Kerri Richardson

A few years back, I visited Miraval Resort and Spa –- a beautiful, luxury destination that focuses on physical, emotional, and spiritual health. I knew, in planning my trip, that I wanted to test my limits.

The most obvious test came when I decided to tackle The Climbing Wall, one of Miraval’s Challenge Course activities -– an outdoor wall that’s meant to mimic rock climbing. Standing back from the wall and looking at it as a whole, it looked relatively easy -– despite the 32-foot height (gulp!). OK. Yup, I see pegs that I can stand on and hold, foot holes in the wall where I can step. So it’s just a different kind of ladder. No big deal.

There I am, all geared up, on belay and ready to go. I start my ascent. I climb with such grace and ease –- for the first three feet or so. I now find myself right up against the wall, only able to see the pegs and foot holes directly in front of me. Hmmm. Talk about not being able to see the forest for the trees. Yeah, yeah, I get the metaphor.

So here I am, in a pretty vulnerable position (not a comfortable state for me!), hanging from a rope, held by a complete stranger –- who, by the way, is acting as a belayer for the first time in her life -– and I must trust those on the ground to tell me where to step next. Oh, yeah, great idea, Kerri. You couldn’t have just challenged yourself to get an extra massage today?

I continue my ascent, ever so s-l-o-w-l-y, where I then reach a point where I feel like I can go no further. No, literally. I can’t see any nearby peg or foot hole to go after. Ohhh, so here’s the trust part. Yuk. The helpful classmates on the ground below are doing their best to convince me that there is a peg right at my left knee, and if I can shift my weight and push myself up by my right leg, while simultaneously reaching for a hole above my head, I can get my left foot on that invisible peg. Did those instructions sound unclear to you? Try being the one on the wall! Here I am contemplating my next move:

“No,” I say. “This is it for me. I can’t go any further.”

“Are you sure?” says Jim, the really wonderful instructor (truly).

I pause. “OK, that pause tells me you’d like to keep going,” Jim says.

Damn pause.

I stand still for a moment, doing some deep breathing on Jim’s suggestion. “Just try it, Kerri,” I tell myself. “Just give it a shot.” OK, here I go… Shift my weight, push up with my right foot, reach, and….. I slip right off the wall.

The good news? The rookie belayer doesn’t let me plummet to my death. The other good news? I now have solid evidence that I can trust her. I’m now more determined than ever to try that next step again.

I get myself to the same spot and get really quiet. I breathe and start pumping myself up in my head. “I’m not giving up. I’ll get to that peg I can’t see. I’m not leaving this wall until I do.” I make the move again and find my footing weak, so come back to position. I pause for just a second or two and lunge once again. I shift, I push, I reach and … I did it! Everyone down below cheers. I feel fantastic! I both can and can’t believe I really did it.

Although this was the end of my climb (I was physically and emotionally exhausted), I got to the point on the wall that was my minimum goal, so I was pretty darn impressed with myself.

Jeanette (aka, “the rookie belayer”) eases me down off my perch until I’m safely back on the ground. High fives all around as Jim says “So what did you learn up there?” The first thing that comes out of my mouth is, “Well, I can push myself further than I thought I could.”

“That’s great,” Jim says. “I encourage you to remember that statement in all areas of your life.”

And I do. Whether it’s during a workout on the elliptical or taking the risk to deepen a friendship by bringing conversations beyond chit chat, I try and remember to challenge myself to step out of my comfort zone because the feeling on the other side is always worth it.

For those of you who know me, it’ll come as no surprise when I say I’m not a huge fan of camping – I’m more of a “serve-me-breakfast-in-bed-resort” versus a “build-your-own-room-and-sleep-with-bugs” kind of gal. However, Melissa loves the outdoors and really enjoys camping, and since relationships involve compromise, compromise I did. A while back, we, along with a friend of ours, went camping in Hancock, NH.

Now, it’s not the outdoors I dislike, it’s the walking a distance in the middle of the night when you have to pee part that doesn’t appeal to me. Other things I really enjoy – like the kayaking we got to do and spending time among nature’s wonders – one of which being Monadnock Mountain in Jaffrey, NH, which we decided to hike while we were in the area. If you’re not familiar with the mountain, here’s some interesting facts:

• It’s the most climbed mountain in the world (yes, the world – right ahead of Mt. Fuji in Japan) – 125,000 people get to the top each year.

• There are at least a dozen, well-marked trails – of various skill levels – leading to the summit.

• It’s the most popular mountain in the USA, partly due to the fact that when hikers reach the top, on a clear day you’re rewarded with panoramic views to all six New England states.

• Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and other thinkers of our country have hiked it and mentioned it in writings as a symbol of spiritual and environmental awareness.

We had hiked this mountain before, probably 5 years ago or so. I remember it being quite a challenging climb, mostly at the top when you are above the tree line and you are essentially rock climbing. However, this time, we took a different trail – one much more difficult – that was mainly made up of rocks and boulders.

During our climb, we decide to rest for a bit for some water and trail mix (could there be a more appropriate food for hiking? ). We get to talking, and before we know it, a half hour has passed. Disappointed by how much time we had lost by the impromptu break, we quickly get back on our way. On we climb, and after some tricky maneuvers, we reach the summit – 3,165 feet. Our legs fatigued, and the wind practically knocking us over, we sit to rest before enjoying the views.

Then, it’s picture time. For my photo, I want to stand on the tippity-top – the technical 3,165-foot peak (a rock is carved to indicate the true summit). I wait as other climbers have their photo opportunity, then it’s my turn. As I stand there trying to hold myself steady for the picture (it was really windy), out of literally nowhere appears an airplane. No one hears it until it’s practically on top of us. Everyone on the summit (about 50-60 people or so) gasps and looks to the sky. There I am, holding myself steady from the wind and now from the roaring of this unbelievably close plane, and as I look up, the plane suddenly starts doing maneuvers – flips, pirouettes (I’m sure the military has a much more masculine term for that spin!), and dips. Then, as quickly as it appears, it disappears on the other side of the mountain. People run to see where it went, but it’s gone. Vanished.

Then, along comes a second plane, showcasing similar aerial dancing. A fellow climber tells us that it’s the Air Force doing maneuvers – he believes the aircraft is an A10 Thunderbolt. What better place to do your maneuvers than where you know you’ll have a captive audience?! This pilot is so close that as he’s flipping, he waves at all of us and we can see him! Spontaneously, I turn into a little girl, laughing and clapping as I stand on the summit. The rush I feel from having completed the climb, combined with standing on the tip-top summit just as this amazing show in the sky presents itself to me is just indescribable. People take turns standing on the exact summit point, and it just happens to be my turn when the planes come.

Boy, am I glad we took that unplanned 30-minute snack/chat break part way up the mountain, otherwise we would have missed this entirely. Talk about being in the right place at the right time. Perhaps I should trust the Universe’s timing more often.