The past couple days have been extremely difficult.

I wasn't able to sleep at all Monday night. I stared at my computer screen in disbelief that the truest friend I had ever known had passed on. I clutched my phone thinking of who to call and came to the realization that in a situation like this, I would have turned to Evan.

There are no words to express the impact Evan has had on my life. Not only was he a training partner, friend, mentor, kindred spirit, and brother to me, he was my rock. Although Evan had his own demons to battle with, he was always there for me.

I miss him deeply.

For a short period of time Evan allowed me to walk alongside him on his journey. As honoured as I am to be able to say I joined Evan on his path, he always ensured that each step I took was my own.

One of the greatest memories I have of the time I shared with Evan was the day we spent training at the Red Rocks (a collection of beautiful calcified sand dunes just outside the heart of Las Vegas).

Neither of us particularly enjoyed our morning run down Flamingo Street, it was too cluttered, too plastic. We needed something different, and the Red Rocks offered a great alternative to the gated communities we ran through in Las Vegas.

As we scoped out the mountain in front of us, we roughly planned our route to the top. Once we agreed on the path we were going to take, we wasted no time tackling the obstacle in front of us.

It was ridiculously hard to keep up with Evan. He scaled the mountain seemlessly, in and out, over and under large formations as if they were non existent. We stopped only to take pictures. Once we reached the top we discussed how amazing the earth truly was, and the beauty in how close we were to civilization yet so far removed at the same time. There was a peaceful calm in the air.

Evan turned his back to me and jumped down a small section of the peak. Ill never forget what he said next, "See you at the bottom Ian, you'll find your own way down". I watched in shock as Evan took off down the mountain in his trusted Sprawl hoodie. An article of clothing that had experienced as many ups and downs as the man himself.

After a few moments of shock, I began to scale down the mountain in the opposite direction as Evan. I was making good progress until I reached a large separation in the rocks. I desperately searched for an alternative route but there was no escape, I had to jump. The fear I felt was larger than the mountain we had just scaled itself.

All of a sudden I heard Evans voice. "Just flow Ian, you'll be fine". He had been monitoring my progress and knew I was headed towards a potentially dangerous situation, yet he let me try and overcome this obstacle on my own before he interjected. I pushed myself off the cliff and we were off on our separate ways again. We reunited at his landcruiser parked at the base of the mountain.

As difficult as it has been for me to come to terms with Evans passing, it has only solidified one of the many things that Evan had emphasized while we were together... this path is mine to forge, and although the footsteps are my own, I am not alone.

I will try my best to continue moving forward as Evan would have wanted. There will undoubtedly be more instances where I will be forced to confront the depth of my being and sadness along the way. However, I will hold the memory of Evan in my heart for the rest of my days, and know that when I reach the next drop off in my life, Evan will be there to guide me through it, just as he has always been.

Until we meet again, "just flow". 

p.s. Your feedback and comments have managed to bring a smile to my face throughout these dark days. Evan touched so many lives and I am thankful to have been a part of his life, and now, through your comments and support, a part of yours.