Thank you, Madam Chair and members of the committee.
I'm a former professional road cyclist. I competed for Canada in the 2000 Olympic Games. I've won multiple world championships and world cups throughout my career.
I feel very fortunate to have been invited here today, because all of you have a part in the safeguarding of athletes and are in a position to influence the development of future generations of athletes.
Please understand that I will speak today about my own experiences. Everything I say here is my personal opinion. For the sake of expediency, I will go directly to the unedited version of my story—hence the blunt terminology.
For the purposes of this discussion, we can say that my story began at 14 years old. That's the age I was when my coach, who was 26 years older than me, hit me in the head for the first time in a training session. I was told that it was to make me a better, tougher athlete. He compared the world of competition to living in the jungle. In the jungle, only the strongest survive. I was taught to welcome assault and to trust that physical violence was a normal part of training, that it was actually good for me.
At 15 years old, the verbal and physical violence progressed to sexual assault and rape, which was immediately followed by threats like, “I'm in love with you. If you leave me, I'm going to kill you, and then I'm going to commit suicide.” I was never the same person after that first sexual assault.
Because I was living with constant violence, I actually believed that he could kill me and that he could commit suicide. It was so real that I couldn't leave. I did not want to live the rest of my life with the responsibility of someone's suicide on my shoulders. In my case, abuse also included performance-enhancing drugs, which I started taking at the age of 16.
I was winning a lot of races as a junior, including national championships against older girls, so my coach decided he would take more and more time off from work to focus exclusively on my athletic career and development. He eventually took leave without pay from his job as a phys. ed. teacher.
During that year, when I was 16, we discovered that I was anemic. I was told that I could not wait for the anemia to subside and get healthy naturally, because I was supposed to win, get sponsors and earn money for him to live. He brought me to a doctor and they decided to give me EPO, a performance-enhancing drug, so that I could keep training and performing regardless of my anemia. What was supposed to be a few injections to treat anemia turned into career-long doping.
In our society, when someone is engaged in illegal activities, he is considered a criminal, caught or not. To draw a parallel with society, in less than two years I became a victim of abuse, a cheater and, because doping is illegal in sports, a criminal in the world I lived in—all at 16.
I was a teenager without an escape route, with no one to talk to and no one to help me. There was rarely a training session without verbal, psychological and physical violence. My coach took control of everything—whom I was able to talk to, when I was able to go out, everything regarding finances, etc. I was desperately trying to find a way out of the sport to leave him. I could not just stop, because I was earning money for him to live. He made sure to remind me of that: He had left everything in his life, including divorcing his wife, to take care of my career, so I was the one responsible.
Because of his suicide threats, I could not go to another coach. I could not share my story with my national or international federation, because in revealing everything, I would have been accused of cheating. I would have lost my whole career, my life and my name. I was down to thinking that the only solution was to get into an accident—not an accident that would kill me, but something that was serious enough that I could finally make everything stop.
Instead of getting into an accident, I failed a drug test. I got a 10-year ban from all sports. I swear that failing that drug test was the best thing that ever happened to me. I was immediately relieved, because it meant that I could finally stop cycling and I could leave my coach. A positive drug test was just a small inconvenience compared with the hell I was living in. Having my name tarnished forever was a cheap price to pay to finally get rid of him.
You might ask yourself why I didn't just leave. Well, it's never as simple as just leaving an abusive relationship. Fleeing an abusive relationship is by far the most dangerous step, as the perpetrator fights to regain his control. Most fatalities happen in the act of leaving or just after the victim has left the relationship.
Until 2015 I was more comfortable having my name and identity associated with performance-enhancing drugs than associated with the abuse I had been a victim of. In 2015, when a good part of my healing had taken place, I finally felt ready to open up about the violence I had lived through and how I had been coerced into taking performance-enhancing drugs, but I was not yet ready to talk about the sexual assaults. To me, it was still too dirty and too shameful.
It was only in 2021, after reading numerous stories about abuse in sports, that I decided to share the full extent of my experience with abuse, the story I just told you today.
With that being said, please don't tell me you are sorry for what happened. Being sorry will not change the past. Be sorry that the culture of sport is still what it is today, and be angry that things are not moving fast enough in the safeguarding of athletes.
Because I believe I can be a part of the solution and influence the change of culture that must be imposed in sport, I got involved with Sport'Aide, and I'm extremely grateful to have a voice here today in front of this committee.
The literature confirms it: Female athletes are more at risk of experiencing situations of sexual violence; young athletes are more vulnerable; and female athletes are particularly at risk of experiencing violence when they have low self-confidence, eating disorders, and a very strong dependence on the coach. In addition, elite athletes are more at risk of experiencing psychological violence and young athletes of experiencing physical violence.
It is my wish that you help us make the following changes. Here are my recommendations.
First, we must educate our athletes, starting as early as possible, on what is an acceptable or unacceptable behaviour. Young athletes need to be equipped so they know how to react, know which services or resources to turn to, and understand there is no shame in asking for help. We must not assume that the winning coach is a good coach. Some coaches are just repeating the bad behaviour they witnessed and lived as athletes. Therefore, we must grow the education network to reach coaches, federation officials and parents. Education on matters of integrity should be mandatory.
Second, I would like to request the implementation of a system for receiving and processing complaints that is totally independent of the federations and that is not reserved only for our elite athletes. I would like to remind you that violence in sports crosses all ages, genres and skill levels. It happens at the recreational and the competitive levels.
Lastly, I'm also asking the Canadian sports system to rethink the funding of our federations so that it gives at least the same importance to the well-being of our athletes that they do to their performance. We cannot continue to give money to federations solely based on performance, because this “winning at all costs” mentality is enabling the culture of abuse.
I sincerely hope that the work you are currently carrying out will not be shelved. I, like many others you have heard in this room, will push for change. You have decisional power, and we are relying on you to give us the support we didn't have as young athletes.
Thank you again for having me among you today.