Walking Man

I first met Guillaume LeBlanc when I was the late night sportscaster at CBMT in Montreal.

He finished fourth in the 1984 Olympics in an obscure event known as the 20-km race walk. All that I knew about the race walk was that it seems something akin to the migratory march of penguins. It is, on the surface, a weird, torture test of a waddle, which sways through the streets of any given Olympic city and finishes at the main stadium with much less fanfare than the more glamorous marathon.

Still, it holds a certain strange fascination and Guillaume was - in his day - one of the best on the face of the earth.

Fast forward - if that can possibly be done when discussing race walking - and imagine my surprise when, upon hearing that I would host the Olympic Hall of Fame induction ceremony in Calgary, that Guillaume LeBlanc was the only summer athlete to be honoured this year. Along with speed skating legend Catriona Le May Doan, gold medal hockey coach Daniele Sauvageau, Bill Warren and Frank King, the men who delivered the Olympic Games to Calgary in 1988, the RCAF Flyers who won the hockey championship at the 1948 Games in St. Moritz, and Canada’s “Queen of the Blades,” figure skater Barbara Ann Scott, Guillaume LeBlanc would walk right into Canadian sports folklore. I figured his entrance might go almost unnoticed.

I was wrong.

Career filled with glory

By way of background, it should be noted that Canada’s most accomplished walking man has delivered a fair amount of glory over the course of his career. Born in Sept-Iles, Que., in 1962, LeBlanc won championships at the Commonwealth Games, the Jeux de la Francophonie and once held the world record at the 30-km distance. Most importantly, he captured the silver medal in the 20-km event at the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona, finishing just behind Daniel Plaza Montero of Spain. It’s a worthy resume to be sure, one that includes appearances at three Olympic games.

But still, when compared to the others on this year’s Hall of Fame roster, Guillaume, like his sport, seemed to be a conversation piece rather than the guest of honour.

A couple of days before the ceremony I called Guillaume at his home in Laval, where he works for Bell Canada and coaches kids in soccer and football, to get a sense of what this meant to him. In halting but emotional English, the walking man got his message across loud and clear.

“I feel that I am an Olympian and that is very important to me,” LeBlanc said. “I live the Olympic values and keep them always in my heart and in my mind. It is a great honour to be understood and recognized for something that I did at the Olympics.”

It was very moving to speak with LeBlanc that day and as I listened I recalled the way he competed. He gritted his teeth and moved his arms furiously while his legs took on the characteristics of eggbeaters. The rules require that a race walker must have one foot in contact with the ground at all times thus causing the exaggerated sway of the hips. On the racecourse there are countless judges at regular intervals to ensure that each contestant plays fair and LeBlanc had been disqualified on occasion, as was the case in the longer 50-km race at Barcelona. Still, he learned more than proper technique from all the distance he covered over the years.

“Sport makes you discover many things and one of those things is how to judge yourself,” LeBlanc figured. “Race walking is a sport where you are often alone and beyond the eyes of the judges. I learned to judge myself and be comfortable with what I did in my own heart.”

'Race walking is a sport'

Tim Berrett agrees with Guillaume’s assessment of the sport. Berrett is a 43-year-old and has recently qualified for the 50 km race walk in Beijing. His first Olympic appearance was at Barcelona in 1992 and he was in the field when LeBlanc won that silver medal. China will mark Berrett ’s fifth trip to the Games as a competitor for Canada.

“It’s important for Guillaume to go into the Hall of Fame. It tells me that there is some recognition at the end of it all,” Berrett estimates. “He did nearly everything in his career that could be done. Race walking is a bit misunderstood. It’s more than a walk in the park. We’re out there twice as long as the marathoners.”

Indeed, athletes like Berrett put in upwards of 200 km a week, or three hours a day, on the road. Then there’ s the weight training and time in the gym beyond that. With very few competitors across the country, race walking can be a lonely pursuit.

“You don’t get into it for the fame or the fortune that’s for sure,” Berrett chuckles. “You are out there for so long on your own that you have to be convinced that it is, indeed, worthwhile.”

Which begs the question, in an unheralded sport, why does a forty something father of two young children keep up the chase?

“It’s the constant challenge and there’s always a perfect race just around the corner,” Berrett claims. “And in Beijing a personal best in terms of placing is a possibility given the environmental conditions that we will face. Anything can happen, as it did for Guillaume in Barcelona in 1992.”

As he walked to the stage to accept his induction to Canada’s Olympic shrine, Guillaume LeBlanc interrupted his stride and paused for a moment. The people in the crowd of 650 were on their feet to applaud this modest and once unfamiliar gentleman. He bowed slightly and wiped away a few tears, as he suddenly understood that he more than belonged on this podium and amongst these people.

“I am so used to being second,” LeBlanc had said earlier. “I am the vice Olympic champion because I finished second in that race. And I am a twin who was the second one to be born. Still, I am so happy to be a part of the Olympic family.”

LeBlanc honoured

On this night Guillaume LeBlanc was the first to be honoured and reserved a special chapter in our nation’s sporting history. He is one of Canada’s beloved champions and an unsung hero no more.

Rushing to the airport following the ceremony and bound for the red-eye to Toronto, I happened to look at the Calgary Tower, an icon of the 1988 Olympic city. The flame was alight, just as it had been for the duration of the games twenty years ago. This is a sight not often seen since the Olympics made their departure from the Stampede City. The tower’s torch on this night was meant to celebrate the people who had just entered Canada’s Olympic Hall of Fame. I’ll not soon forget it.

It struck me that the walking man never let such a flame die. He kept it burning bright and deep within him as he kept one foot firmly planted on his way to this well deserved and precious moment.