Cypress Challenge 2025 – Can I Finish This 12km Climb in Under 1 Hour?

Today was the day. The Cypress Challenge.

A 12-kilometer ride, 700 meters of climbing, and a race I wasn’t totally sure I was ready for.

I parked, got my gear sorted, tried to settle my nerves. I’ve been training, sure—but that question kept echoing: Did I do enough? You never really know until you’re out there.

Before the climb even started, I had to descend. And honestly? That part freaked me out.

I hadn’t practiced much. Thirty minutes of descending wasn’t something I’d ever done, and I really felt it in my hands—worried that I’d pull the brakes too hard and go over the handlebars, or just lose control and go careening off the road.

I kept coming back to this piece of advice I heard once—that descending is all mental. And if you want to enjoy it, just say it out loud: I love descending!

So I did. Over and over, like a mantra.

Then a deer crossed the road in front of me. And you know, from that point on, I did love descending.

The start line park was beautiful that morning—clear views of the water and UBC. Hard to believe I’d been riding over there just a week ago.

Around me, riders were quietly doing their own prep. I had some cramping from the descent, so I used the time to walk it off and stretch.

Now, all that was left was to wait for the race to begin.

I lined up at the back of the under-one-hour group.

It felt ambitious.

I’ve never done a timed hill climb like this before, but something in me wanted to see what was possible. Worst case, I’d blow up. Best case? I’d surprise myself.

When the race started, I settled into a pace that felt manageable.

Not easy, not hard—just steady.

I reminded myself: it’s a long climb. No need to burn out early.

The first half went by smoother than I expected.

But after that midpoint sign? Everything changed.

My legs started screaming. The road felt longer. The crowd thinned out.

I just kept chipping away. This was the part I wasn’t sure if I was prepared for.

So I stopped thinking about the finish.

I picked a rider ahead of me and just… followed.

Not racing them—just borrowing their rhythm.

It gave my mind something to hold onto while my body kept grinding.

I kept glancing down at my new bike computer.

I’ve got my watch, but this was different.

Just like those Form swim goggles I used in my last swim race—something about seeing numbers helps me get through the pain.

Weirdly, watching the distance barely tick forward made it easier.

I wasn’t moving fast. But I was moving.

And somehow, I made it!

Gun time: 59:59.

I laughed when I saw it. One second to spare.

I have a knack for coming really close to the wire with my finishes—having completed a few run races with just a second over the minute. I don’t really know what this says about me. But I don’t mind it.

Getting to the top felt incredible.

Not just because it was hard. Not just because I hit the time.

But because it reminded me: this is only the beginning.

There’s a whole world of rides, challenges, and climbs ahead.

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Preparing to Climb Mt. Cypress, West Vancouver | Cypress Challenge 2025 Journey

2 Weeks from Cypress Challenge

This summer is flying by. Honestly, this whole year is. Sometimes it feels like my life is flashing before my eyes. Most days are just the same routine: wake up, work, sit at a computer, eat, sleep. The days tick by, and it’s kind of terrifying.

There’s not much we can do to stop time. We’re all getting older—it’s just something we have to accept. But while that’s inevitable, there is a way to make life feel more alive: do something new. So today, I’m doing exactly that. I’m cycling up Burnaby Mountain to SFU.

SFU’s one of my favorite spots in the Lower Mainland. I’ve always had good memories here. I was never a student, but back in the day, I’d come up just to take advantage of the student bar discounts. Like I said—good memories. And today feels like a mix of nostalgia and preparation for something ahead.

This ride is part of my training for a challenge I’ve set for myself in two weeks: the Cypress Challenge. SFU sits at the top of a mountain, but compared to Cypress, it’s only a quarter of the climb. So while today’s ride is a decent workout, it’s just a warm-up for what’s coming.

Time’s moving fast, and I never seem to have enough of it. Cycling, as a hobby, takes a lot of time—and long four-hour rides have been hard to squeeze in lately. My training’s been compact, and today’s ride is no exception. Still, I wanted to get at least a few climbs in before the big day. And this one counts.

I’m a small guy, which helps on climbs, but that doesn’t make them easy. Still, I love the challenge. I like the suffering. I like how it becomes a mental game. Being on a bike, knowing that if you stop, you lose momentum—it creates this pressure that somehow invigorates me. Climbing a mountain on a bike reminds me that I’m alive.

Time’s rushing past. Relatives are dying. Friends are having babies. Everyone seems too busy to do anything anymore. So the fact that I made it out here today, that I’m climbing this mountain—it feels like a small metaphor for surviving in the modern world. You work, you sweat, you push yourself to reach the top… only to come back down.

That’s endurance sports. That’s creative work. That’s life.

I’m cycling the Cypress Challenge to raise funds for pancreatic cancer research. Thanks to everyone who donated—I really appreciate it. Together, we’ve raised over $1,000. Thank you so much.

Now… let’s ride up SFU and look ahead to Cypress. I’m still here. I’m not on my deathbed yet. How do I know? Because there are still memories left to make. Life hasn’t fully flashed before my eyes—not yet.

Today is one week before the Cypress Challenge—a 700-meter climb up one of Vancouver’s North Shore mountains. It’s a charity ride for pancreatic cancer, and when I signed up, I knew I’d have to start finding some hills to train on.

Last week, I climbed SFU. This week, I went to another university I’m not enrolled in—UBC.

UBC is a bit of a labyrinth. Every time I ride here, I get a little lost. But that’s part of the fun. I’ve found a couple of climbs I really enjoy around this area, and those are what I tackled today.

Honestly, training for this ride has become more than just preparation—it’s been an excuse to get out the door. An invitation to explore places I wouldn’t normally go. I’ve ridden to beaches I would visit otherwise, through neighborhoods I’ve never passed, down roads I didn’t know connected.

Lately, travel’s felt far away—too expensive, too time-consuming, too complicated. But every time I throw a leg over my bike, it feels like a little trip. A brief escape from whatever’s waiting on my laptop or buzzing on my phone. 

Training gives my days structure. A shape. And even when I’m tired, even when the hill ahead looks brutal, I’m glad for it—because it means I get to go somewhere.

It’s not just about the Cypress climb next week. It’s about all the quiet victories along the way—the early mornings, the sore legs, the new routes, the accidental detours.

And maybe most of all, it’s about showing up. For myself. For this cause. For the people who are climbing much harder mountains than I ever will on a bike.

So yeah—today was another ride, another climb. But it also felt like a reminder: I’m lucky I get to do this. I’m lucky training pushes me to try, to move, to explore.

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