In 2012 he stood on the podium — a gold medal wrapped around his neck.
In 2009 he stood on a chair — a belt wrapped around his neck.
For more than 10 years I have been privileged to quilt quotes and thread them into stories about kids in our community, who all share a common goal: the pursuit of academic and athletic excellence at university or college.
McMaster student Lionel Sanders — has a truly unique story to tell, one I believe could make the difference in the life of other people.
Lionel’s “raw” story, however, is unlike any I have penned previously. So poignant. So powerful.
Twice, through struggles with addiction, he came close to taking his life. He found a way to move on, to fight on.
Now, Sanders (a transfer from the University of Windsor) is a twice named academic all-Canadian — Dean’s Honour List, two-time CIS cross country all-star and aspiring Olympian (triathlon).
He is also now on Canada’s radar for the national triathlon team, and he trains with Barrie Shepley, the former Olympic coach of Simon Whitfield.
Each story is unique.
This is Sanders’s story, for the most part in his own words. He wants to tell it, raw as it is, not only because it helps him see his way forward, but because he hopes it will help others who might have similar struggles.
“I discovered running at an early age, and I immediately excelled at it. But for most of my running career I never really enjoyed it. It quickly became something I did because I felt people expected me to do it — teachers, parents, etc.
“I have always been very easily influenced. I can still remember the night the joint came to me for the first time in a friend’s garage. I didn’t have the guts to say no.
“This sort of lifestyle went on for much of high school. My focus started to turn from sports to partying.
“For a while, I began to take pride in my ability to party hard and excel at sports. Eventually my partying started to take over so much of my mind that I wasn’t excelling nearly as much at sports — and running in particular.
“At this point, I think I started to believe that I wasn’t really cut out to be an athlete. And so much, if not all, my identity began to get wrapped up in partying.
“One night I got curious about trying ecstasy. A friend of mine had been dealing drugs on the side to make extra cash. I asked him if he could bring some over. He said he had some bad news. He couldn’t get his hands on any ecstasy, but he had a bunch of coke and was willing to share it at no cost.
“I was very afraid. I had prepared myself to take a hit of ecstasy, but this cocaine stuff I didn’t know much about. He had a line in front of me and he seemed OK. I caved.
“I then followed the exact same progression I took with marijuana, but with cocaine.
“By the end of the summer (2008) my sanity was starting to slip. I broke down to my parents. I told them everything and that I was beginning to lose control of myself. I listened to them for a few weeks and then decided I had regained control over myself.”
It was only temporary.
“My girlfriend and I were supposed to go to a concert in the States. I didn’t feel like going. Some of my friends came over and we started chugging whiskey and chasing it with beer. I remember waking up in the Windsor Detox facility.
“I believed I had hit rock bottom and that something needed to change. I vowed I would no longer hang around with that crowd. I got a library card and I read hundreds of spiritual books. I think I was looking for a purpose — or to give my life some meaning.
“After about six months, I felt like a new man. I felt like I had gained a ton of mental strength and discipline.
Derailed — again …
“I decided to go play a game of poker at my friend’s house. Of course, on the way I grabbed a six pack. I wasn’t three beers deep before I was on the phone with an old friend who I knew sold cocaine. Twenty minutes later I had done a gram in one line. Once again I continued my old ways.
“My relationship with my girlfriend was dysfunctional. We decided to go our separate ways (in 2009).
“My self-respect began to dwindle even more. I started to think about cheaper drugs.
“I had another friend who was selling methamphetamine. It was cheap and really powerful. I bought a couple of grams one night and did not emerge from the basement for nearly a day. At this point, my sanity really started to escape me. I was also starting to hallucinate, even when I wasn’t high.
“I went on like this for about four months — lost about 40 pounds and couldn’t look at myself in the mirror.
“My loss of sanity really started to scare me. It was at this point that I started running again. I don’t know why, but it was something that had a bit of familiarity to me — something I could do that made me feel secure again.
“Very quickly, I stopped using drugs completely. But I felt like crap most of the time. Eventually, though, I had an idea to enter an Ironman Triathlon. I had never done a triathlon before, so I have no idea where this idea came from, but once I got it in my head, it seemed like the perfect idea. It would force me to get healthy, and I had a suspicion that if I stuck to it, eventually my mental health would improve.
“Now, I had a goal. At this point I thought my worst days were behind me. Admittedly, I still wasn’t feeling very good about myself. I still had severe phobia, and I still felt depressed quite often. But I wasn’t doing drugs anymore, so this was a good thing.
“One night I decided to let loose with my friends. I pounded back a 26er of whiskey and a couple of smokes. And by the end of the night I spent every dollar I had to my name on cocaine.
“The next day was terrible. As nightfall came I started drinking again. And as the night wore on I got more and more depressed. I was deeply ashamed of myself. I had no money and very little food. I felt that despite my best efforts I had failed myself and my family yet again. After much pondering, I decided I didn’t want to live anymore. The guilt and shame was just too deep.
“Once my roommates had gone to bed, I found my strongest belt. I went into the garage and looked for a bolt in the rafters from which to hang it. I was bawling my eyes out, but it felt like the only solution to end the pain. I pulled up a chair, tied the belt around my neck and then attached it to the bolt. I stood on the arm of the chair for a long time and cried. My mind was racing.
“One of the thoughts that popped into my head was how my friend would find me the next morning. The next was what my mom’s reaction would be when she found out.
“When the image of my mom popped into my head, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew she would never, ever be able to live a normal life again. She would go the rest of her life with the guilt of feeling that she was responsible for me taking my own life.“It was at that exact instant that I knew this was not the solution. It could not be the solution. I had to step down. For my mom. So I unhooked the belt and stepped down.
“At that moment I knew that failure was no longer an option. I would succeed in overcoming my demons. There was no other choice.
“The next morning I put on a ‘Livestrong’ bracelet, which I still have on my right wrist to this day. For me it signifies the commitment I made to myself at the moment in time where I had come closest to the end.
“On Aug. 29, 2010, I completed Ironman Louisville. It was a big stepping-stone for me. I felt like I could do anything.”
Fast forward
In the past two years, the 24-year-old has won the USA National Duathlon Championship, the Canadian Duathlon Championship, the Ontario Sprint Triathlon Championship. He was named 2012 Elite Duathlete of the Year, and honoured as a CIS all-Canadian with the McMaster cross country team.
“I always wanted to tell that story raw,” he said. “A burden has been lifted.
“When I recount the story, I hear the story of a lost and troubled soul … and it makes me sad. But then I realize that the story doesn’t end there, and that it turns much more positive.
“I was a young person making bad decisions. Unfortunately, too many young people don’t see the light and never make it out. I am one of the lucky ones.
“I will tell this story in its entirety for the rest of my life, in case there is one person out there who may be somewhere on that path and has ears to hear, that it doesn’t have to be that way forever.
“I want to prove to anyone who has ever battled addiction that not only can you beat it, but you can turn yourself into something great in the process.”
Lionel Sanders is hooked — on life.
Cecelia Carter-Smith is a former Canadian and world record holder in track and a member of the Hamilton Sports Hall of Fame and Hamilton Gallery of Distinction. Her column appears weekly.
