It’s been over a year now in B.C., and almost two since the reason I’m really here.

I’ve struggled throughout this time to find my place. To my find my footing. To find friends.

Even as someone with extraverted tendencies, I find myself stuck in a shell of constantly being inside, constantly complaining about all that sucks, and wallowing inside the storm.

Most of the time, the storm = a literal storm, given that it never stops raining here.

Despite all that I’ve written in the past on living in the past and embracing the storm within the present moment, I’ve often become entrenched in my own wallowing surrounding the storm. I can’t help but think of the old me, so incredibly talented and so incredibly passionate.

Passionate about coaching, about TMS, about my work, about my teaching gig at Western. I had so many good things going for me. I mattered to a lot of people.

And it forever feels difficult feeling like most of that has been thrown behind either in pursuit and prioritization of the efforts I put into my work in Ontario at the time, or after it inevitably ended so wrongly against my will.

Opting to forego the dream teaching job in place of moving here always feels like the wrong decision.

I always miss the players I used to coach, and the feeling of importance that stems from an environment like that.

I still struggle with comparing my job in Ontario to what I’ve endured in B.C.

I can’t help but feel like I’m doing nothing with my life now. Contributing nothing. Not helping anyone to thrive, which is always where I get my greatest joy.

But as I’m writing this, as I write this sad sappy article about being stuck in the storm, I’m reminded that I have helped several people this year.

I’m remarkably proud of the work I’ve done coaching runners this year and the achievements they’ve attained. Even more, of the bricks that all of them have stacked to set things up for success in the future.

I’m proud of the work I’ve invested into my relationship, even if it feels like I haven’t invested enough in friends and family beyond that this year.

I’m proud of the written work I’ve put together on this very site, making it the tenth year in a row I’ve produced over 100 publicly available articles out into the world.

I’m immensely proud of the work I’ve put together in my own training, and the foundation I’ve built alongside my coach to set my running up for continued future success.

Even just the investment it’s taken to compete internationally and put myself out there in big races again.

These are the things that I can’t help but feel proud of as the year comes to a close. And even within the storm and my broken record of feeling lost, I’m reminded that there is much in the way of good.

Even without the “good”, I’m never willing to surrender. I’m always eager to create my own “good.”

So as I weather the storm of feeling at a loss of what to do in many directions in my life, and wanting to escape the storm, I’m reminded that not all is lost, and not all is bad.

Suddenly writing this, there sure seems to be more good than bad.

Besides, I’ve always seen myself as someone more than capable of weathering any storm. I think sports teach you that at a very young age. So too did my upbringing. I’ve always chased the dance.

The younger, high school aged Rhys above wouldn’t have settled to maintain in any state of mediocrity. Neither would I have done in my early to mid 20’s.

I don’t just dance in the rain. I don’t just step into the storm. I dance in the storm.

So as the uncertainty over what’s next and the frustrations of not being where I want to be rage on, I know that it’s not time to surrender to the storm. It’s never surrender.

I was born to step into the storm, and I’ll continue to do even more than that.

This article was inspired by Marianas Trench’s song Into The Storm. It’s also part of my end of year countdown, where I share work exclusively inspired by all of my favourite and most impactful songs of 2025.