Wisconsin - It Ain't All About the Cheese

A brief hiatus from posting about my trip to Peru is in order. I spent the last 3 days in Wisconsin with the GSB Class of 2007, and I am one tired individual. The event was the initial part of the leadership program (LEAD), with the moniker LOE (LEAD Outdoor Experience). What an experience it was. Plenty of physical activity and food for thought. There were multiple activities, most of which involved teamwork to solve mental or physical challenges. There was also a great deal of socializing, and I really enjoyed chatting with and getting to know my fellow classmates. I finally met the ubiquitous PowerYogi, and we shared some laughs over pizza and beer.

But there were points when I was sweating. One rather poignant one was from a combination of fatigue and fear while standing on a platform, strapped into a harness and about to fly down a zip line after a challenging run around the high ropes course. Here I am thinking that no one mentioned climbing rope walls and traversing swings at 40+ feet in the air during the admissions process... but it was voluntary, and I was seriously doubting my own judgement while up there, panicking at the thought of STEPPING OFF of the platform. The line could break, or I could slam into that tree on the other end of the line... It made me think about the last five years or so of my life, and how much I've changed.

Five years ago, I would never have considered doing anything that dangerous or challenging. My parents had always pushed me to exceed academically and socially, but were fearful of bruises and broken bones. As a consequence, my willingness to take physical risks was limited. The first time that I decided to break out of that pattern was when I learned how to ski. Pushing my fear and ego aside, I managed to gain a bit of confidence and a very sore behind along with my fellow beginners on the bunny slope (most of whom were about a third of my age). Five years later, I'm no expert, but I do feel a sense of accomplishment every time I'm able to make it down the hill. Since then, I've taken many more risks. I'm not always successful and I'm certainly not going to claim the best judgement. I can't swim, and I still went rafting in California, parasailing in Australia, snorkeling in Palau. Yes, I could've drowned in those escapades. I could've gotten hurt or worse on that platform (I have a lecture coming my way once I tell my parents about it). But then again, I wouldn't have been able to see life happening below me from that perspective, nor the chance to see a different side of my fellow GSBers up there, who helped me to get past that last swing or encouraged me to take that last step.

And that's the thing about taking risks - be they physical, mental, emotional. You do get a different view, and you tend to meet some pretty amazing and inspiring people along the way. You're also a bit more experienced and hopefully a bit wiser... once the sheer terror has worn off. So I propelled myself off of that platform. The line didn't break, I didn't hit the tree, and I'm just fine. Well, except for the sore hands from gripping onto that rope for dear life and the sore throat from screeching like a banshee while zipping down the line. But those will heal soon enough.