Jonathan Huard: Before and After October 15, 2016
On a beautiful sunny afternoon, on a quiet rural road in autumn, Jonathan Huard rides his motorcycle. Passionate about anything that brings an adrenaline rush, he takes one last lap, smiling, before rejoining his friends, a campfire, and his life. October 15, 2016, was not supposed to be a date to remember for the now 32-year-old. And yet, on that day, his life suddenly stopped. Had it not been for a soulmate passing by, his heart would not have restarted. A few chest compressions brought him back—to a life that would never be the same again. It’s October 15, 2016. Jonathan Huard is 29 years old, with eight broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder blade, two collapsed lungs—one of them punctured—a partially fractured spine, and, among other injuries, his skull disconnected from his cervical spine. It’s October 15, 2016, and he is in the intensive care unit at Sacré-Cœur Hospital, where 99.9% of patients in such a condition do not survive beyond 24 hours.
Three years later, the man from Saint-Lambert is hitting punching bags and training with Paul Bourgoin in the Kickbox-Fit class at the Centre Multisports. Three years—a lifetime since then.
Before October 15, 2016
Like many boys his age, Jonathan Huard spent most of his childhood running, playing, and moving around: “The school wanted to put me on Ritalin,” he says, “because I was too hyperactive.” His parents enrolled him in soccer, a sport he played for a quarter of a century, mostly as a goalkeeper: “The 200-pound guy, even if I weighed 130 pounds soaking wet, didn’t scare me,” he admits. “If I was going head-to-head with someone, I wasn’t going to back down.”
Jonathan is the kind of person who picks up a new sport and plays as if he’s done it all his life. A friend would call him to go snowboarding—even if he’d never tried it—and he’d say yes. Just two months before his accident, he was happily surfing at Oasis Surf in Brossard. He lived life at full speed, facing the wind, ready for anything. Anything but rebuilding himself step by step, with a titanium rod in his neck connecting his skull to his spine.
During October 15, 2016
The accident was pure bad luck—a motorcycle whose front wheel aligned perfectly, for a brief moment, with a crack in the pavement during an overtaking maneuver. Loss of control. Violent impact. His body thrown against an immovable utility pole, crashing onto the grass, landing between a row of decorative rocks and a fence lined with sharp posts. A miracle that he landed there. Jonathan remembers nothing of the accident: “It’s like I went to bed Friday night and woke up four days later in the hospital,” he recalls. “The brain shut off everything non-essential to keep the core alive.” Three months in the hospital wearing a cervical collar at all times. A year of outpatient rehab. Constant pain, morphine, antidepressants, job loss, endless insurance procedures—he crossed a desert before arriving at a first oasis.
After October 15, 2016
One of those oases took the form of a Kickbox-Fit class offered at the Centre Multisports by coach Paul Bourgoin. While flipping through the centre’s magazine, Jonathan found the spark he needed to reconnect with the energy, drive, and fitness he once had. Kickbox-Fit opened a rare door: “I needed something—to burn off energy, let out frustration, or just move,” says the man who recently settled in Vaudreuil-Dorion. “I can’t play competitive soccer anymore, because if I fall, I could die. The hardware in my neck could be what kills me.” Knowing no one in Vaudreuil-Dorion, he signed up for the class not knowing what to expect, except to be surrounded by people motivated to train: “My way of pushing myself is seeing someone doing a bit more than me,” he explains. “I want to push harder, catch up, or do the same. I’m competitive—that comes from being a soccer player. I also love the camaraderie. We help each other out.” In Paul Bourgoin, Jonathan found an experienced coach who adapts his classes to his participants: “Paul always found something that fit my abilities—he adapts,” says the young man. “I needed a coach to guide me.” “He’s a medical miracle,” says Paul Bourgoin. “He keeps improving. At first, it was tough. He can’t do certain exercises due to balance issues, but my job is to give him what he can do.”
Rebirth Through Sport
This is how a confident young motorcyclist saw his life shift, stop, restart, and move in a direction he never expected. Today, Jonathan Huard slowly rebuilds the thread of a new life, letting go of everything that once fueled him. As he puts it, he closes doors voluntarily—for his own safety. He now channels his energy into a racing simulator that would make any F1 driver envious, and he shares his story and passion on the streaming platform Twitch, under the name JoLooN, hoping to grow a strong following. But most importantly, he has begun to climb back toward his goals, reconnecting with an outlet like Kickbox-Fit—always under the shadow of a sword of Damocles: “I don’t want to miss out on life’s joys,” he says, “but at the same time, I have to be careful. It’s like COVID: if people go out, they risk catching it. Me, I always risk doing an activity that could cost me my life.” Everyone walking into the Centre Multisports has a reason for being there. Everyone has a story. Jonathan Huard has his—and more than ever, he stands as someone who quietly inspires.