Sean Menard's documentary Run Terry Run draws on 91 reels of restored and largely unseen footage of Terry Fox captured during his Marathon of Hope in 1980.HO/The Canadian Press
The widely accepted short list of the greatest Canadians in history features a collection of icons whose accomplished careers spanned decades: Celine Dion, Wayne Gretzky, Chris Hadfield and Alexander Graham Bell, to name a few. And then, there is Terry Fox.
Fox never went to space, never made a technological breakthrough and never wrote or performed a smash hit. Yet in his brief 22 years, the curly haired mesomorph from Port Coquitlam, B.C., gripped the hearts of Canadians more tightly than few ever have.
And now, 45 years after his Marathon of Hope – a running journey that carried him from Newfoundland to Thunder Bay on a prosthetic leg – he still holds them tighter than do most of our past political leaders and cultural heroes.
His legacy has grown stronger with each passing generation; and his story is now so deeply woven into Canadian identity that one can’t help but ask: Why, exactly, does it continue to hold such staying power?
For the uninitiated, after losing his right leg to bone cancer, Fox decided to run across Canada to raise money for cancer research at just 21 years old. He ran a marathon a day, 42 kilometres, battling snowstorms in Newfoundland, discouragement after being met with small crowds in the Maritime provinces, and occasionally clashing with his friend and driver, Doug Alward.
After 21-year-old Terry Fox was diagnosed with bone cancer, he ran a marathon a day from St. John's, N.L. until he was forced to end his journey in Thunder Bay, Ont./The Canadian Press
Quebec offered little fanfare; he struggled to explain his mission in French and was run off the road by careless drivers. All the while, he battled shin splints, inflammation, dizziness and painful cysts on his stump.
Once he made it to Ontario, word had spread and he became a national celebrity − throwing the first pitch at a Blue Jays game, drawing thousands to Nathan Phillips Square for fundraising rallies, meeting then-prime minister Pierre Trudeau and, his personal highlight, shaking hands with Boston Bruins legend Bobby Orr.
By the time Fox made it to Thunder Bay on foot, in September, 1980, the cancer had returned, this time in his lungs, and he died the following June. He ended his journey without ever accepting corporate sponsorship, inspiring Canadians everywhere to donate to cancer research.
Terry Fox strides out from Sault Ste. Marie on August 13, 1980 during his Marathon of Hope run.Dennis Robinson/The Globe and Mail
Earlier this year, I was reminded of how deep our national love affair with Fox still runs. I was one of the few thousand people packed into Toronto’s Scotiabank Theatre to watch a two-minute, high-production short film commemorating his cross-Canada run.
In the clip, an actor playing Fox strides up a mountain and stops, before the shot turns to face him and reveal legions of people following in his shadow, all to the appropriate tune of Courage by the Tragically Hip. The crowd watched in silence, mesmerized by this recreation of Canadian folklore.
The Terry Fox Foundation produced the short film to mark the 45th anniversary of his historic run, celebrated this year on Sept. 14. It also partnered with Adidas to rerelease Fox’s vintage running shoe, the Orion. The shoe may not match today’s carbon-plated racing sneakers, but as a style statement, it totally holds up.
Terry Fox in the documentary "Run Terry Run."HO/The Canadian Press
The foundation could have held out for the 50th, but this year – for several reasons – felt like the right moment to stir Canadian pride. And with nearly a billion dollars already raised for cancer research, is there really any point in waiting to celebrate?
It’s also a salute to Fox’s lasting legacy. A few weekends ago, I drove past Ottawa’s Terry Fox Drive to reach Terry Fox Stadium, site of the Canadian track and field championships. Across the country, there are monuments on both coasts, multiple theatres and even a mountain in B.C. bearing Terry Fox’s name.
Then there are the Terry Fox Runs, which have taken place across PEI’s Confederation Bridge, at thousands of schools in Canada every year and in dozens of countries around the world, including the U.S., China, New Zealand and Vietnam.
More monuments bear his name than those of several former prime ministers, but Fox’s story continues to endure so powerfully.
Opinion: How Terry Fox’s Marathon of Hope almost ended right after it started
Certainly, there have been faster runners and wealthier philanthropists to walk the True North. Fitness culture of today has popularized the FKT (fastest-known time): leading to dozens of people trying to cross long expanses of land − such as Canada − in record time. Mark Kent crossed our country in 1974 to raise money for the national Olympic team; so did Steve Fonyo, another cancer-stricken amputee in 1984. In 2022, Dave Proctor became the fastest man to run across Canada, in 67 days; and several others have since tried to break his record.
And yet, none of that seems to threaten the real estate that Terry Fox occupies in our heads and hearts – because he was the first to do it. He put his body and life on the line before the age of social media and influencers, before there was any realistic probability of fame-from-stunt, or money from brand-building. And yet, he influenced a country far more than almost any Canadian ever has; and today, as the pot of donations continues to grow, he still does.
A marathon a day – on one leg, no less – is a wildly impressive accomplishment; though a legend that reaches across generations to tug at our heartstrings may be the greatest feat of endurance Fox has ever accomplished.