Vital Role of Physical Activity and Sport
Inquiry--Debate Continued
April 16, 2026
Colleagues, I thank Senator Marty Deacon for drawing the Senate’s attention to a matter as important as the vital role that physical activity and sport play in our well-being and in the lives of our communities.
Today, I want to share a perspective from my region, Cape Breton and Nova Scotia.
In rural areas like ours, physical activity is part of everyday life. It is not limited to competitions or major sports events. It is part of our culture, our routines and our community.
Social life in our small communities often revolves around arenas, baseball diamonds and school gymnasiums. They’re the places where families gather, where volunteers give generously of their time and where young people learn important values like teamwork, perseverance and respect.
I vividly remember spending time at the arena and the gym when I was in school and later when I took my daughters to badminton or volleyball. These are the places where parents and locals gather to cheer on their kids, where neighbours share news and where the entire community comes together.
I also have many memories of winters spent on frozen ponds playing pick-up hockey for hours, often until someone reminded us it was time to go home to a hearty meal: fricot, chiard, meat pie or a stew.
These experiences may seem simple, but they are profoundly formative. From a young age, they instill in us a love of physical activity, the joy of being active as well as the importance of friendship and connecting with others. These activities build character and help forge friendships that often last a lifetime.
Nova Scotia has produced many athletes who have been phenomenally successful on the national and international stage.
Everyone has heard of Cole Harbour’s own Sidney Crosby, who is a three-time Stanley Cup champion and a double Olympic gold medallist with the Canadian team. His historic overtime goal at the 2010 Olympic Games remains one of the most memorable moments in Canadian sport.
Then there is Nathan MacKinnon and Brad Marchand from Halifax, whose talent and determination rank them among the best hockey players in the world today.
Nova Scotia’s contribution to Olympic sport doesn’t stop at hockey. Colleen Jones of Halifax, who passed away recently, won the Women’s World Curling Championship in 2001 and 2004 and was a six-time Canadian champion.
I am also thinking of Mark de Jonge, also from Halifax, who won a bronze medal in sprint kayaking at the 2012 Summer Olympics.
We can also be proud of Ellie Black, an exceptional gymnast from Halifax, who has represented Canada at several Olympic Games.
Did you know that Nova Scotia founded the Colored Hockey League of the Maritimes and that goalie Frank Cook became its star player? The league lasted from 1895 to 1935.
The Colored Hockey League of the Maritimes was the first and only all-Black hockey league in Canada. It existed at a time of widespread discrimination. It played a key role in the evolution of hockey and in the fight for equality. For every athlete at this level, there are thousands of other Canadians who practise a sport or remain physically active simply for fun or for staying fit.
In my region of Cape Breton, physical activity is also deeply connected to our natural environment.
I live along the Cabot Trail, a panoramic route known around the world for the beauty of its landscapes, but also as a great destination for road cycling or running. Cycling the 300‑kilometre Cabot Trail always gives the many enthusiasts who tackle it each year an incredible sense of accomplishment.
The Cabot Trail Relay Race, held every May, takes place over 24 hours and in 17 stages. Seventy teams from Nova Scotia, Canada, the United States and around the world take part in this event.
This year is the thirty-sixth edition of the race. Nothing can stop these brave runners, not total darkness, rain, hail, snow or the 9- to 14-degree slopes of the North, South, French and MacKenzie Mountains.
Personally, I can say that physical activity has always been part of my life.
I cycle and cross-country ski regularly, and I swim in the waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, which is just a five-minute walk from my home. Over the Easter break, I skied across the Cape Breton Highlands plateau for 10 consecutive days, sometimes in the company of my brothers and my friends Juris Lazovskis and Eric Atkinson, who is a former classmate of Senator Moreau. Last Thursday, to round out the season, we spent 15 hours crossing the backcountry plateau of Cape Breton Highlands National Park.
When I was young, in my village and in my family, physical activity was in our blood. Were sport, physical activity and the great outdoors good for our health? We didn’t care. What we cared about was what we were going to play, with whom and where — that and what we were going to have for dinner, of course.
In the 10 houses located on a half-kilometre stretch along Caveaux Road, where I lived, there were about 70 kids, all of them bursting with energy and testosterone. There were 10 kids at John Joe’s place, 9 at Louis’s place, 12 at Pierre’s place, 10 at Patsy’s place, 7 at my Uncle Paul Émile’s place, and last of all, 10 at our place: nine boys and one girl.
Every day in summer and after school in the fall and spring, we would play baseball, field hockey and football. We would go to the beach and up to the mountains too. In winter, we’d play hockey and go sledding. We’d spend hours building snow forts and then having snowball fights, something that kids today aren’t allowed to do. Even though sport was part of my life, my asthma stopped me from keeping up with my brothers at times, but I didn’t give up.
We heard Senator McBean and Senator Petitclerc talk about their determination, their achievements and the importance of staying active. Your discipline and exploits are remarkable.
In contrast, I want to tell you about some ordinary people, though as it turns out, they’re not so ordinary after all. I’ve already told you about “One Gear Dan,” who cycled the Cabot Trail in a single gear, about my friends Brooks, LeBlanc and Sullivan, who cycled it in a single day, and about Lee Fraser, who regularly guides snowshoe groups across the Cape Breton Highlands plateau.
Today, many of the people my age, or even younger, are no longer with us, including four of my brothers. However, of the 70 neighbours I knew when I was young, most of those who stayed active are still with us today.
In my first year of university, I joined the reserves and completed my military service. I went skydiving day and night, and I rode in helicopters and tanks. What a wonderful adventure; the discipline I gained still guides me today.
Let me tell you about Johnny, who once caught two foxes in a mad race. At the age of 14, he discovered that if he stood on the balls of his feet, he could set off running whenever he wanted. He has not walked since. He is now 84 years old, always stands ramrod straight and has regaled me with many stories of his exploits. He’s proud of his feats.
In my province, and in my region of Cape Breton, we see the positive effects of staying active every day. Unfortunately, we often see the opposite — the negative effects on people who are not physically active. That is why it’s important that, as a country, we continue to promote access to sport and physical activity for all Canadians.
By investing in physical activity, we are investing in the health of Canadians, in the well-being of our youth, and in the strength of our communities.
In closing, I would like to highlight the recent release of the final report from the Future of Sport in Canada Commission. This commission was established by the Government of Canada to review the Canadian sport system and make recommendations on concrete and effective actions with respect to improving safe sport and the sport system in Canada. The final report sets out its key findings, calls to action, and proposed next steps to foster meaningful and lasting change. All we can do now is hope that the Government of Canada acts swiftly to transform sport.
Honourable senators, even the last runner in a race is ahead of those who aren’t running. You have to keep moving if you don’t want to get rusty.
Thank you.
Honourable senators, today I rise filled with pride and gratitude as we continue to celebrate the remarkable achievements of Team Canada on the world stage. Our Canadian athletes have once again demonstrated to the world what dedication, perseverance and teamwork truly look like. Whether on the ice or down the slopes, they have represented Canada with great humility, excellence and integrity.
I want to extend my heartfelt congratulations to each and every member of Team Canada. You have inspired a nation, and you have made Canada proud.
The Olympic Games remind us of something powerful — that sport, at its very best, brings humanity together. The Olympic spirit is rooted in friendship, respect and excellence. It transcends language, politics, borders and identity. For those brief but unforgettable weeks just a short time ago, the world gathered not in division but in celebration of human potential. We cheered not only for victory but also for courage, determination and resilience.
That love of the game, that deep belief in sport as a unifying force, runs deep within Canadian identity. In towns and cities across this country, hockey rinks, football fields, swimming pools, basketball courts, lacrosse fields and community gyms are more than places of competition. They are places where young people learn teamwork, discipline and belonging. They are spaces where friendships are forged and confidence is built. Sport teaches us how to win with humility and how to lose with grace. It teaches us to lift one another up and to keep going even when the odds feel overwhelming.
For many Canadians, sport is where they first discover their strengths. It is where they experience the pride of pulling on a team jersey, the responsibility of supporting teammates and the exhilaration of pushing beyond perceived limits. It is where we build lifelong memories and defining traits of our character. Sport shapes individuals, and, in doing so, it shapes our country. Just look at our Prime Minister.
We also know that competition and rivalry are part of what makes sport so compelling. The powerful collection of Canadian novels on which the television show “Heated Rivalry” is based upon reminds us of this fact. Set within the fictional world of professional hockey, the story explores an intense on-ice rivalry that evolves into something far more personal, illustrating the complexity, pressure and passion that define competitive sports.
What makes “Heated Rivalry” so culturally significant is not only its portrayal of elite competition but also its recognition that identity, including sexual identity, exists within these high-performance spaces. As an iconic Canadian work, it challenges traditional narratives about who belongs in hockey and reminds us that, even in the most heated rivalries, athletes are human beings deserving of respect, dignity and authenticity.
But as much as sport unites us, it can also expose where we still have work to do.
Sport has not always been welcoming to everyone. For too many Canadians, particularly 2SLGBTQI+ athletes, and especially transgender and non-binary athletes, sport has too often been a place of exclusion rather than belonging. For some, stepping into a locker room has been an act of courage. For others, joining a team has meant bracing for rejection rather than embracing opportunity.
When a young person steps onto the field or the ice, they should feel the thrill of the game, not fear whether they will be accepted. They should be thinking about the next play, the next goal and the next lap, not about whether they are safe or seen.
This issue is not abstract for me. Long before I had the honour of serving in this chamber, I was working in classrooms and communities, advocating for safer and more inclusive sporting environments. I listened to young people who loved their sport deeply yet questioned whether their sport loved them back. I heard stories of isolation, silence and also of incredible courage.
That work led to the creation of Pride Tape, a simple idea with a powerful message. Pride Tape began as a roll of hockey tape designed in rainbow colours, something that players could wrap around their hockey sticks to signal that 2SLGBTQI+ athletes are welcome in the game. It was not about politics. It was about belonging. It was about creating a visible sign that says, clearly and simply, “You are safe here. You are respected here. You belong here.”
When the Edmonton Oilers became the first NHL team to use Pride Tape, it sent a powerful message not only to fans in the arena but also to countless young people watching at home. It told them that hockey belongs to them, too. That small strip of rainbow tape became a symbol of inclusion, hope and possibility.
Since that debut back in 2016, Pride Tape has been featured in more than 60 countries and has been used in multiple sports, including hockey, curling, bobsledding, lacrosse, baseball, tennis, dodge ball and so many other sports and activities. But the tape itself is only a symbol. The real goal has always been cultural change to foster sporting environments where respect is non‑negotiable and inclusion is the norm — a culture where diversity is seen not as a challenge to be managed but as a strength to be embraced.
Today, one of the most urgent conversations in sport concerns transgender athletes. These are young people who love sport. They train hard. They show up early for practice. They commit to their teammates. They dream of competition and belonging just like any other athlete. They deserve policies grounded in evidence, fairness, compassion and human rights, not fear, misinformation and political ideology.
We know from research that inclusive sporting environments improve mental health outcomes, reduce isolation and increase participation. We also know that exclusion can have serious and lasting harm. When young people are pushed out of sport, they lose not only the physical benefits of participation but also the social connections and sense of purpose that sport provides.
Inclusivity is not the weakening of sport; it is the strengthening. When every athlete feels safe and respected, performance improves, team cohesion improves and the love of the game grows deeper. Sport thrives when it reflects the diversity of the communities it serves.
As legislators and leaders, we have a responsibility to foster respectful dialogue and support evidence-based policies. We must ensure that our national sporting institutions uphold fairness while also honouring the dignity and rights of all Canadians. We must send a clear message that discrimination has no place in Canadian sport, just as it has no place in Canadian society.
When a transgender girl laces up her skates, when a non-binary athlete steps onto a basketball court and when a gay teenager joins a hockey team, they should feel exactly what our Olympic athletes feel: pride, excitement and possibility. They should feel that their country stands behind them, not in judgment but in unqualified support.
The measure of our country is not just the medals we win. It is the values we uphold. It is whether we create safe spaces where every young person can thrive. It is whether we are willing to ensure that sport remains a place of opportunity, joy and belonging for all.
Let us be a country where the love of the game truly belongs to everyone. Let us ensure that when young Canadians see Team Canada standing on the Olympic podium, they see a future where they too can participate fully and authentically as their true selves. Let us build a sport culture that reflects the very best of Canada — fairness, respect, compassion and courage.
Sport has the power to unite us. It reminds us that we are strongest not when we exclude but when we play together as one team.
The incredible cultural phenomenon of “Heated Rivalry” has taken the world by storm. Why? Because ultimately it is a human story. It is not just about sport but about the importance of authenticity, belonging and love. These are truly Canadian values that should not only be emphasized in sport but throughout all of our society.
Please join me in once again congratulating our Team Canada athletes and sport enthusiasts everywhere. May your determination and excellence continue to inspire us, not only in competition but also, more importantly, in our shared commitment to fairness, respect and inclusion in all aspects of sport and society.
Thank you. Meegwetch.
Honourable senators, I want to begin by thanking Senator Marty Deacon, Senator McBean and Senator Petitclerc for bringing forward this inquiry. It is an important inquiry, and it’s one that I suspect resonates with many of us, not just as legislators but as participants, parents, coaches and fans. I also want to say that my contribution in the world of sport and fitness pales in comparison to my colleagues who brought forward this inquiry. I’m a little sheepish in speaking about any of my activities or experiences. I did mention that to our honourable colleague when I considered doing this.
In these halls, colleagues, sport and physical activity are often discussed in policy terms: health outcomes, economic benefits and participation rates. All of those matter. But at its core, sport is something much more human. It is where we learn discipline, resilience and teamwork. You also learn — or should learn — how to lose with grace and also how to win with grace.
I can say that from personal experience. In 1981, I had the privilege of participating in the Canada Summer Games held in Thunder Bay. I was a rugby player. Rugby teaches you a few things very quickly: how to take a hit, how to get back up and how much you rely on the people beside you. You learn that no one gets very far on their own. And for colleagues who may not know, rugby has some unwritten rules — these rules apply to life as well. When you take someone down and the play ends, you help them back up. At the end of the game, the victors are clapped off the field and they, in turn, clap the vanquished off the field. In the case of playing back in Newfoundland and Labrador, you would probably share a pint. The game is competitive, but there is a strong emphasis on camaraderie.
Those lessons stay with you, and like many Canadians, I never left sport behind. I still play hockey every week. I’m still involved in rugby, I hike a lot and I train regularly. I’m convinced that while an active lifestyle doesn’t reverse the signs of aging, I know that it slows it down.
I have also taken those lessons into a very different arena: high-altitude mountaineering.
When people think of Newfoundland and Labrador, they don’t usually think of high-altitude anything. We live pretty much at sea level. Over the years, I have climbed in the Andes, the Himalayas, the Alps, the Rockies and the Russian Caucasus, and I have been fortunate enough to summit the highest peaks on three continents. Colleagues, there is nothing quite like it.
High-altitude mountaineering is not glamorous. It is cold and windy. You’re carrying massive loads of gear — food and water, sleeping gear, stove and fuel, crampons, axes and ropes. And if you’re operating at altitudes where the oxygen is less than 40% of the oxygen at sea level, you are also carrying oxygen. And you question why you’re doing this as your hobby. During every climb on the way up, I say to myself, “This is my last climb.” And after summiting — if I’m fortunate — and coming done, I start planning the next one.
That’s generally the trajectory of doing hard things: I love the planning, hate the doing and love the result. That becomes fuel for the next one.
But it also teaches you something powerful: It teaches you preparation and resilience, and above all, it teaches you humility because the mountain doesn’t care who you are. There is no scoreboard, no crowd and no second period if you don’t do well in the first. You respect the environment of the climb because everything conspires against you.
I once spent 17 days on a mountain — Aconcagua in the Argentine Andes — with a climber from Lebanon. Climb high, sleep low — that’s the remedy for altitude sickness because if you get altitude sickness, the only recourse is to descend and end the climb. My Lebanese friend ended his climb 300 vertical metres from the summit of Aconcagua, which is the highest peak outside of the Himalayas. It is a 6,961-metre mountain. That’s seven kilometres high. The last 300 metres is a near-vertical rock and ice climb that takes about three hours. In fact, we had two Argentinian guides who turned back hours before. One had severe headaches — a clear sign of altitude sickness — while the other was throwing up blood, which is even worse. There were three of us left to summit on our own. My Lebanese friend and tentmate had to turn back because he was out of water, and he was showing signs of dehydration, but we still had summiting and returning to high camp in front of us. There was no choice for him.
In many ways, the lessons of preparation are not different from what sport teaches us at every level: planning, preparation, teamwork and execution. It is truly just like life.
Whether it is rugby, hockey, climbing or walking, sport keeps us engaged. It keeps us connected. It keeps us grounded.
Our three colleagues’ inquiry rightly points to the broader benefits of sport in our society.
We know that physical activity improves health outcomes. We know it reduces strain on our health care system. We know it builds stronger communities. And, of course, it builds a lifetime of friendships.
But I would suggest there is another layer to this. Sport is one of the few spaces left in our society where people come together across differences — many differences — such as age, background and politics. None of it matters when you are on the field, on the ice or on the mountain. You are simply part of a team or part of a shared challenge. That is something we should not take for granted.
At the same time, we must acknowledge that access to sport is not equal, and it’s not what it once was. Costs are rising. Time is scarce. Equipment can be expensive. For too many families, participation is becoming a challenge rather than a given. And the curse of electronics is ever present and something that we didn’t have to consider when we — well, most of us — were young.
If we believe, as I think we all do, that sport is essential to the fabric of Canadian life, then we must think seriously about how we maintain and expand access, because the value of sport is not just in producing the next Olympian. It is in producing healthier, more resilient, more connected citizens and happier people.
There is something else worth saying. In a country as vast and diverse as Canada, sport has always been a unifying force. Whether it is hockey on a frozen pond, rugby on a muddy field or even climbing a mountain half a world away, these are the experiences that shape us. They don’t make headlines. They do not require legislation. But they matter. So as we reflect on this inquiry, I would encourage us to keep that broader perspective in mind.
Yes, we should consider policy. Yes, we should consider investment. But we should also recognize the intangible value of sport: the life lessons it teaches, the communities it builds and the role it plays in shaping who we are.
One of the things I’ve come to appreciate over the years is that sport has a way of staying with you, even as everything else changes. You may not move as fast, you may take a little longer to recover, and your teammates may get noticeably younger every year, but the feeling never really leaves.
That sense of stepping onto the ice — which, as I said, I do every week — or onto a field or setting out toward a summit, not knowing exactly how it will go but knowing it will challenge you and knowing it will be worth it, that is something special.
It is something we should do everything we can to preserve, not just for ourselves but for the generations coming behind us. Because long after the scores are forgotten and the games are over, it is the experiences, the friendships, the lessons and the moments that stay with us. In many ways, they help shape the people we become and the ones we raise.
Thank you, colleagues.
