Translation of this article, where Charlie explains his reasons for retiring.
At the time of writing, I have not yet announced it to my coaching staff or my partner, Lubov Ilyushechkina.
But my decision is irreversible: it's over. Today I am officially turning the page. I say goodbye to figure skating.
It's an indescribable relief. A feeling of freedom like I haven't felt in a very long time.
At the same time, I feel guilty and I dread the moment when I'm going to have to tell them. I know it will be a hard blow for Lubov and for Richard Gauthier, our head coach. But for once, I want to listen to myself, follow my instincts and, above all, take the time to explore what life without skating has to offer.
The reality is that I got back into this project when I was already down on one knee. Exhausted from the last few years, I got back on track with a new partner, like a good workaholic.
After the Pyeongchang Games in 2018, everyone was surprised by my break-up with my old partner. After all, Julianne Séguin and I had pulled off a tour de force by placing in the top ten couples at our first Olympic Games, despite a course full of pitfalls and injuries.
But something inside me had broken without me really understanding it. When I came back from South Korea, I thought I needed a change of scenery. A complete renewal to get my career back on track. A fresh start to get my motivation back. What I wanted to avoid at all costs was making the same mistake I made during my first Olympic cycle. I had let figure skating take up all the space.
I'm a jack-of-all-trades. My energy is generated by my ability to have a diverse life. That's what feeds me. But elite sport no longer allowed me to keep that balance.
My whole life revolved around one goal: going to the Games. Once I achieved that goal, I wondered what the next step would be like.
Since the age of 14, when I left the family nest in Trois-Pistoles alone to move to Montréal, I wanted to accomplish something bigger than myself. To prove to myself that I could achieve what seemed, at the time, a utopia.
This may sound strange to you, but I'm not a figure skating enthusiast. I'm more of a lover of sliding, in all its forms. But it was in skating that I had the greatest talent. If I wanted to achieve my Olympic dream, this was the best vehicle to get there. So I got on board. I told myself that if I could get there, I would be happy, fulfilled and life would open up for me.
And I did it! To this day, I still can't believe it. I am and always will be a member of the Olympic family.
And then the emptiness came. And instead of looking it in the face, I kind of ignored it.
On the front, everything was fine. I even managed to make myself believe that everything would be better with a new partner. That I was going to find happiness in skating with Lubov. When we started our new partnership in February 2019, my goals were clear.
I had already achieved my first dream, which was to participate in the Games. If I was ready to embark on a new adventure, it was for the medal. To be on the podium was my ultimate goal.
But I promised myself that I would do it with balance in my life. I was going to put all the necessary energy into training, but I was also going to keep some space to cultivate my other interests.
During the year I stayed away from my sport, I revisited some of my old passions. I started renovating my condominium myself and went back to school full time. I took some time for myself. But I was still blinded by greed. I wanted an Olympic medal at all costs.
That's when the opportunity to skate with Lubov presented itself. I contacted her, and before long, the chemistry set in. We had three years to form a strong partnership and become competitive enough to aspire to an Olympic podium. We surrounded ourselves with a new team. We joined Richard Gauthier's school, which welcomed us with open arms.
The honeymoon lasted almost a year. We were lucky enough to have the world championships in Montreal in 2020. We thought it would be an incredible springboard to establish our reputation on the world stage. It was not a foregone conclusion since five Canadian couples were fighting for two passes. But we were confident. We had a phenomenal and very promising start to the season. Everything seemed to indicate that we had a realistic chance of getting our spot on the Canadian delegation.
We worked hard. We trained even harder.
Then skating slowly came back into my life. It took over the whole place.
We had to place in the top two at the Canadian championships to get our ticket. But the closer the championships got, the harder the training got. The stress was omnipresent. What was natural for us at the start now seemed more complicated. We were struggling to improve our technical content while maintaining a high level of performance.
I could see the competition coming, and in my heart of hearts, I doubted it. I even talked to my psychologist about it.
"There are days when I wish I could hurt myself to have an easy way out. To have a reason to withdraw and move on. »
When she asked me if I wanted to go deeper into my reaction, I took offense. I said no!
I can't dig down to understand what's at the bottom of these thoughts for fear of realizing that I'm somewhere else in my life.
I was in denial.
It was in that state of mind that I went to the Canadian championships. But don't think I didn't take this competition seriously. Lubov and I gave it my all. But the result was disappointing. After a strong short program we had a counter-performance in the free skate that took us out of the race.
Against all odds, Skate Canada decided to wait until after the Four Continents Championships to name the second couple to compete at worlds. I should have welcomed this opportunity... We had another chance to qualify.
But deep down inside, I still had this discomfort. A kind of ball that was gradually invading me. Even at home, I wasn't the same person anymore. I didn't have any energy left. Skating drained me instead of motivating me.
It was really hard. And that's when it hit me. I told myself that, at worst, the four continents would be my last competition. Worst case scenario, I'd retire.
When I got home, I went back to see my psychologist and we analysed what was behind my discomfort.
And when it became clear to me, I felt so relieved!
So I skated for the last time at these championships. Two poor performances. I'm sorry, but I'm not surprised. My soul was gone. And to be successful in figure skating, you have to be invested with your whole being. I just couldn't do it anymore.
I'm also feeling a sense of guilt. Guilt for Lubov and Richard, but also guilt for Julianne.
She will always be the person I had the best time with in my career. She's the one I've worked with through the greatest trials and tribulations of my career. I hope she understands that the problem wasn't her. Our breakup was probably a big blow to her. Julianne may have even felt that it was because she wasn't up to it, but it wasn't. I had to change my environment and explore something else to see where my lack of motivation came from. Was it the context of my training? Or was it deeper? Today I know. But to know for sure, I would have had to shake up a lot of things around me.
Lubov and Richard have now been advised. It's not ideal to make this kind of announcement by video conference, but with the confinement, I had no choice. Lubov wanted us to call each other to plan the next step. I had to tell her the conversation wasn't going to be the one she was expecting.
I understand it's a big disappointment to them. Especially for Lubov, who dreamed of competing in her first Olympics with me. I realize the sacrifices she's made and it breaks my heart to feel sorry for her. But I also feel that, in some ways, Richard understands me. Richard has always wanted his athletes to be happy. I wasn't happy anymore.
The world of figure skating has given me a lot. I have met people who have accompanied me on this journey and helped me become the man I am today. To the coaches, choreographers, psychologists, federation members and all the skaters with whom I have shared so many great moments, I want to say thank you.
To Julianne and Lubov, rest assured that I have always been honest in my approach.
The dream I have cherished all my life is behind me and I realize that this accomplishment has not changed who I am. To be precise, I love the person I have become and what I have accomplished through my athletic journey. But I'm mad at myself for believing that all that mattered was the finish line. I promise myself that I won't take that approach again.
Most importantly, I realized that what I saw as a finish line was really just the beginning of my life.
Skating is part of who I am. But it's not who I am.
I find it exciting not knowing what the future will be made of. It leaves all the doors open for me. I can't wait until after COVID-19 to see what's behind it.
Charlie Bilodeau - Enfin libre | Sports | Radio-Canada.ca
« Ma décision est irréversible : c’est terminé. Aujourd’hui, je tourne officiellement la page. Je dis adieu au patinage artistique. C’est un soulagement indescriptible. Un sentiment de liberté comme je n’en ai pas éprouvé depuis très longtemps. »
ici.radio-canada.ca
At the time of writing, I have not yet announced it to my coaching staff or my partner, Lubov Ilyushechkina.
But my decision is irreversible: it's over. Today I am officially turning the page. I say goodbye to figure skating.
It's an indescribable relief. A feeling of freedom like I haven't felt in a very long time.
At the same time, I feel guilty and I dread the moment when I'm going to have to tell them. I know it will be a hard blow for Lubov and for Richard Gauthier, our head coach. But for once, I want to listen to myself, follow my instincts and, above all, take the time to explore what life without skating has to offer.
The reality is that I got back into this project when I was already down on one knee. Exhausted from the last few years, I got back on track with a new partner, like a good workaholic.
After the Pyeongchang Games in 2018, everyone was surprised by my break-up with my old partner. After all, Julianne Séguin and I had pulled off a tour de force by placing in the top ten couples at our first Olympic Games, despite a course full of pitfalls and injuries.
But something inside me had broken without me really understanding it. When I came back from South Korea, I thought I needed a change of scenery. A complete renewal to get my career back on track. A fresh start to get my motivation back. What I wanted to avoid at all costs was making the same mistake I made during my first Olympic cycle. I had let figure skating take up all the space.
I'm a jack-of-all-trades. My energy is generated by my ability to have a diverse life. That's what feeds me. But elite sport no longer allowed me to keep that balance.
My whole life revolved around one goal: going to the Games. Once I achieved that goal, I wondered what the next step would be like.
Since the age of 14, when I left the family nest in Trois-Pistoles alone to move to Montréal, I wanted to accomplish something bigger than myself. To prove to myself that I could achieve what seemed, at the time, a utopia.
This may sound strange to you, but I'm not a figure skating enthusiast. I'm more of a lover of sliding, in all its forms. But it was in skating that I had the greatest talent. If I wanted to achieve my Olympic dream, this was the best vehicle to get there. So I got on board. I told myself that if I could get there, I would be happy, fulfilled and life would open up for me.
And I did it! To this day, I still can't believe it. I am and always will be a member of the Olympic family.
And then the emptiness came. And instead of looking it in the face, I kind of ignored it.
On the front, everything was fine. I even managed to make myself believe that everything would be better with a new partner. That I was going to find happiness in skating with Lubov. When we started our new partnership in February 2019, my goals were clear.
I had already achieved my first dream, which was to participate in the Games. If I was ready to embark on a new adventure, it was for the medal. To be on the podium was my ultimate goal.
But I promised myself that I would do it with balance in my life. I was going to put all the necessary energy into training, but I was also going to keep some space to cultivate my other interests.
During the year I stayed away from my sport, I revisited some of my old passions. I started renovating my condominium myself and went back to school full time. I took some time for myself. But I was still blinded by greed. I wanted an Olympic medal at all costs.
That's when the opportunity to skate with Lubov presented itself. I contacted her, and before long, the chemistry set in. We had three years to form a strong partnership and become competitive enough to aspire to an Olympic podium. We surrounded ourselves with a new team. We joined Richard Gauthier's school, which welcomed us with open arms.
The honeymoon lasted almost a year. We were lucky enough to have the world championships in Montreal in 2020. We thought it would be an incredible springboard to establish our reputation on the world stage. It was not a foregone conclusion since five Canadian couples were fighting for two passes. But we were confident. We had a phenomenal and very promising start to the season. Everything seemed to indicate that we had a realistic chance of getting our spot on the Canadian delegation.
We worked hard. We trained even harder.
Then skating slowly came back into my life. It took over the whole place.
We had to place in the top two at the Canadian championships to get our ticket. But the closer the championships got, the harder the training got. The stress was omnipresent. What was natural for us at the start now seemed more complicated. We were struggling to improve our technical content while maintaining a high level of performance.
I could see the competition coming, and in my heart of hearts, I doubted it. I even talked to my psychologist about it.
"There are days when I wish I could hurt myself to have an easy way out. To have a reason to withdraw and move on. »
When she asked me if I wanted to go deeper into my reaction, I took offense. I said no!
I can't dig down to understand what's at the bottom of these thoughts for fear of realizing that I'm somewhere else in my life.
I was in denial.
It was in that state of mind that I went to the Canadian championships. But don't think I didn't take this competition seriously. Lubov and I gave it my all. But the result was disappointing. After a strong short program we had a counter-performance in the free skate that took us out of the race.
Against all odds, Skate Canada decided to wait until after the Four Continents Championships to name the second couple to compete at worlds. I should have welcomed this opportunity... We had another chance to qualify.
But deep down inside, I still had this discomfort. A kind of ball that was gradually invading me. Even at home, I wasn't the same person anymore. I didn't have any energy left. Skating drained me instead of motivating me.
It was really hard. And that's when it hit me. I told myself that, at worst, the four continents would be my last competition. Worst case scenario, I'd retire.
When I got home, I went back to see my psychologist and we analysed what was behind my discomfort.
And when it became clear to me, I felt so relieved!
So I skated for the last time at these championships. Two poor performances. I'm sorry, but I'm not surprised. My soul was gone. And to be successful in figure skating, you have to be invested with your whole being. I just couldn't do it anymore.
I'm also feeling a sense of guilt. Guilt for Lubov and Richard, but also guilt for Julianne.
She will always be the person I had the best time with in my career. She's the one I've worked with through the greatest trials and tribulations of my career. I hope she understands that the problem wasn't her. Our breakup was probably a big blow to her. Julianne may have even felt that it was because she wasn't up to it, but it wasn't. I had to change my environment and explore something else to see where my lack of motivation came from. Was it the context of my training? Or was it deeper? Today I know. But to know for sure, I would have had to shake up a lot of things around me.
Lubov and Richard have now been advised. It's not ideal to make this kind of announcement by video conference, but with the confinement, I had no choice. Lubov wanted us to call each other to plan the next step. I had to tell her the conversation wasn't going to be the one she was expecting.
I understand it's a big disappointment to them. Especially for Lubov, who dreamed of competing in her first Olympics with me. I realize the sacrifices she's made and it breaks my heart to feel sorry for her. But I also feel that, in some ways, Richard understands me. Richard has always wanted his athletes to be happy. I wasn't happy anymore.
The world of figure skating has given me a lot. I have met people who have accompanied me on this journey and helped me become the man I am today. To the coaches, choreographers, psychologists, federation members and all the skaters with whom I have shared so many great moments, I want to say thank you.
To Julianne and Lubov, rest assured that I have always been honest in my approach.
The dream I have cherished all my life is behind me and I realize that this accomplishment has not changed who I am. To be precise, I love the person I have become and what I have accomplished through my athletic journey. But I'm mad at myself for believing that all that mattered was the finish line. I promise myself that I won't take that approach again.
Most importantly, I realized that what I saw as a finish line was really just the beginning of my life.
Skating is part of who I am. But it's not who I am.
I find it exciting not knowing what the future will be made of. It leaves all the doors open for me. I can't wait until after COVID-19 to see what's behind it.
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Not that I any longer consider Charlie so thoughtful in his decision, but it might have been best for her health. Now, it's just a pattern of treating those he works with terribly while he moves forward with his life. It's too bad.
