The Ropes Course (aka The "Challenge" Course)

For the past three years, when I have sent in the paperwork for my kids to attend Interlochen, I have filled out a permission slip for "the challenge course", a ropes course here on campus.  None of my kids have ever had a counselor that actually brought them or their cabin to the course, and having made a good friend who used to be the ropes course director, I thought our family could try it out.

Wow, what an experience.

It's situated right off the middle of campus and within hearing distance of many of the practice cabins, but I had never seen it (and suspect most other people never even know it's there).  We headed deep in the woods, and I was thankful that I had thought to spray the family down with bug spray.

The course is amazing.  It's huge.  It's all hanging in the trees.

After our very short safety briefing (which was really just information on how to put on our helmets and harnesses), we chose two of the three options for that evening.  Actually, I use the term "we" loosely--the kids chose, and I just followed along.

The first course was a single steel cable, hung between two large poles about 40 feet off the ground.  After climbing up the pole on first a ladder, and then on teeny tiny steel loops sticking out of the pole, we were told we were to walk the cable.  The only things to help us do so were vertical hanging ropes, spaced further and further apart.  At the end of the cable was a bell that we were supposed to ring in order to claim our victory.

We went in order of age, starting with Glo, and I was amazed how quickly she shimmied across the cable.  Her arm span isn't very large yet, and yet she had no fear reaching for the next rope.  Mark made it across in record time, having his six-foot wingspan.  I was the last one to go.

Here's where I get reflective.

I thought the challenge part of the course would be the height.  We are seriously way off the ground, and the only thing keeping us from falling to our deaths is a green belay rope that two people were holding on the ground.  Really, I thought this would be the main fear factor, and I think it was for the kids.

For me, there was a different challenge.

With all the health problems I have had over the last five years, my physical abilities have become limited.  Too, over the last year, with almost no access to exercise, I am the heaviest I have ever been in my life.  I have had two back surgeries.  I have an ankle that is still healing.  I have a body that's not particularly physically attractive at the moment.

For this course, I wasn't sure that I could "do" it anymore.  I wasn't sure that my arms were strong enough and my legs had enough power to get me up that telephone pole.  When I stepped on the cable, I can't lie--my ankle hurt, and it didn't turn the way I needed it too.  I wondered if, for one of the first times in my life, I was going to have to quit.  I was going to have to become one of those parents who sits on the sidelines and watches their kids have all the fun.  I was going to be the spouse of the marathon runner who sits at the finish line, overweight and out of shape, cheering on those who have pushed their bodies to the limit.

The challenge for me was to prove to myself that I'm still strong.  That I'm still young.  That I can still push myself physically and meet the challenge.  I didn't care about the height, because I knew if I fell (and I did two times) the staff on the ground would catch me--I didn't even look down.  I just wanted to ring that stupid bell.  I wanted to continue to be the parent that I have been, always participating in what the kids do and showing them that nothing is impossible, even when you are scared.

Besides scuba, it was the hardest physical thing I've done in a long time, but gosh darn it, I did it.  I was joking the whole way along the cable, yelling down to the kids and seeming like all was well.  Glo was yelling encouraging words up to me ("Just don't look down"), but in my head I was saying, "Just don't fail."  It was a challenge in a whole different way for me, and I met the challenge face on.  I did it.

When I started the second course, it seemed like I had something to prove.  People always say you aren't a real marathon runner until you run your second race.  Finishing your first race can be a fluke, but finishing a second proves you are for real.  It was like Fate was saying, "Let's see if you can do it again, because I think you got lucky the first time."

The second course was a rope (not a cable), again strung between two poles, but there was a rope on either side of the main rope for me to hold onto.  I thought this would be so much easier, and in some ways it was (mostly mental), but really it wasn't.  Those side ropes weren't taut at all--they were all loosey-goosey, so you had the feeling of security, but really we were swinging all over the place.  The kids got fancy and did a bunch of tricks like abandoning the main rope completely, and moving down the side ropes on their hands and feet, but for me again, it was all about kicking the pole at the end and making it back again.

And here's where I learned another lesson.  When I got to the end of going forward, the woman below yelled that she had heard it's easier going back to the original starting point if you walk backwards.  I didn't want to do it if it was easier--the kids had all turned around--but I had to take pride in what I had done.  My ankle was seriously about to give out, and I knew I would be suffering for days.  It was about dropping any pride of pushing myself further, and accepting what I had done.  I needed to accept the offering my body had given me--it had done what I had asked, and it deserved a break.  I walked back to the starting point backwards, and indeed, it was easier.

When I came down off those ropes, I was a sweaty mess.  The three miles that I ran on the anniversary of me breaking my ankle (just two weeks ago) was nothing in comparison to this.  I went into this, not expecting much difficulty, but found that I was pushed to my physical limits.  In the end though, I can't tell you how proud I was of myself that I had met the challenge.  Nobody knew what I was going through--I didn't tell the directors that I was recovering from injuries, and the kids didn't think about it.  It was all in my head--the fear of failure, the worry of growing old, the realization that life may be too hard for me now.  Through it all though, I overcame.

I won!

Glo, climbing up the pole

Glo, despite the fear, actually listened to me on the ground and turned around for a photo!
What a brave girl...

Record-setting Mark

Yes, that's champ Hannah reaching out for the bell--
it took me two swings (unlike my kids who all did it in one), but I finally rang it!

The craziest thing--Johannah is actually laying sideways between two ropes (with the main rope visible under her knees).
This move is called the Crab Walk, but I think a new name is in order--
I'm thinking the "Do you want to die?" walk?

Glad those ballet lessons came in handy for Hannah!

Look at the winner right ankle!--moving it ways it hasn't done in over a year

Seriously, could I be more sweaty.  Or more red??!!

The kids were disappointed it was over.
I was grateful.