December 16, 7:25 p.m. — MVP Showcase, LIV Nightclub
Before every major battle, there comes a moment when an athlete can no longer hide.
No more excuses.
No more closed doors.
No more blind spots.
The lights turn on.
The crowd is there.
The test is no longer physical—it’s social.
6:45 a.m. — The body comes online
Leïla is up early. Very early.
At 6:45 a.m., a text appears on our phones. She’s already in fight mode.
JF joins her without hesitation and prepares breakfast. Nothing is left to chance. Every bite matters. Every hour too.
On my end, I mix business with pleasure. I go for a run with Mathieu Casavant. He’s here in several roles, but above all as Sugar Neekz’s manager. He suggests an easy run. Max 5 km, he says.
Photo: Matt Casavant / IG – with Cherneka Johnson
I fool him.
We do 7.5.
Miami wakes up while we sweat. The body heats up, the mind falls into place.
Cameras, coffee, and control
Back at the hotel, I pick up Michelle Joy Phelps in the lobby. We head to Leïla’s room. For about twenty minutes, the two of them talk in front of the camera. Natural. Calm. Authentic.
Everything goes perfectly.
Leïla continues eating every two hours under JF’s watchful eye. At 10:30 a.m., she does 30 minutes of cardio while JF lifts weights on his side. Each with their role. Each with their tempo.
Afterward: lunch.
For me: picking up the accreditations needed for the week and handling a few small details.
Organization is invisible… until the moment it isn’t.
Photo: Samuel Décarie-Drolet – Marie-Christine Gougoux with Leïla Beaudoin
Waiting for the pillars
We’re waiting for Dr. Marie-Christine Gougoux. Her flight lands at 12:15 p.m. in Miami.
Julian, the ever-elegant driver, is at the airport to welcome her.
I order Uber Eats. Nearby restaurants are outrageously expensive, and I want her to be properly welcomed. She’s so fantastic—she deserves it.
But Uber Eats gets it wrong. Again. Third mistake of the week.
Instead of Mediterranean dishes: pho soup.
They refund us, so in the end it doesn’t cost much. I place the order again so everyone can eat.
In the meantime, I think about Marie-Christine.
I met her several years ago through her late husband, Dr. Francis Fontaine—our team doctor. A passionate, kind, generous, funny man, with a very unique sense of humor. You were never bored with him.
Photo: Marc Ramsay / IG – Christian Mbilli and Francis Fontaine
He worked with national teams, from freestyle skiing to the famous Montreal Canadiens. He was good. Very good. And in high demand.
People often say that behind every great man stands a great woman.
With Francis, the great woman wasn’t behind him. She was beside him.
Together, they founded the Chiromedic Clinic in Laval—a multidisciplinary clinic where doctors, chiropractors, and physiotherapists work without barriers. The result: you get back on your feet faster. I love that place. When you get hit by monsters all day long, your body remembers.
Dr. Gougoux is a doctor of chiropractic, a graduate of UQTR, and a multiple award winner. She is exceptional. Her energy, her attentiveness, her smile… everyone loves her. Freestyle skiing, tennis, boxing—everyone wants to take her everywhere.
Unfortunately for the others, she doesn’t split herself.
This week, she’s with us.
Photo: Vincent Ethier – Leïla Beaudoin and Elhem Mekhaled
The fight she saved
This is the second camp where she’s worked with Leïla.
During the fight against Elhem Mekhaled, the intensity of the camp caught up with Leïla. Her usual physio, Bastien, was traveling. She was banged up. Seriously.
I was seconds away from canceling the fight.
I called Marie-Christine. She hadn’t yet fully returned to work after Francis’s passing. Her response was simple, human, immense:
> “Sam, I haven’t started treating patients again…
> but I’ll go see Leïla for you.”
Leïla’s and Marie-Christine’s personalities clicked instantly.
She saved that fight.
And I think she also remembered why she does this job.
Treatment, timing, and gigantism
When she arrives, JF and I help with her bags. Immediate destination: Leïla’s room. The schedule is tightly woven. It’s treatment time.
While she works, I go check her into her room.
After the treatment, Marie-Christine devours the mistakenly delivered pho soup.
Then it’s off to the MVP offices for poster signings.
She’s impressed.
So are we—again.
Huge photos of Leïla cover the hotel walls.
Gigantic. Inevitable.
Impossible to hide.
Mandatory rest
Between 4:00 and 5:00 p.m., Leïla rests.
Mandatory rest.
Non-negotiable.
She needs to stay focused.
Jade arrives after her training. Jean-Sébastien, Leïla’s partner, joins us as well. At 5:00 p.m., it’s dinner. Simple. Efficient.
Photo: MVP – Leïla Beaudoin
At 6:25 p.m., we get ready for the public workout.
7:25 p.m. — Ten minutes to show who you are
The LIV Nightclub.
An improbable place for a boxing workout.
Lights. Bass. Screens. Crowd.
The boxers go one by one. Ten minutes each.
Ten minutes to tell the world: this is who I am.
There’s a boxing card the same evening. Initially, the public workouts were supposed to take place between fights. But the ambulance is stuck in Miami traffic. You can’t start the show without it.
So we adapt.
The energy is electric.
Leïla moves.
She punches.
She breathes.
Everything is there. The rhythm. The gaze. The confidence.
She forces nothing. She owns the space.
Then it’s off to a conference room. Leïla sits behind a podium, microphone in hand. About a dozen journalists ask her questions. She answers calmly. Solidly. She does this well—she impresses us. She seems completely in control.
Back to calm
Back at the hotel, excitement blends with fatigue.
Marie-Christine gives Leïla one last massage.
Then everyone goes to bed.
All things considered…
it was a very good day.
