“I didn’t invent this race; I just fell in love with it as a kid.”

If not for this fortuitous twist of fate in the life of Neil Phipps, the 2022 Beaton Classic might never have come to be.

Like most that frequent the Sudbury summer quadrathlon with a degree of regularity, the man who has largely guided the event through the past decade or so first wandered in this direction in his younger years as a participant.

In the case of Phipps, it was much younger years, when he was not nearly prepared enough for the challenge unto which he was about to embark.

At the age of 14, the Lockerby Composite freshman who had dipped his toe into the general realm of athletic competition via the Sudbury Fitness Challenge a few summers before teamed up with friend and neighbour Paul Makinen, tackling the Beaton as a pairs’ team.

To Phipps, it somehow seemed like a good idea to volunteer for the swim and the run, his Finnish nordic ski sidekick agreeing to do the canoe and the bike. “I had never swam a mile before the first time I did it (the Beaton) and I certainly had never run ten miles,” harkened Phipps. “That was, for sure, the hardest day of my life at that point.”

“But that’s what people did. That was part of the magic.”

That’s why following a stint at Trent University and the incredible life experience that British Columbia would offer the northern Ontario lad, the lure of the Beaton remained strong, even two decades later.

By then, of course, Neil Phipps was a much more seasoned athlete. In fact, the original decision to move to B.C. was to pursue his potential as a triathlete. “I moved west to see if I could become good at something,” he said with a laugh. “I was working to try and support athletics, but I was easily distracted – and there’s just too much out there.”

“Before I knew it, I was spending more time mountain biking than road biking.”

For six years or so, he would manage a Running Room store in the middle of Vancouver, though it was the after-hour pursuits that he craved. “I quit that for a trucking job that allowed me to rock climb more regularly up in Squamish,” said Phipps. “For me, it was: how can I make enough money to spend more time in the mountains.”

The ideal marriage, to a certain degree, would come courtesy of a position with Norco Bikes, virtual legends in the industry from their start in a chicken coop back in the late 1960’s. “I was totally immersed in the leading edge of mountain biking at a time when mountain biking became what it is.”

“I was in the world mecca of mountain biking, working in the mountain biking industry, being in a front row seat. It was pretty cool.”

But by 2009, it was time to come home.

And while Phipps wasted little time finding races of all sorts as he settled back in Sudbury, a skill-set he had acquired administratively over the years would work its way into the picture.

“One of my NAC (Northland Athletic Club) coaches in high school was one of the guys the City hired to organize the Sudbury Fitness Challenge,” said Phipps, reminiscing of the involvement of Mike Innes. “Running for him, you were either competing or organizing. I got a real look at the behind the scenes aspects – and really enjoyed it.”

“When I moved out west, I also got involved with friends who were putting on triathlons and adventure races and trail runs. I would be the technical guy for an adventure race or a run and gradually gained quite a bit of experience out there.”

That said, it wasn’t with an eye on becoming head honcho of the Beaton that Phipps initially opened this door.

Rather, it was the memories of Fitness Challenges gone by crossing paths with the current involvement, as participants, of him and girlfriend Sara McIlraith. The battle for the points race to claim Mr Fit and Miss Fit Sudbury had apparently gone extinct – even though the Fitness Challenge events still existed.

“Honestly, I just dug up the results from all of the (2010) races to see if this was a true Fitness Challenge, where Sara and I would fit in,” said Phipps. “It seemed like I was the only person alive who still remembered the old formula.”

From there, and with nobody else leading the charge, the segue to caretaker of the Beaton Classic was an all-too-natural move. Throughout the ebb and flow of entries, and with the 2022 race paying the price of the pandemic, Phipps now deals with the cycle that has become his norm.

“Every year, leading into the Beaton, I’m pretty sure that things are going to go horribly wrong,” he said. “And every year, it goes reasonably smoothly and there’s that post-race euphoria where I think I can bust this thing open next year. That lasts about two weeks for me and then the grind of life begins.”

That might not be quite the same as the Beaton Classic memories that Neil Phipps recalls – but if not for the man behind it all, there would be no Beaton Classic memories being made these days – and that would be a shame.