In the world of competitive sports, doubt can be just as fierce an opponent as any rival on the water. For Chris Jarvis, one of the defining moments of his athletic career came not from a race lost or a personal setback but from the words of his college coach, who openly doubted whether Chris could handle the demands of varsity rowing with type 1 diabetes (T1D).
Chris had always aimed high. Growing up in a small town in Ontario, he had set his sights on rowing in the Ivy League. Brown University was his dream school. He had the grades, the rowing success, and even a strong financial aid package lined up. Instead, Chris ended up at Northeastern University, a solid rowing program but not the elite stage he had envisioned for himself. To make matters worse, Chris’s high school rowing team had already beaten Northeastern at the Head of the Charles, one of the most prestigious rowing regattas in the world. Stepping into the Northeastern program, Chris was carrying the weight of missed opportunity and a sense that he was already ahead of the team he was joining. But the real gut punch came when he arrived on campus.
Chris, who had been managing his diabetes carefully for years, asked his coach where he could store his juice boxes, essential for managing his blood sugar levels during training. The response was chilling. The coach told Chris that if it were up to him, Chris wouldn’t even have a scholarship. Legally, the coach couldn’t take it away, but the message was clear: Chris wasn’t truly welcome there. Most athletes would have been shaken. But Chris? He was enraged. “I was conflicted, but I was more enraged than I was discouraged,” he admitted.
Being told he wasn’t good enough wasn’t just insulting, it was a challenge.
Chris turned that doubt into fuel. He didn’t just want to make the team; he wanted to dominate. And he did. In his very first season at Northeastern, Chris was part of the varsity boat that competed in the Head of the Charles. The year before, Northeastern had placed 17th in that race. That year, with Chris in the boat, they won it. A gold medal. Against the same field where Chris’s high school team had beaten Northeastern the year before. “That very quickly changed the course of the coach’s beliefs about what I was capable of,” Chris recalled with a smile.
But his success wasn’t just about talent; it was about proving to himself that he belonged, no matter what anyone else thought. Chris’s rise at Northeastern didn’t stop with that gold medal. He became a leader on the team, eventually earning the role of captain. It wasn’t just his rowing that set him apart, it was his resilience.
Chris had already learned how to manage the physical challenges of competing with T1D. Now, he was proving that he could overcome the mental ones too.
That experience shaped how Chris would approach setbacks for the rest of his career. When his team was disqualified at the Athens Olympics despite making the finals, it was devastating, but Chris had already learned that failure wasn’t the opposite of success. It was part of the process.
Today, Chris carries that same mindset into I Challenge Diabetes, the organization he founded to support other athletes with type 1 diabetes. He knows firsthand how powerful it can be to prove the doubters wrong, but more importantly, he knows that the real victory comes from proving it to yourself.
His story isn’t just about athletic success. It’s about the power of persistence. When others said he couldn’t, Chris didn’t walk away. He stepped up, pushed harder, and turned doubt into dominance.
This is part two of a five-part series, detailing Chris Jarvis’ story, and the origins of I Challenge Diabetes, compiled and written by ICD intern Hodan Abdi. Check out part one here!
