The following is a collection of written memories of Terry Fox Day from the grade twelve Writer’s Craft students. They were each originally written as individual stories, but have since been cut and combined to cover Terry Fox Day more effectively.

Photo by Stephen Heipel

Luis Keesmaat Freeman:

For the first time in 3 years, the whole school came together to run the Terry Fox Run. This treasured RSGC tradition had to be put on hold during the pandemic due to many safety precautions. Since the beginning of the pandemic, it was not only the first time we did the run as a whole school, but it was the first time we did anything as a whole school. Before this moment, the grade twelves had never had an opportunity to interact with the grade three students.

Elias Dimakos:

The screams of Junior School students with way too much energy way too early in the morning rang out as I approached an unrecognizable teacher dressed as the Flash—just a typical Terry Fox Day. As I arrived late to meet my advisor group, I claimed my running number and continued to the field where the vast majority of the student body was waiting. House captain candidates and prefects trying to rally their respective houses with face paint and hair spray called out to all students to join in on their makeshift mosh pit.

Sebastian Isaac-Gooden:

The spray paint can hissed, gleaming in the scattered sunlight. Running shoes scraped on the concrete and squeaked on the damp grass. Excited chatter filled the field. Paint flew through the air. Pins clicked.

Ben Furnish:

Walking into High Park for my tenth year at RSGC, the surroundings were the same. The smell of face paint whiffed through my nose, giving me serious nostalgia. Feelings of excitement were just as present as they were ten years ago when I desperately desired a silk shirt titled “Dirty Dozen.” Anyone outside the school would not understand this. However, for RSGC students, this day is a cherished tradition. Walking into my final Terry Fox run, the memories of years prior flooded my brain. In 2017, a legendary personal memory was made when I won my first-ever run and received an extra oversized shirt with the number one on the back. Receiving that shirt was one of those moments that immortalizes itself in one’s mind. The heated house events, coupled with the everlasting school spirit, made it a day that everyone grew to love and respect.

Photo by Steven Heipel

Elias Dimakos:

It was 8:30 A.M. Before long, with everyone’s faces painted horribly in their house colours, the races began, and like most races, I started strong before slowing down to a walk and just chatting with friends while teachers yelled to run from our rear. With a shrug, we ran and finished with a record-breaking time of 27 minutes and 38 seconds.

Luis Bowman:

It didn’t matter if you were at the front or the back, it just mattered that everyone was enjoying themselves. I didn’t run too fast, finishing at around the 30-minute mark. I had an appointment with my physiotherapist that morning, who had told me not to run hard. It gave me an excuse not to try too hard, so I wasn’t complaining.

Jack Ujejski:

A lot of people require different types of motivation to push themselves to do something. They require outside help in order to do things like a run, an essay, or even talking to people. They look through their mind for anything that will push them that extra five more meters and then do it again. It’s a repetitive process until they finally cross over that finish line. The run is not necessarily straining on my cardio, but it hits me hard on foot and ankle pain, and by the end of that big hill about a kilometer in, it hurts. I start to feel my ankles burn and the only thing that soothes them from the agony is David Goggins. He was my motivation to finish. Although harsh, he pushed me past the pain of my ankles and I finished happier than ever, and most importantly, without breaking once.

Simon Cox:

With much relief, I plopped myself down on the grass. I had just run more than I ever would have on my own, and while I was proud of myself, I was also perfectly content with sitting and not moving for an extended period of time. Slowly but surely, everyone else around me sat down too, and even more slowly, they stopped talking. (How did they still have enough air to talk?) The teachers in charge of shushing everyone finally stepped back, and someone with a microphone began speaking. We would be playing a series of games, we were told. This didn’t please me too much; At the time, I was in grade seven, my first year at the school, tired from running, and slightly miffed that I had lost my single pixel of visibility in the house photo. But that still happens now, and I’m six foot two. In fact, there very well may be no evidence that I ever attended a single Terry Fox run. Anyway, having only participated in games involving just my class, where most people were shy and unenthusiastic, I would much rather have gone home. Alas, I abided by the same rules as everybody else. A few minutes of corralling later and I was walking up to the tug-of-war rope, and this was where I noticed something about this game was different; Instead of reluctantly preparing, everyone was down low, two hands on the rope, arms clenched despite the match having not even started yet. I too, rather awkwardly, dropped myself into a position resembling that of an animé superhero preparing to hurl an orb of energy at their adversary. Or, to put it more simply, I just kind of bent down and squatted a bit.

Lukas Bowman:

While the run itself was a ton of fun, the best part of the day, in my opinion, was the tug of war. I am in York House. Our Junior School team came second and our 9/10 team came 4th, so we knew that the seniors had to pick up the slack. And we did. We won the tug of war using a strategy that Daniel Anderson came up with. We would scream “1… 2… PULL!” Every time we shouted “pull,” we would all pull as hard as we could, and we would always go back by about an inch. We repeated this until we won. I am a competitive person, so winning the tug of war, along with the house spirit, made this my favourite part of the day. Overall, Terry Fox Day was a ton of fun. I enjoyed all parts of it, and I’m sad to say that I won’t be able to experience another one.

Photo by Steven Heipel

Ben Furnish:

Following the victory, my muscles felt like jelly. My body could barely bring itself to its feet, trudging through the long grass to compete in the ever-intense tug of war. The tug was the event for bragging rights. This was where boys became men. Digging my heels into the sticky soil, I was a tree in a forest. On one side stood my 17-year-old big brother. On the other side was the 240-pound varsity rugby captain with sticky facepaint dripping down his entire body. At first, I felt intimidated and anxious. Nevertheless, as the tug began, house spirit and tenacity took over, and the rest was history. Out of my ten years at RSGC, this was the only tug our house (Westminster) had ever won. This was a critical moment when the realization came; this school was my second home. That sunny, bright, humid September day is a day that will be cemented into my RSGC memories forever.

Fraser Canavan:

Tug of War has been a loved tradition at RSGC for many years. It is the epitome of school spirit. The game involves strength, grit, and endurance. to tug this impenetrable rope fully to one side for your team to win. The rough grip leaves calluses on your hands that take days to heal, but the memories in exchange for the pain are all the more worth it. The marshall blows his whistle, the rope is lifted, and expressions of pain and strength overcome the kid’s faces, tugging with all their might in hopes of winning. On the sidelines, house captains, prefects, teachers, and students cheer you along, chanting your house name with all their hearts, motivating you to pull even harder, to make your house proud. The ribbon crosses the pylons, the whistle blows, and a rush of yelling and chanting overpowers the boys, screaming for victory because they’ve won it all. The sweat from the boys’ faces covers their faces, their knees weak, and their clothes dirty from falling. The boys don’t notice the pain, their adrenaline rushing through their veins, their faces engulfed in the sensation of pain, later succumbing to smiles, laughing, cheering, and hugging. Tug of War is a sport of grit and integrity; it is a sport to be celebrated for years to come because memories like these only come ever so often. 

Simon Cox:

A whistle blew, we all pulled, and the crowd of older boys surrounding us erupted. Cheering, yelling, and giving us essential advice like “pull,” the most entertaining part of the tug-of-war wasn’t the tugging. Heck, I don’t even remember who won. What I do remember is the older boys yelling and jumping around and making fools of themselves in the best way possible: the way that made me want to make a fool of myself too!

Luis Keesmaat Freeman:

After everybody had finished their run around High Park, it was time for my favorite part. A game, as far as I know, that never had a name. As we lined up next to the Junior School boys, you could see the excitement on their faces as we got ready to race. After finding a young boy to be my partner, I knelt down next to him to discuss strategy. After thinking up the most effective way to get our dodgeball across the field without using our hands (as this is what the game entailed), we got in line. It was our turn to go. I swiftly picked up the little grade 3 in my arms and he grabbed the dodgeball and put it on his chest, and we took off. As I ran over to the bucket, the little kid giggled and laughed with each rough step I would take. Connecting with the younger kids is such an important part of our school culture, and is something that I am looking forward to doing again in the future. 

Photo by Steven Heipel