Zac Chunko was a relentless force—brilliant, intense, and always chasing the next challenge. He lived with a rare self-awareness, navigating the highs and lows of life with a mix of resilience and humor.

Fitness was more than a passion; it was a battle he fought constantly. He had times where he was heavier, but he always pushed himself to get back, cracking jokes at his own expense—“It’s funny ‘cause I’m fat”—as if to beat anyone else to it. Music, too, was second nature. He wasn’t just good at guitar and piano—he was incredible. Skateboarding ran in his veins, and he never picked sides, showing love to every shop and every skater. His sense of humor was razor-sharp, his loyalty unwavering. If he was roasting you, it meant you mattered.

Zac carried deep scars from loss in his early 20s, wounds that never fully healed. He wrestled with substances, with self-doubt, with the weight of his own thoughts. But he never stopped fighting—never stopped pushing forward.

His life was chaotic, raw, and real. And for those who knew him, that was exactly why he was unforgettable.