Vancouver’s Grouse Grind

Ancient sentinels by Danvic Briones

The Grouse Grind® is a 2.9-kilometre trail up the face of Grouse Mountain, called Mother Nature’ s Stairmaster. It is located in Western Canada.

I signed up to conquer The Grind.

But it conquered me.

When Sun Tzu said “subdue the enemy without fighting”, I didn’t know he was talking about mountains.

And there, on top of craggy stairways, winding their way to a seemingly unreachable top, on a tough terrain that has been peppered with foggy breaths and hardened determination, I found out – I am not superwoman.

What a relief.

I walked the walk of shame down The Grind.

And felt no shame at all.

I found out that I was okay with failure. It teaches me lessons, and lifts the weight of hundreds of years of humanity striving to be at the top, abhorring failure, applauding (but secretly pitying) tries.

Sure, I struggled with my own excuses – no sleep for several days, no exercise, bad diet – finding some that rang true and then throwing them out the window.

Because it did not matter.

Because I was failure’s student that day.

And she had some things to teach me.

That going down the mountain is as beautiful – and as challenging – as going up. Little stones, some sturdy, some not, barks of trees, and the wondrous sun filtering through the canopy and the cacophony of birds had a magic all its own. My husband reaching out his hand every step of the way; me sliding a little bit here and there, slowing my heartbeat, flexing my legs and my knees, finding paths that gladly met me, and then some that resisted. Meeting fellow Grinders, some probably perplexed at my seeming capitulation.

I did capitulate. I had to (the alternative was to slide down the mountain in a fit of a slowly closing tunnel vision – it would have been more dramatic, yes, but I was not ready for a tragic outcome yet).

But I was so proud of my team. Some had to claw their way to the top, some struggled with their own frailties and private concerns but they did it.

I had another story, yes.

But when I was up there, defying gravity and suffering because of it, trying to find pathways amidst the steep stairs, a small fleck on that beautiful mountain, scrambling to the light – I was reminded of my mortality, of how everything (even the hardship of going up that mountain) is temporary, that thinking of what people would think or say is a fun (and painful) exercise but totally unnecessary, that sometimes I have to slow down, or even give up, to learn the lessons.