However, when my sixty-three-year-old mother was about to give up on her quest to complete her third Emperor's Challenge after her racing partner developed debilitating arthritis in her knees and had to withdraw, I found the words "I'll be your partner" blurting out of my mouth.

Finding some good shoes topped my "to do" list. At first I tried out a trail runner, but when they bothered my arch, I decided to stick with my tried and true Asics Gel Nimbus. It turned out that the supplier was out of this year's model, and they had to wait until the new model was available. They were scheduled to come in two weeks before the race. Not ideal, but it would work.

At one point, mom thought it would be better if she did not compete in the race. My dad was diagnosed with terminal esophageal cancer earlier this year. Mom had been under a tremendous amount of stress since dad's diagnosis, so I convinced her that it was something she needed to do for herself. It would be a family affair, as my daughter, Samantha, planned to run the two-kilometre kids' race with her cousin, Ryan.

Just over three weeks before the race, Samantha had an appendicitis attack and ended up having emergency surgery. Instead of continuing with my hill training, I spent several days sitting beside her hospital bed and several more looking after her once she returned home. Before we knew it, race day had arrived.

After the two-hour drive from my parents' home, we arrived and found our parking spot along the gravel road. Samantha remarked with that innocence only a child can get away with, "Mommy, how are you going to do this? Those people look in good shape." There is nothing like a pre-race pep talk from a ten-year-old to boost your confidence.

We checked in and got our race packages, t-shirts, and a few gifts-stuff for muscle soreness and joint pain. I had a feeling I would need those by the end of the day. I had not signed up for a competition race since high school, so I was a bit shocked to see that my age category was a "senior." When did over thirty-five become the new senior?

After lining up for our turn at the port-a-potties, we gathered with the other racers at the start line. There were a lot of people in their twenties, but this is a race for all ages, runners and hikers. Our plan was to hike the climbing sections, and do some interval running on the flat and downhill sections.

A lot of people started off like rabbits, but we took the slow and steady approach. It turned out to be a wise plan and we started passing people after the first kilometre as the switchbacks began. We reached the Boulder Gardens trailhead after two kilometres (or II km, because the distance markers are all marked with Roman numerals). The trail follows an old pipeline, and is a fairly flat, but rough section of the race, so I spent my time watching my foot placement instead of enjoying the scenery.

We headed up an old exploration road on the east side of Babcock Mountain where the trail was rough and quite wet in sections. Jumping over the small mountain streams provided an extra challenge and engaged the mind as well as the body. I actually felt surprisingly well in the first part of the course, but that did not last for long.

The path narrowed and the wind started to howl. My sinuses plugged up, and I could not breathe through my nose-actually I felt like I could not breathe at all. After managing to ward off a stint of hyperventilation, I managed to clear my sinuses and felt the oxygen rush to my lungs again. What a relief.

By marker VIII, we could see a water station and what we thought might be the summit. Wrong. There were some friendly men on quads ready to pick up any racers that could not make it any further. It was a tempting thought, but onward we went. The 8.5-kilometre water station was also the fifteen-kilometre water station, and we could see the runners already making their way down.

Many racers enjoyed some true mountain running on the tundra for the next 5.5 kilometres. However, when we reached the challenging scree slope just before the summit at kilometre twelve, I felt like I was doing true mountain crawling. I had to stop for ten seconds at this point to catch my breath, but mom said she found if she kept going at a slow, steady pace and did not stop, it worked the best, so off we went.

The views at the summit (6,135 feet above sea level) were breathtaking-if I had any breath left to take. I felt on top of the world as we made our way along the ridge. As we headed down into Rift Valley, we were surprised by the unique scenery and two small lakes surrounded by the rocky bluffs. It seemed like every time we thought we were done with the climbing, we would come around a corner and face another hill.

We were ecstatic to see the men at the XV water station that we had seen on the way up. They had a surprise for us this time-a handful of jellybeans. I could have used the sugar rush for that climb on the way up. Mom was like a five-year-old after eating too much Halloween candy. She started chatting non-stop, and seemed to bounce off the rocks in the path like a ping-pong ball. I had to push to keep up.

The adrenaline seemed to build as we reached the home stretch. We ran the final two kilometres, enticed by the cheers in the distance. We could feel the strain of the final uphill stretch, but it seemed fitting to have one last climb in a race that always seemed to throw something else at you when you thought you had already reached your limits.

We were all smiles as we crossed the finish line and received our finishers' medals at a time of three hours, nineteen minutes, taking almost thirty minutes off mom's previous best. I don't think I have ever been more proud of an accomplishment. It was extra special to achieve it with my mom at my side. Ryan and Sam were just as proud of their medals. Sam finished fourth in her age category after leaning in on the final sprint to beat out the girl beside her.

It seemed like every racer was now part of a new family. We did the Emperor's Challenge and survived-though it had been tempting to jump on one of the rescue helicopters at the summit. I felt like my mom was pushed on through every step of the race by the stress for the past months since my father's cancer diagnosis. I had thought I was doing the race for my mom, but in the end I realized I needed to do it for me too. Making a race a family event can be all the motivation you need to achieve something you once viewed impossible.