Ah. 48:14.

There’s nothing like running through the foggy finish line at the peak of Vancouver, knowing that a new personal record awaits. My legs were burning and lungs screaming in pain. Crossing the finish line, the ground became my solace.

I started challenging the Grouse Grind back in May. Getting started in the beginning was quite tough, where a hike took beyond 1 hour. By late August, though, I found myself tackling the trail 3 to 4 times per week and averaging the hikes at around fifty minutes. The whole experience of climbing, being immersed in nature, and reflecting on life gradually became a beautiful and rewarding part of my life.

Some inspiring numbers from today’s race:

• Top time: 25:24
• Not so speedy, but nonetheless admirable time: 2:24:47
• Over half of the 0-12 age group finished in under 48 minutes
• Majority of the 60-69 age group finished in under 50 minutes
• One participant in the 75-99 age group finished with an amazing time of 47:51

As soon as my “wave” started the race, I watched curiously as people started running up the relatively easy beginning of the trail. I was passed by countless figures, but reminded myself to stick with a comfortable pace and not get carried away by the crowd mentality. Not surprisingly, a few minutes later, many of the racers were already breathing heavily while a couple even rested by the side of the trail.

My moment to shine came after the half-way point (twenty-five minutes into the race), where I made a consicous effort to push ahead. Push ahead I did, over mud, tree-roots, rocks, and countless steps — passing a large number of racers in the process. Then it was down to the final quarter, the part of the hike that I like to call the “stairway to heaven”. Before I even realised, I was already beginning to emerge out of the woods. I was a couple of minutes from the finish line. By that point, my lungs could hardly keep up. The only thing that kept me going was the thought that a new personal best was in the making.

Little did I know that the most challenging part of the race waited for me. After using up the last of my energy reserves and sprinting past a handful of racers at the end of the trail, I was greeted with what seemed like an impossible marathon: a short stretch of gravel road that twisted itself around the Grouse Mountain lounge — a surprisingly short but brutal jog uphill, towards the finish line. I would have slowed down were it not for all the amazing people by the side of the road, cheering me on. I owe many thanks to them.

I felt absolutely wonderful, despite a painful run across the finish line with frozen hands and rigid arms. There’s no feeling like completing the Grouse Grind Mountain Run on a beautiful Sunday morning and emerging out of the clouds to see Vancouver, below, bathed in sunshine.