Ben Legault

Walk 90 km in September

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This September I'm walking and fundraising for Heart & Stroke, and I can’t do it alone. Every donation, big or small, brings me one step closer to my fundraising target.

Will you join me in making a difference? 🙌

Together, we can make every beat count! đź’Ş

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Beyond the Survivor: Part 5; Nerd Alert - The Research

Tuesday 15th Sep

Beyond The Survivor — Part 5

Nerd Alert — The Research

92km

Well…

My watch started making all kinds of noises, alerting me that I had reached the challenge goal. You'd think I would be relieved, and yet I'm not fully satisfied…

More on that later in the blog.

For now, let's nerd it up.

Your generous donated dollars and the RESEARCH.

If you've read my previous blogs, this probably won't come as a surprise.

I'm a nerd.

More specifically, I'm the kind of nerd who can disappear down a medical research rabbit hole for hours because I saw one interesting study and thought:

“Well, I wonder what they found?”

So when I started this challenge, one of the things I wanted to understand was something I've mentioned throughout this series:

Where does the money actually go?

We've talked about survivors.

We've talked about partners and caregivers.

We've talked about children.

We've talked about the resources that can help families after a heart or brain health event.

But what about the research?

What are scientists actually doing with the support that organizations like Heart & Stroke provide?

Well…

Now we get to the fun part.

Research isn't just about finding a cure

When we hear the word research, I think it's easy to imagine somebody in a laboratory wearing a white coat, staring into a microscope and waiting for something interesting to happen.

And yes, sometimes there probably is a microscope involved.

But cardiovascular and stroke research is much bigger than that.

Researchers are trying to understand how disease develops, how we can identify risk earlier, how we can treat a heart attack or stroke more effectively, how we can reduce disability, and how we can help people recover afterward.

Sometimes they're trying to answer questions that seem incredibly specific.

Sometimes they're trying to answer questions that could change an entire field of medicine.

And sometimes they're simply asking:

“What if?”

That's where things get interesting.

What if we could remove the clot?

Let's start here because this is a Canadian—and particularly an Alberta—research story.

In Calgary, researchers including Dr. Michael Hill, Dr. Andrew Demchuk and Dr. Mayank Goyal led the ESCAPE clinical trial. (1)

The research looked at endovascular treatment, or EVT, for severe ischemic strokes caused by large blood clots blocking major arteries in the brain.

The concept sounds almost like science fiction when you stop and think about it.

Instead of simply trying to dissolve the clot with medication, doctors can guide a catheter through the body's blood vessels to the blockage in the brain and physically remove it.

The ESCAPE trial showed that this treatment could cut deaths from these severe strokes by about half while substantially reducing disability.

That research helped change stroke treatment around the world.

And this is where the research nerd in me gets excited.

Because that wasn't magic.

Somebody had to ask the question.

Somebody had to design the study.

Somebody had to recruit patients.

Somebody had to collect the data.

Somebody had to analyze it.

And then other researchers had to test, challenge and confirm the findings.

Eventually, something that started as a research question became a treatment that can give someone another chance at life.

That's the journey from “What if?” to “Let's try it.”

And eventually to:

“We know this works.”

What if we could identify the risk before the heart attack?

Here's another one that caught my attention.

Dr. Guillaume Paré and his research team are looking at the genetic factors that can contribute to very early heart disease.(2)

Rather than looking for one single genetic switch that says, “You're going to have a heart attack,” researchers are looking at huge numbers of genetic variations and how their combined effects may influence someone's risk.

This is where things get wonderfully complicated.

Our genetics don't come with a little warning label saying:

“CAUTION: HEART ATTACK RISK.”

Wouldn't that be convenient?

Instead, researchers are trying to understand patterns buried within millions of pieces of genetic information.

The goal is to eventually become better at identifying people who may be at increased risk—potentially decades before a cardiovascular event occurs.

Think about what that could mean.

Instead of meeting someone after their heart attack and saying:

“Here's what happened. Now let's treat it.”

Imagine being able to identify elevated risk earlier and say:

“Here's what we found. Let's see what we can do before something happens.”

That's a completely different approach.

And it's one of the reasons I think research matters so much.

Because sometimes the best treatment isn't a better treatment for the disaster.

Sometimes it's preventing the disaster from happening in the first place.

What if the heart could repair itself?

Now we're getting into territory that really makes my inner nerd happy.

Heart & Stroke-funded researcher Dr. Kim Connelly and his colleagues are investigating ways to repair heart cells damaged by heart attacks and other forms of heart disease.(3)

Their work has moved from laboratory research toward clinical research looking at whether damaged heart tissue can actually be helped to recover.

For someone like me, that's a pretty fascinating question.

Because once heart muscle has been damaged, we've traditionally had very limited ways of reversing that damage.

So researchers are asking:

Can we change that?

Can damaged heart cells be repaired?

Can heart function be improved?

Can we prevent the progression toward heart failure?

These aren't questions with simple answers.

And that's exactly why we need researchers willing to spend years trying to answer them.

And the research doesn't stop there

This isn't research that happened twenty or thirty years ago and then got put on a shelf.

It's happening right now.

In 2026, Heart & Stroke, Brain Canada and the Canadian Institutes of Health Research announced a $5-million, five-year initiative focused on cardiac arrest research. (3)

The funded teams are working on three major areas:

Prediction and early detection.

Improving response and survival.

And optimizing brain recovery after cardiac arrest.

That's an entire research program built around questions that could affect whether someone survives a cardiac arrest, how well they recover, and what life looks like afterward.

And just recently, another $5-million, five-year research network was announced to focus on improving rehabilitation and recovery for women following heart-brain health events such as stroke, heart attack and cardiac arrest.

So when someone says:

“My donation goes toward research.”

That doesn't mean the money disappears into some mysterious scientific black hole.

It means researchers are being given the resources to ask questions that don't yet have answers.

Here's the uncomfortable part about research

Not every experiment works.

Not every theory is correct.

Not every promising treatment becomes a treatment.

Sometimes researchers spend years following an idea only to discover that it doesn't work.

And that's not failure in the way we normally think about failure.

Sometimes finding out that something doesn't work is exactly how science moves forward.

Because you can't discover the right answer without being willing to test the wrong ones.

That's one of the things I love about research.

It doesn't pretend to already know the answer.

It asks the question.

Then it tests it.

Then it tests it again.

And sometimes somebody eventually finds something that changes everything.

So what did your donation help fund?

This is where I want to bring the whole series back around.

We've spent the last few blogs looking at what happens after someone becomes a survivor.

The partner.

The caregiver.

The children.

The friends.

The family.

The community.

But research allows us to look in the other direction.

Before.

Before the heart attack.

Before the stroke.

Before the cardiac arrest.

Before another family has to learn what aphasia means.

Before another child has to wonder why Mom or Dad suddenly can't do the things they used to do.

Before another partner has to become a caregiver overnight.

Research is trying to move the starting line.

Earlier detection.

Better prevention.

Faster treatment.

Better recovery.

Less disability.

More lives saved.

More time with the people we love.

And that's why I walked.

I started this challenge with a goal of 90 kilometres.

I've now walked 92km

And apparently I'm not finished yet.

The dollars you donated don't simply end when a project reaches its goal or a study is completed.

Research builds on research.

Today's discoveries become tomorrow's starting point.

One question leads to another.

One study gives another researcher something to work with.

One breakthrough can open an entirely new area of investigation.

And that is how science moves forward.

So, as happy as I may be that I saw my watch go:

“Yay! You reached 90 km!”

I'm just not content.

The kilometres became a way of telling a much bigger story.

I started by telling you why I walk.

Then we looked beyond the survivor.

We talked about the partner.

The children.

The wider circle.

We followed the money trail.

And now we've followed it into the laboratory.

Into the research centres.

Into the clinical trials.

Into the questions that researchers are still trying to answer.

And maybe that's the most important thing I can leave you with.

I'm not walking only for the answers we've already found.

I'm walking for the questions we haven't answered yet.

What if we can prevent it?

What if we can detect it earlier?

What if we can treat it faster?

What if we can repair the damage?

What if we can give someone another twenty years?

Another ten?

Another birthday?

Another Christmas?

Another walk?

Another chance to watch their kid graduate?

Another chance to walk their daughter down the aisle?

Another chance to simply wake up tomorrow?

Those are the things research can eventually make possible.

But somebody has to ask the question first.

Somebody has to fund the research.

Somebody has to be willing to say:

“We don't know yet. Let's find out.”

That's what your donations can help make possible.

And that's something worth walking for.

92  kilometres down.

And for September,

I'm still walking.

For my heart.

For Mike.

For the survivors.

For their families.

And for all the questions we haven't answered yet.

Let's see what science can do.


And before I sign off my series blog, I want to thank everyone who donated—not only your hard-earned money to a cause close to my heart, but also your time.

Thank you to everyone who took time out of your busy schedules to read my blogs and follow my progress.

It is the kindness and generosity of all of you that helps support the work being done to advance cardiovascular and stroke research.

My heart truly thanks you.

And if Mike were here, I know he would thank you too.

Thank you again for following along.

Enjoy the rest of September, and maybe check back later to see how many more kilometres I manage to log.

(1) 

“CSM: Escape Stroke.” Cumming School of Medicine, 16 Feb. 2023, cumming.ucalgary.ca/escape-stroke. Accessed 15 Sept. 2026.


(2) 

Thériault, S., Lali, R., Chong, M., Velianou, J., Natarajan, M. and Paré, G.

Thériault, Sébastien, et al. Circulation: Genomic and Precision Medicine, vol. 11, no. 1, Jan. 2018, doi:10.1161/circgen.117.001849.


(3) 

“Leading Canadian Researchers Awarded $5M to Advance Cardiac Arrest Prediction, Survival and Recovery.” Heart and Stroke Foundation of Canada, 22 June 2026, www.heartandstroke.ca/what-we-do/media-centre/news-releases/leading-canadian-researchers-awarded-5m-to-advance-cardiac-arrest-research?utm_source=copilot.com. Accessed 15 Sept. 2026.

Follow Up for Fun

Tuesday 15th Sep

Another Go

Monday 14th Sep

Quick Jaunt

Monday 14th Sep

Sleepless Nights

Monday 14th Sep

Just a Walk

Monday 14th Sep

Round 3

Monday 14th Sep

evening contemplation

Monday 14th Sep

Beyond the Survivor part 4: follow the money Trail

Tuesday 8th Sep
Beyond The Survivor — Part 4:  Follow the Money Trail
50.1% complete.
A few extended walks, a hike that turned into a fishing adventure (without catching a fish), and deleting manual entries on my participant page because suddenly the Strava app decided to sync my activities.
So, if I expect our government to be transparent with their Blue Books, I expect myself to be as well.
My numbers may go up and down, but if there's ever a discrepancy, I'll delete the manual entry if need be. I want to stay transparent and honest—not just for those following along, but for me, and for Mike.
As I look at that number on my watch, I'm not just thinking about kilometres anymore.
I'm thinking about the survivor.
The partner.
The caregiver.
The child.
The friend who doesn't know what to say.
The family trying to figure out what life looks like now.
The researcher working on what comes next.
And the person who hasn't become a survivor yet.
That's who I'm walking for.
The first half of this challenge was about explaining why I walk.
The second half is about remembering who I'm walking for.
And if you've donated, shared my posts, encouraged me, followed along, or simply stopped for a minute to read these blogs—
you're walking with me.
Maybe not literally.
But every step I take is connected to the reason I'm doing this.
So, in Part 3, I asked:
How do the funds raised for the Heart & Stroke Foundation help those beyond the survivor or patient diagnosed with heart disease?
And now, we follow the money trail to get a better picture of how your donation can help.
Because your donation doesn't simply belong to the person who had the stroke or the person living with heart disease.
It can reach much further than that.
So, where does the money go?
The Heart & Stroke Foundation's work isn't one giant pot of money that gets handed out to individual families.
It's much broader.
Donations help fund the organization's mission across research, advocacy, health promotion, and support for people and families affected by heart disease and stroke.
Okay, let's get the boring math out of the way first.
According to Heart & Stroke's 2025 fiscal-year figures, 64.5% of spending went toward mission work, including research, advocacy and health promotion. Another 33.3% went toward fundraising, while 2.2% went toward administration.
So, roughly 64.5 cents of every dollar spent goes toward the mission.
And that's not bubble-gum change.
That's Heart & Stroke putting donated money toward the work they're here to do—and personally, I think that's commendable.
So what does that actually mean for the people we've been talking about?
Sometimes help starts with information.
Imagine leaving a hospital after a stroke.
You have a diagnosis.
You may have medications.
You may have appointments.
Maybe you're dealing with weakness, fatigue, speech difficulties, memory problems, or changes in mood and personality.
And standing beside you is a spouse or family member who may be thinking:
“Okay... now what?”
The Heart & Stroke Foundation provides resources designed to help people and their families understand what comes next.
Their Your Stroke Journey resource is designed to help people and families understand stroke and the recovery process, while their online resources cover things like rehabilitation, recovery, communication, caregiving, and returning to life after stroke.
That might sound simple.
But sometimes knowing what you're dealing with is the first step toward figuring out how you're going to deal with it.
Family care partners need care too.
This one stood out to me because we've already talked about the partner becoming a caregiver.
The person who was your spouse or partner can suddenly become the person organizing medications, appointments, transportation, meals, household responsibilities, and everything else that comes with a major medical change.
And eventually, that caregiver may need somebody to ask:
“How are YOU doing?”
Heart & Stroke provides caregiver resources and connects people with organizations and support communities where caregivers can talk with other people who understand what they're going through.
Their current resources include caregiver support and connections to organizations such as March of Dimes Canada and other provincial caregiver services.
Because sometimes you don't need somebody to tell you how you should feel.
You just need somebody who understands why you feel that way.
Sometimes support means finding the right door.
Heart & Stroke maintains a national and provincial resource network covering things like:
caregiver support
rehabilitation
home care
financial assistance
transportation
accessible housing
employment support
assistive devices
social and peer support
medication and drug coverage
community prevention programs
They don't necessarily provide every one of those services themselves.
Instead, their resource listings can help people find organizations and services that may be able to help in their particular community.
And honestly, sometimes that's what people need most.
Not another pamphlet.
Not somebody telling them to “hang in there.”
They need someone—or something—to help them figure out where to go next.
And this is where I'll leave you...
The next blog is the exciting piece I've been saving.
Or, at least, it's exciting to me.
But I'm a nerd in that fashion, so you can probably guess where this is leading.
If not...
Well, you're just going to have to tune in next time and take a read.
For now, I leave you with the way my legs feel right now:
Exhausted.
Enjoy the rest of your week, everybody.
And remember—
45 kilometres down.
45 to go.
Let's keep walking.


Sunday Lunch Walk Strava Flyover

Monday 7th Sep

Hike

Sunday 6th Sep

Hills oh the Hills...

Sunday 6th Sep

The first steps

Saturday 5th Sep
Check out a 3D Flyover of my first official September 90km for the Heart and Stroke Foundation challenge. To view, click on the link below while figure out why i.can not upload it to my activity feed. 

Check out this Flyover of my walk on Strava: https://strava.app.link/KnmJk5Sqb6b

Beyond The Survivor Part 3: The Social Circle

Thursday 3rd Sep

Happy September, Readers — Let the Walking Begin

As we close out summer and walk quickly into what already feels like fall, let’s take a look at the last weight of surviving a stroke.

So far, we’ve looked at the primary caregiver—the spouse, the partner, the lover, if you will. Then we looked at the kids and how quickly life can change for them.

Now, we look at the social circle shift: why friends pull away.

One of the most painful aspects of post-stroke life can be watching the family’s social circle shrink. It’s easy to assume friends don’t care, but the reality is usually much more nuanced.

Most friends pull away not out of coldness, but because of awkwardness, discomfort, and a fear of doing or saying the wrong thing.

Misunderstanding the Side Effects

Post-stroke challenges like speech difficulties, emotional lability—sudden, uncontrollable laughing or crying—or fatigue can make social interactions feel unpredictable.

Friends who don’t understand these symptoms may retreat simply because they don’t know how to act or what to say.

The Fear of Being a Burden

Friends may feel that visiting places extra strain on an already exhausted family. Sometimes, rather than risk intruding or becoming another responsibility, they stay away entirely.

The Isolation Gap

As invitations dry up, both the stroke survivor and their family can end up feeling deeply isolated at exactly the time they need community the most.

It’s okay to talk to the people you allow into your inner circle. Be honest. Chances are, they are just as nervous about saying the wrong thing as you are.

Educate your friends.

Sometimes, a short and honest text to a close friend explaining what to expect can break the ice and ease the awkwardness:

“John loves visitors, but he gets tired quickly and speaks slowly now. Just sitting with him for 20 minutes means the world.”

Sometimes, it really can be that simple.

These are just three of the more nuanced struggles that can exist after a stroke or a heart disease diagnosis—struggles that extend far beyond the person who received the diagnosis.

It’s chaos. It’s love. It’s life.

Finding a “New Normal” Together

Navigating life after a stroke is not a sprint. It’s a marathon without a fixed finish line.

While the challenges can be profound, finding a path forward is possible with time, patience, and support.

Acknowledge the Grief:
It is entirely valid for spouses and children to grieve the life they had before the stroke. Validating those feelings, rather than burying them, is crucial.

Reassure the Kids:
Explicitly relieve children of the burden of medical responsibility. Remind them that they are kids first, caregivers second, and that another stroke is never their fault or their responsibility to prevent.

Seek Support Outside the Home:
Joining a caregiver support group or family counselling can provide a safe space to vent, learn strategies from others who “get it,” and help combat isolation.

Final Thought

As I push my first steps toward that 90 km finish line, this is what I want to leave you with:

Recovery after a stroke isn’t just about the survivor learning to walk or talk again.

It’s about a family re-learning how to function, communicate, and love each other through a profound life transition.

Grace, flexibility, and seeking help along the way aren’t just helpful—they’re essential.

So don’t be scared to ask:

How do the funds raised for the Heart and Stroke Foundation help those beyond the survivor or patient diagnosed with heart disease?

Why, excellent question.

Join me in my next blog series (Title TBA) after I’ve put some steps toward raising these funds, and I’ll share just how far your pledge money goes.

You might be surprised at just how much further those pennies go.

And now…

Okay. Hill one. Oh boy. Let’s do this.

Beyond the Survivor: Part 2; The Children's Story

Wednesday 26th Aug

As August draws to a close and I prepare to launch my 90km Challenge on September 1st—raising critical funds and awareness for the Heart and Stroke Foundation—I’m honored to share part two of our Beyond the Survivor series. I am also honored to say "thank you" to my anonymous first donor for your support; whoever you may be, thank you.

While the first installment focused on the immediate physical and emotional toll a stroke or heart disease diagnosis takes on a survivor and their primary caregiver, this chapter turns toward a group whose voices often go unheard in the immediate aftermath: the children.

When a parent faces a major medical crisis, a child's entire world shifts overnight. They may not always have the words to express their fear, confusion, or grief, but they carry the heavy emotional weight of that diagnosis right alongside us.

Children process a parent’s stroke in complex ways, depending on their age.

The person they relied on for protection and guidance may suddenly look, speak, or act entirely different. Learning a new language of connection if a stroke results in aphasia (difficulty speaking or understanding speech) or changes in personality/mood. The loss of easy conversations can leave children feeling confused or isolated and lead to a need to learn new ways to interact with their parent.

The Weight of the 'What If' is often a heavy struggle for children. When kids are asked to help out—whether that's watching their parent while mom or dad runs an errand or helping with basic needs—a heavy fear often settles in.

They worry: “What if another stroke happens on my watch? Will I know what to do? Is it my fault if something goes wrong?”

Children often take on adult responsibilities earlier than expected, balancing their school and social lives with the emotional weight of a fragile home environment.

FINAL THOUGHTS:

Navigating life after a stroke is not a sprint; it’s a marathon without a fixed finish line. While the challenges are profound, finding a path forward is possible with time, patience, and support.

Acknowledge the grief: It is entirely valid for spouses and children to grieve the life they had before the stroke or diagnosis of heart disease. Validating those feelings—rather than burying them—is crucial for mental health.

Reassure the Kids by explicitly relieving children of the burden of medical responsibility. Remind them that they are kids first, caregivers second, and that another stroke is never their fault or responsibility to prevent.

Seek support outside the home. Joining a caregiver support group or family counseling can provide a safe space to vent, learn strategies from others who "get it," and combat isolation.

Recovery after a stroke isn't just about the survivor learning to walk or talk again. It’s about a family re-learning how to function, communicate, and love each other through a profound life transition.

Grace, flexibility, and seeking help along the way aren't just helpful—they are essential.

Beyond the Survivor: Why The People Around a Survivor Matter Too:

Monday 17th Aug


While I've been tweaking my profile page and deciding what these blogs should embrace beyond my personal progress during September and the 90 kilometres I'm walking, I kept circling back to the same theme.


When we think of the Heart & Stroke Foundation, we often think first of the survivor: the person who suffered a stroke or the individual living with heart disease. And rightly so. Their survival, recovery and health are at the centre of everything.


But there is another part of the story that can be easy to overlook: the people who love them.


A stroke or serious heart condition doesn't affect only the person whose name is on the medical chart. In an instant, it can change the lives, routines, responsibilities and expectations of an entire family.


So while I walk my 90 kilometres and share my progress for those who have donated and followed along, I want to use this series to look beyond my own story. I'll also be sharing some of the ways funds raised through the Heart & Stroke Foundation can help people affected by cardiovascular disease and stroke—including the people standing beside the survivor.


The Partner's Shift


When a stroke happens, the immediate focus is rightly on survival and medical recovery. We measure progress in physical therapy milestones, speech improvements and doctor visits.


But for a spouse or partner, life can change just as suddenly.


The person who was your partner may now need help with things that used to be routine. A partner can suddenly find themselves managing medications, appointments, therapy sessions, mobility, household responsibilities and finances—while also trying to be there emotionally for the person they love.


The shift from partner to caregiver can happen almost overnight.


And that creates a complicated mix of emotions. There can be love, determination and hope, but there can also be exhaustion, fear, frustration and grief for the life that existed before the stroke.


It can be heartbreaking to watch someone you love struggle with tasks that used to be second nature. It can also be incredibly difficult for the caregiver to admit that they are struggling themselves when everyone is looking to them to be the strong one.


Caregiving isn't simply about doing more tasks. It's also about mourning the life you had while trying to build a new one together.


That is something I think deserves more attention.


Because when we talk about recovery, the survivor is obviously an enormous part of the conversation. But recovery doesn't happen in isolation. Families have to adapt too. Partners have to adapt. The definition of what “normal” means can change for everyone in the household.


And that is where I want to take this series.


This is only the first look beyond the survivor. In the next posts, I'll look at what happens to the children of a survivor, then at the friends and wider social circle that can also be affected. I'll also connect those stories back to the practical ways donations to the Heart & Stroke Foundation can support people living through those changes.


Because the person who survives a stroke or lives with heart disease may be the one carrying the diagnosis, but they aren't necessarily carrying it alone.


And neither should the people who love them.

Why I'm Walking 90 Kilometres This September

Wednesday 12th Aug

Why hello, blog readers.

I have to admit something to you all: until recently, I had never written a blog, and I certainly had never read one. In my mind, I've always thought of blogs as being somewhere between a public diary and a place where people vent, write out all their problems, and post them online because they have nobody else to tell. Yikes, I know.

So when I was asked and challenged to take part in the Heart & Stroke Foundation's September 90 km walking challenge and write “blogs” about the experience, my first thought was, “Well... this is going to be interesting.”

But the more I procrastinated creating the profile page and writing this bad, bad first blog, the more time it gave me to reflect and realize that the natural answer to why I'm doing this goes a little something like this:

I've lived with a congenital heart defect called coarctation of the aorta my entire life. When I was four years old, I underwent surgery to correct a patent ductus arteriosus. At nine, I had another thoracotomy involving the placement of a Gore-Tex patch in my aortic arch. Over the many years, there have been angioplasties, lifelong hypertension, and more specialists and cardiovascular appointments than I could possibly count.

I can remember feeling what a Christmas tree must feel like when having lights placed all over its foliage back when cardiac echoes consisted of red rubber suction cups that somewhat resembled Christmas light bulbs. To get them to stick, you were doused with so much lubricant that you would require an entire roll of paper towels to remove it afterwards. Now it takes five seconds to apply the leads and there's no leftover lube. Thank you, science and innovation, for that.

In 2022, I experienced two strokes. In 2023, I was diagnosed with Stage C congestive heart failure.

So, my heart has had to work around problems it was never supposed to have in the first place, and yet somehow, I'm still here.

I enjoy walking. I try every day to get that meaningful “yay, you reached your step goal” message on my smartwatch. It was always easy, despite my cardiac output, but recently it's been more challenging to see that pop-up message.

I fatigue more easily these days. I have to stop sometimes, and hills that used to be nothing can require a rest. My body seems to be wanting to remind me that it has limitations now.

But I can still walk.

And because I'm stubborn and like to see that goal-reached message appear nightly, well, I'd like some of those kilometres to mean something.

So taking part and walking 90 km in September to raise awareness and funds for the Heart & Stroke Foundation isn't just a challenge—it's close to my heart, literally and figuratively. I'm not just talking about getting some exercise. I'm walking because cardiovascular disease has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember.

Then there are the reasons close to my heart that make the challenge mean something to me on a personal level: research to help future patients live longer, lasting and meaningful lives. People who should be here today but are not. People like Mike.

Mike was one of those people who seemed almost impossible to explain on paper. He lived with CHF, yet somehow he never allowed that diagnosis to define how he lived. He was the person people went to when they needed someone to listen. He didn't judge, and he didn't pretend difficult situations didn't exist. He simply faced them and kept moving forward.

Mike passed in 2021 from complications associated with congestive heart failure. It sucks losing a friend who helped shape the way you face difficult situations and helped steer you in life's proper direction.

I think of Mike often. Sometimes, when I'm confronted with a difficult decision, I stop and ask myself:

“What would Mike do?”

And more often than not, I already know the answer. It isn't always the answer I want, but it has been the answer I needed.

And here I am, writing my first blog, sharing that I've spent my entire life learning that the human body is remarkably complicated, adaptable and, sometimes, surprisingly stubborn. I'm sharing with strangers that I'm doing this because cardiovascular disease has affected my life in ways that are impossible to separate from who I am, and I'm doing this because of people I've lost. People like Mike.

I'm not setting a massive fundraising goal. My personal goal is $100. Maybe I'll raise more. Maybe I won't. But $100 is something I can realistically commit to raising myself if I have to.

The point isn't what I get out of it. The point is that the money goes toward something bigger than me—research, awareness, prevention and treatment—and to an organization whose work directly relates to something that has affected my life, my family, my friends, and countless people I will never meet.

And if I can walk 15,000 steps in a day just to keep myself busy, then I figure I can damn well walk some of those steps for something that matters.

So in September, I'm walking 90 kilometres to raise funds and awareness for the Heart & Stroke Foundation.

I'll record the kilometres. I'll share the progress. I'll probably even complain about the hills, but I'll keep walking until I see “yay, you've reached your goal of 90 km” appear on my watch.

And I will do so, one step at a time.

For my heart.

For Mike.

And for everyone who still has more road ahead of them.

Thank you to my Donors

$100

Joe T

I love your beautiful heart Ben!

$50

Anonymous

$50

Shirley Legault

$50

Anonymous

$25

Benjamin Legault