She had to wait a few days for surgery (She has some lovely metal in her wrist now, and has healed up pretty well), and we discovered that Kate is quite the lightweight when it comes to anesthesia! Once, and ever since, she was able to return to her work properly "infection control" has become the name of the game on top of the regular work: making sure everyone is following protocols, calling in sick as necessary and getting swabbed as needed. It's a constant stressor, but it's being very well managed. Kate doesn't always sleep well, staring at the ceiling wondering what the next day will bring... luckily, Kate has never been one to buckle to a challenge, and she's powering through! 

Outside of work... well, what can we say. No travel, no visits, lots of walks and a summer spent in and on the water. Now that it's colder, still ON the water on our oarboard, but not IN the water anymore. The walks continue, of course, albeit in the rain more often than not!  

As for both the kids, like everyone else it was a long haul through the spring with home schooling and both Kate and I working full time. both kids went back to school this fall and so far, so good. Sacha is in his second year of late French immersion and it's going very well. He also returned to soccer in September, though play is limited. Something is better than nothing, however! 

Heidi started at a new, small school this year and it's been great. With only a few kids in her class, it minimizes the concerns for infection control, and she's getting a really great variety of subjects and educational units. She's learning everything from guitar to urban design. Pretty cool stuff. 

As for me, I've been happily ensconced in my home office since the whole COVID mess came to Canada's doorstep in March. My work has translated very well to a virtual environment, and we at Make-A-Wish have been able to turn our fundraising efforts into virtual offerings for the most part. Our revenues are down, but the work is engaging and satisfying. 

I haven't been to the rowing club since March, but as above, our oarboard has been taken out for regular jaunts, and we also have a rowing machine on loan here at the house. I'm lacking in strength training but I'm well-exercised otherwise! I don't tend to leave the house but for daily exercise, or for groceries once a week--I'm a model of good behaviour in COVID times 😉The dog is in heaven, with someone at the house to keep him company all day every day! 

We did all manage to get away for a couple of nights camping in the summer; an easily socially-distanced endeavour! We were treated to a couple of nights of wonderful weather and time together in the woods. You can check that out in video form here, if you like! We also camped beach-front on vancouver Island while having a distanced visit with Kate's dad for a few nights, but that video is yet to be edited 😁 

One other significant and exciting thing to take place this year was the completion of a laneway house in the backyard, into which Kate's mum and her partner have moved into it as of September. Between us, them and the family of four living in our basement suite, we have 10 people living on this property! Gentle urban densification at its finest! 

In closing, we know not all have had an easy a time during this pandemic, with isolation, job security, mental health, addictions and abuse issues being real threats to many. To those who have struggled and are struggling, we're looking forward with you, and for you, especially, to a time when there's enough vaccine to go around, loved ones aren't getting sick, schools are back to normal as are so many other aspects in society. In the meantime, we'll do what we're supposed to do: keep to ourselves as much as possible, have a very quiet Christmas and New Years, and keep on doing what we're doing right on into 2021.

Speaking of Christmas, here's our annual excuse for not mailing out cards to anyone: the
Chase Family video Christmas Card, 2020 edition. 

On that note, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.