Pain is of the mind, but it sure as hell hurts in the body
A story of victory - of overcoming any perceived limitations or labels placed upon yourself, and, consciously choosing who you are and what it is you can achieve, for if you truly believe, nothing is out of reach.
MEMORIES
Vlad Grigoras
2/7/20246 min read


Pain is of the mind, but it sure as hell hurts in the body.
I must’ve really pissed off quite a few people in my past lives to end up hiking 60km in 12 hours with severe ankle deformity & arthritis, as well as acute, chronic back pain. Can’t imagine the Gods were pleased with me either, since I somehow ended up doing it again - this time going for 82km in 18 hours, half of which were done wearing barefoot shoes.
As much as I enjoy complaining, this is a story of victory - of overcoming any perceived limitations or labels placed upon yourself, and, consciously choosing who you are and what it is you can achieve, for if you truly believe, nothing is out of reach.
When I initially set out to complete the entirety of the Hong Kong Island hike in half a day, I was not sure what to expect. I knew my foot and back hurt on the daily, but I somehow thought I’d transcend that on the hike. The reality was quite different. By km 20 I thought to myself - “hm. Do I truly go on to finish this? My feet and back are pulsating with pain”. The body said “no”. The rational mind said “please stop”, but louder than anything my soul said “Finish what you started”.
My most vivid memory is running up Butler Peak in the intense and scorching heat of Hong Kong’s noon. I was out of water and all of my friends had run ahead of me, so I was left to battle this on my own. As I kept telling myself “one more step. keep going”, I suddenly realise I am no longer able to see colour. Everything turned into a shade of gray, black and white, and my balance became wonkier and wonkier. Shit. Did I push too hard? Is this it? Will I pass out and hopefully get found by some other hikers? As these thoughts rush through my head I feel my heart beating in my right hip. Wait, a second. That’s not my heart. That’s a kiwi I brought for times of crisis. As I continue running, I take it out of my shirt’s pocket and take a bite out of it, skin and all. Immediately, I feel life force flowing through me, generating more power than I knew I had left. I kept running for the next 20 minutes and managed to catch up to my friends, telling them everything that transpired, as I immediately chug down on as much water as I could. Thank fuck I made that.
The rest of the hike did not get much easier, but my mind got stronger. Feel the pain and keep walking, what else can you do - Big Wave Bay Beach is still a way off. As Paul and I reached the beginning of the last peak we’d have to mount - Dragon’s back - I was at the last of my capabilities. Seeing my heavy breathing and limping, this elderly woman passing by us laughed and said “Already? It’s just the start”, to which I, with strength in my voice, replied “This is your start. My start was in Kennedy Town, the Western end of the island”.
I’ll never forget the feeling of the sand as I collapsed, finally finishing the 60th kilometre. I was free to lay around next to the crazy bastards that I called my friends, basking in our success.




Part 2
For some reason I thought the first episode of the saga prepared me to undertake the second one in cheap barefoot shoes, so that I could “Grip the ground and feel the Earth”. At about the tenth kilometre, a rock pierced through the muscles of my left foot and left me limping from the start. As the steps drew on it became harder and harder to continue my hike. By kilometre 30 I had hit a serious wall. I was questioning my reasoning, strength and choices. Everyone had said it’s fucking ridiculous to even attempt this hike in barefoot shoes, but I thought myself smarter than the rest. Here I was paying the price for it. Justinas talked me through my pain and helped give a spring to my step, as I struggled to lift what was left of my feet. When we finally got to kilometre 40 and took some rest, I was completely demoralised. I sunk my feet in the cold water hoping for some relief, but was left in just as much pain. I was ready to quit, realising that there was no way I could go on. My feet were completely destroyed and my psyche was at its lowest. Then, Justinas’ dad popped around with his car to come and cheer us up. I got a bit of energy from seeing his smile and kind nature, but I certainly did not expect this man to offer me his shoes so that I would keep on going. Although two sizes smaller than mine, this gave me the cushioning I needed to keep at it. I could feel my toes being crunched up and the bones crushing into each other, but I could walk again. And for as long as I can take another step, God forbid I do not. I went on.
Throughout the hike I lost my mind in delirious episodes with Jamie, who acted as the Spongebob to my Mr. Krabs. I watched Danny completely overtake me while running side-by-side, which made me feel nothing but deep admiration and joy. I got to cheer Sara on for a few more kilometres as her hips were ripping her apart with pain. I was so stunned and proud of her continuing to walk, taking it step-by-step, breath-by-breath, despite the excruciating pain she was in. What an inspiration.
As I got cut-off from the rest of the group, around km 65, left all alone to figure the route out and with the skies darkening, I realised I had to run, so run I did. I pushed through the pain and the thundering void in my lungs, yelling louder and louder “WHO’S GONNA CARRY THE BOATS… AND THE LOOOOGS”. I channelled as much as I could of my inner Goggins and pushed at it for the next 30 minutes. Suddenly, I see the most beautiful sight I could see - Rune. Finally, I caught up to the group. As I reach him, he tells me the others took a detour to catch a pretty view, so I run up the steps. The others walking down, point me to a shortcut to save some time and energy, to which I, still high from my run, yell back “I DON’T TAKE NO SHORTCUTS”. The view was stunning and symbolised my victory - I had done it. Now, the group keeps on keeping on.


I don’t know when it happened, but after a few walls, I reached a point of psyche breakdown. I remember walking, although with the group, alone with my thoughts, as Misha was chanting “All the people to my left - WAP BAM BOOGIE. All the people to my right - BOOGALOO”. I thought I for sure had reached hell. My feet felt like they were walking on burning knives, my brain felt tense and my inner light was getting dimmer and dimmer, and then, it happened. Jamie looks at me and says “bro I think this might be it for me”. Shit. We tried to slow down and keep going, but it became clearer and clearer that both of us were in a dark place. And since neither of us had a flame to our candles, we were left to sit in our darkness, and so chose to call it quits as we reached kilometre 82. To our dismay, Justinas’ dad came to the rescue with snacks and a kind-hearted smile. Rune, David, Jamie and I rode home as we waved to the others, saying a silent prayer for them.
Looking back, I think I could’ve kept on going, but at what price? Would a few fleeting broken toes be worth the eternal glory, maybe so, but there’s no way to tell. Regret can eat at you if you let it, so I know that next time I will give it all I have, like I did in Hong Kong. For now, I’ll bask in the success of my attempt, for there are no failures, only growth opportunities. A strong mind may keep walking with broken feet if its “WHY” is strong enough. A weak mind will stop even with the strongest of bodies. This is a mental game, not a physical one, for pain is of the mind, but it sure as hell hurts in the body.