The View from the Top (Lessons from the Vertical Mile Challenge)

I love hiking. For the fifteen years my husband and I have been married, hiking has been one of our “vacation” activities. We both love being outdoors, in uncrowded places that others avoid. I enjoy hiking because of the pay-off: it’s hard work, but I feel rewarded by being able to see things I would have missed out on if I had refused the challenge. Until recently I thought that hiking had to be confined to vacationing, but then I discovered the Vertical Mile Challenge (VMC) at Rocky Face Recreational Park (www.rockyfacepark.com).

The VMC is close enough to home that I’m able to go most days, and it is one of the most challenging and rewarding hikes I’ve ever attempted.The best (and worst) part is this: it never gets easier. I thrive on attempting things that are challenging, so I guess the tagline for this post should be, “A shout-out to things that never get easier...no matter how many times you do them.”  The trail is a 2.2-mile loop, with one eighth-mile section that travels straight up the rock face of the mountain. You must complete the loop 8 times to fulfill the first “challenge”-- a vertical mile. The second stage is 40 loops, or 5 miles, followed by 80 loops, or 10 miles. There are prizes for each level of completion.

On August 27, I completed my 14th loop of the VMC; coincidentally, August 29th was my 14th first day of school at East Alexander Middle, where I teach. I thought there was an interesting symmetry there, and I started to look for more connections. To me, the first day of school--well, really the first week of school--is much like the VMC:  a challenge that never gets any easier.

The VMC trail starts out quietly (misleadingly); it winds easily around the base of the mountain through large shade trees and past a quiet camping spot deep in the woods. The trail is isolated, and I usually don’t see a lot of hikers. It’s like the first misleadingly quiet workdays when everyone is busy in their classrooms and beginning-of-year meetings. The hallways are empty-- I pass people and speak, but everyone is busy doing their own thing. For the most part, we are left to work at our own pace.

Once the trail breaks the tree line, I see a series of cones headed up the mountain. I stop at the bottom and look up, mentally preparing. I stretch my calf muscles and catch my breath, push my sleeves up, and go. I can usually make it through four cones before stopping. I’m slightly winded, but thinking, “That wasn’t so bad. I’ll just stop here and catch my breath a little.” On the first day of school, I stop and mentally prepare myself. I look around my room, at the neatly stocked bookshelves, my desk with papers neatly filed away. I am ready. And the students arrive. By the end of homeroom on the first day, I’m feeling a little tired, but positive. I’ve handed out forms, learned some names, taken up money. Not a bad start. As the students leave for rotation classes, I have time to stop and process the day so far.

After the fourth cone, the trail narrows and gets very steep. My calf muscles are burning and I’m sucking wind. I am determined to keep pushing through to Cone 6, but my calves tell me that I’m either stopping or falling down. (This is similar to my bladder’s threat to me as the school day approaches lunchtime.) I’ve pounded through several classes and talked about rules and procedures, and now it’s time to take a potty break, grab my lunch, and squeeze in some adult conversation. I’m curious to know what my coworkers are thinking about this new group of students. We laugh about funny kids and talk about the students who stood out to us. We talk about the difficulties of the first day, and smile because we’re halfway through.

Once I’ve regained my breath, I look up the trail to the next 3 cones. It is so steep. It makes the beginning of the trail look like a paved stroll around a pond. There are cones, but there are also piled stone markers that let me know that other people have already done it. It is possible. Dear Lord, I always think. I’ll never make it! But I steel myself, move my feet, and push through the pain until I reach the top. It never takes as long or seems as steep as I expect it to. Two more classes have come and gone. My bookshelves are no longer neat. I can no longer see my desk for the piles of papers.

At the top, I turn around and look behind me. The view from up here is pretty incredible. It’s peaceful, serene. It is 2:45. I have met some amazing kids. They’ve told me how cool I am, and that they are excited about their year with me. I realize that I probably will not see the top of my desk again until the school year ends. There are gum wrappers on the floor and everything has a slight aura of disarray, but my classroom has that buzz of energy-- it’s a hive. I love that it can be calm and energetic at the same time.

At this point, the trail carves straight across the rock face, and I’m breathing easy. It’s all downhill from here, I think, as I enter the trees and hit the dirt trail again. Uh-oh. This is steep! The trail doesn’t go downhill? I still have to hike up to Marker 515? And this is only marker...512??? I thought I was done! The clock ticks. 2:50. I’m sweaty. I’m exhausted. The trail is suddenly crowded with other hikers, and they are so LOUD. 2:55. The calm is definitely over. Now it’s just energetic. Oh, here’s a rock I can sit on to catch my breath. 3:00. Go to your lockers! 3:05. The announcements quiet the students for a few minutes. There’s a break in the trees, more rock face, and… Glorious trail marker 515! Glorious moment 3:15! I made it!

And it’s interesting how from the top, the climb doesn’t seem so bad. The view is pretty amazing. From the end of the day, I’m thinking mainly about how well things went. I’m excited to get back to class tomorrow and spend more time with the kids.  The challenge of the trail and the beginning of the year is never easy, but what does get easier is the rest of the way forward. I’ve learned to anticipate the rough patches in the trail and the calendar, to see the switchbacks in the path and the places where I’m likely to have instructional challenges or a change in direction, and to find the smoothest parts of the trail: the path of least resistance with the most difficult cases. Sometimes I even feel confident enough to run! My breath comes back a little easier each time I hit the top, and I find myself ready to head back up for another loop, and another day in the classroom.

Perhaps the part of the VMC that makes it so unique is that, even though I frequently find myself alone on the trail, the rock face is usually full of people. Some are running and exhilarated, some sweaty and determined, others red-faced and defeated-looking. But all of them are there for a common purpose, and it builds a community. Strangers share encouragement, stories, stats...Out on the rock, we’re all in it together. This is the same in the day-to-day grind of teaching. In the end, and in the hardest parts, we should all be in it for the same purpose: to help kids get to the top. They need to see the view from up there as much as we do.

As the hardest part of the school year fades into memory, don’t forget that no matter how many loops you’ve done--whether you’re approaching 40 or more, halfway there, getting your first mile, or on your first loop ever--we all need the encouragement of the others on the trail. Don’t forget what it was like when you weren’t sure you’d make it all the way through. There are students who feel that way every day. There are teachers who feel that way every day. Encourage them.

And finally, don’t forget the view from the top. Some days the trees and clouds will close in and hide the sky, others you’ll be staring at the ground just looking for a foothold. There will be days when the other people on the trail will drive you crazy, days when you feel like it takes forever just to get started, and days that you’re so focused on your speed and finishing that you don’t pay attention to the experience. But it’s the view from the top that makes it all worth it, so enjoy that view while it lasts. It changes with every pass, and with every new group of students. It’s worth paying attention to the beauty in front of us while we have the opportunity. After all, it will seem like no time at all before we reach the glorious trail end of summer break, and it’ll be time to start all over again!