When I was growing up, my mom mentioned the name Terry Fox several times. Having never gone to a school that held or contributed fund-raising for a Terry Fox Run, I didn't really know much about him. All I knew was that he was some guy that ran across Canada with only one leg. Although my mom told me his story to inspire determination, it meant very little to me as a kid. To me then, he was just some schmo that was determined to do something ridiculously stupid. Even then I knew how big a country Canada is.

It is now 25 years after Terry Fox's Marathon of Hope. I've come to unravel and piece together a truer version of his story through coverage from The Toronto Star and the CBC, commemorating and celebrating this anniversary. When I was younger, I never understood what actually transpired. Even basic facts--that he ran to raise money for cancer research or that he never completed his journey across Canada--were missing in my rendition of his story. And so, I will start at the beginning.

At the age of 18, a first-year university student, Terry Fox had an amputation above the knee in an effort to remove an osteogenic sarcoma. Surviving chemotherapy, he fostered a conviction to ease the suffering of those afflicted with cancer. He trained every day for his run across Canada to raise $1million for cancer research and eventually took off three years later on April 12, 1980. Past Newfoundland, he ran an average of one marathon a day. That's 26 miles every single day--whether through sleet or rain or the dreadful heat of summer. He ran until he could run no more, 2/3 of the way through his journey. On September 1, 1980--after 3339 miles in 143 days--metastases to his lungs finally overwhelmed the phenomenon people had come to hope was indestructible. He died less than 10 months later, just shy of his 23rd birthday.

Now when I look back at his story, I am incredibly moved. I have been brought to the verge of tears on multiple occasions considering what he went through, ineffably awed by his resolve and strength. My mom, she understood. She knew what he had attempted to do. And to her, Terry Fox rightly epitomized the sense of determination she wanted to instil in me. A man, younger than I am now, had the strength and will to run through countless blisters, to push forward past all the sores from his artificial limb chafing his stump--to persevere day after day with optimism, focus and commitment. Perhaps what impressed me most was the sincerity of his dedication that drove him to run. He didn't want endorsements or fame or to earn even a penny from his quest. In all his interviews, the simple earnestness in wanting to raise money to beat cancer shone most brilliantly.

Having learnt his story, I've become richer. When I consider my own life, I know what challenges I've backed down from and when I've taken the easy route instead of letting ordeals buffet my willpower. The lesson he's taught stirs me; the wisdom of determination he cultivated in his short life compels me to find my goals and work towards accomplishing them. I will always be nonplussed by the sheer enormity of his endeavour and the guts he had to undertake it. Well after his death, Terry Fox continues to inspire. As for millions of Canadians before me, he has become my hero.