The Rope
Part of the acceleration
was this:
I climbed a rope.
To some, that might seem grand.
To others, it’s simply part of their everyday game plan.
For me, it took time to understand
the magnitude of this small, great moment—
the magnificence that held to me, toward me,
and deep within.
I’ve learned that sharing victories is scary.
It’s vulnerable for many reasons—
it can risk rejection,
show the opposite of perfection,
or be met with silence.
At any cost, I’ve chosen to take the risk.
To celebrate a victory that, for me,
was and is monumental.
I say monumental because
your step-closer milestones tend to mean something.
CrossFit became a safe place for me—
something I was naturally good at,
something I genuinely enjoyed.
There were things I dreamt of doing in the sport,
but I held those dreams deep within,
never letting anyone in.
Until the day my heart finally felt ready.
I looked at a coach I trusted and said,
“One day, I’d like to climb a rope.”
She smiled. “Why not today?”
“I can practice,” I said,
“but I don’t know if I can actually do it.”
“How much time do you have?” she asked.
“I can give you ten minutes.”
“Perfect,” she said. “Let’s go.”
I began swinging, hanging, giggling—
with only a limited understanding
of how to get from the ground to the sky.
It felt like hours of defeat.
Eventually I turned to her.
“Thank you for your help,” I said.
“I can always try again another day.”
“You’ve got five minutes left,” she replied.
Five minutes?
Something in me softened and said,
Okay… maybe I can try again.
So I did.
Again. And again. And again—
each time falling.
Then what felt like one last attempt came.
I managed a small pull.
I smiled. “Hey, that’s a start.”
My coach said,
“Let’s try one more time.
This time, I’ll record it.”
I smiled and nodded.
I grabbed the rope, pulled—
then pulled again.
And suddenly there was a possibility—
a real one—
that I might actually make it to the top.
Before I knew it,
I was so close to the ceiling I could almost taste it.
I could feel the victory grip in my fingers.
There I was, ten minutes into my yes,
so grateful I hadn’t walked away at minute five.
How many times have you been so close to your breakthrough
and chosen to step away halfway through
because the defeat seemed louder than the potential?
