Dave Beauparlant

Dave Beauparlant

Toronto ON
Canada

The emotion of cancer is a raging sea that tries to drown you, but in the darkest depths, it only fed the fire of the warrior I had to become.

It is a relentless, crushing weight that tries to extinguish your hope and pull you under. But instead of breaking, I let the cold reality of the storm fuel a burning, unyielding resolve. I am the fire that refuses to be put out, standing firm against the waves, proving every day that cancer may have started the storm, but it CANNOT KILL THE FLAME OF A WARRIOR.

Hi everyone, I’m Dave Beauparlant.

My journey with Leukemia began on December 28, 2023. Before that day, my body was in a deep shutdown—I’d lost 70 lbs in months and had zero energy left. It took my wife, Krystal, looking at me and saying, "David, you are going to the hospital and THAT’S IT." She saved my life.

The news didn't come in a private room; I found out right there in the hallway. A nurse told me I had Leukemia. I didn't even know what the word meant until Krystal looked at me and said, "David, you have cancer," and we both broke down right there. The doctor had me signing papers for life-saving measures on the spot. For one dark day, I thought about giving up—but then I looked at my family, and the fight was on.

Even on the oncology floor, I refused to stay put, walking 30+ laps a day. Just 2 1/2 months after diagnosis, I was back on the job. Today, I’m an Operations Manager in the mining sector, leading a crew of 30+ through grueling work. I’m in the trenches with boots on the ground, balancing daily oral chemo with 12+ hour shifts.

I haven’t hit remission yet, but I am keeping positive and fighting the fight. Cancer is fighting with a warrior—a Viking that refuses to GIVE UP. Every morning, whether you want to or not, you get up. You get dressed, look in the mirror, and tell yourself: "I’m a fighter. I’m a warrior. And I’m going to beat this."

I lead by example, whether I’m in the field, around the boardroom table, or on my Harley-Davidson. Last year, we completed our first annual ride: 1,000 miles in 20 hours, raising over $20,000 for the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society of Canada. We chose this grueling ride to show a tiny fraction of what fighting cancer is all about—the exhaustion, the grit, and the long-distance travel many must endure for treatment.

This year, the mission is for my dear friend Ben Dugas, who we lost on March 6, 2026. Ben told me we’d beat this together, and I’m making sure he is never forgotten. I am incredibly honoured to be this year’s Honoured Hero for the LLSC. Cancer is part of my journey, but it doesn't set my pace.

STILL STANDING, STILL MANAGING, STILL FIGHTING.

TAKE THE WORLD AND MAKE IT YOURS AGAIN.

NEVER GIVE UP