I’ve had people ask me this question lots of times:
“What is your why?”
And, strangely enough, it has always kind of stumped me.
I knew what we did. I knew who we wanted to help. But explaining why? That made me stop and think.
What actually is my why?
Maybe I need to go back a little.
I always knew there would come a day when I would retire—and, if I’m being truthful, that scared me half to death.
What was I going to do with all that time?
I couldn’t exactly hang out at the CrossFit gym all day long.
As I began slowing down my career and saying no to more clients, I felt this pull to give back.
CrossFit and the fitness community have given me so much. In many ways, that community has given me my life back.
I knew I wanted to give something back to it.
I just didn’t know what that looked like.
Then I met up with a friend who had started a charity in another country. Her organization gave at-risk and underserved youth the opportunity to join her gym for free.
But they weren’t just given a free membership.
They were mentored. They had somewhere safe to be after school. They were nurtured, challenged and encouraged. They trained alongside other people and became part of a community.
Some of those kids even went on to become pretty amazing athletes.
That was it.
I remember thinking, “This is what I want to do.”
Maybe we wouldn’t have a brick-and-mortar gym. Maybe we could do it differently. What if we partnered with gyms throughout BC and helped young people access programs that were already there?
Because here’s something I kept thinking about.
There is funding available for sports like soccer, baseball and sometimes hockey—and those programs are incredibly important.
But what about the kid who doesn’t fit there?
What about the young person who isn’t interested in traditional team sports?
What about the kid who would thrive lifting a barbell, learning martial arts, climbing a mountain, riding a bike or discovering that they are stronger than they ever thought they were?
What if finances were the only thing standing between that young person and a community where they could belong?
What if we could remove that barrier?
That became part of my why.
But only part of it.
Because I’ve never wanted Harbourside to simply pay for kids to go to a gym.
I’ve always hoped there could eventually be another piece—mentorship, connection and helping young people discover not only what their bodies are capable of, but who they are.
Sport can open the door.
A coach can become a trusted voice.
A gym can become a place where someone notices when you don’t show up.
And belonging somewhere can begin to change the way you see yourself.
We want young people who might otherwise be overlooked to have an opportunity to walk through a door, discover what they’re capable of, find people who believe in them, and begin to believe in themselves.
We use fitness and sport to open that door.
But the door was never the destination.
It’s what can happen once a young person walks through it that matters.
