[NOTE: I apologize that this entry is so terrifyingly long. Storm the Wall was truly epic for me, and I wanted to cover everything that happened from my point of view. This blog may take awhile to read, but, in my opinion, it is worth it. Not because I wrote it, but because of the amount of guts, love, and courage that went into that Wednesday afternoon.]
So last Wednesday was Max’s birthday, I bought him a Swiss Army Knife among a few other things. Following a happy birthday morning, Max and I left for Brock Hall and Storm the Wall.
Our team was made up of four bloggers: Jimmy, Miranda, Victoria, and I as well as the Blog Squad leader, Angeli. Victoria had the task of swimming, Miranda sprinting, Angeli biking, Jimmy running, and me, well I was the wall person…that was all I had to do, just storm the wall. As a background, when the blog squad meeting was happening and Storm the Wall came up, I did not raise my hand to be a part of the team. Blessed with an acute fear of heights and a not-so-prepared-to-storm body, I was completely assured that I couldn’t be an asset to the team. Cory said he was game and they had their five, so I didn’t really think about the issue any further. It was only when the emails circulated later that week saying we needed a sub, just in case someone dropped out. No one volunteered, and I thought to myself “Well, I suppose I could make it over that wall, I mean, they have a system in place for getting over it, and it’s not like anyone is going to drop out anyways.” so I volunteered. It was over the course of the next week that several scheduling conflicts arose and Cory was unable to do it because he had class, it was then that Angeli called me. Next thing I knew I was going to the clinic, and learning the secrets to storming the wall.
To be honest, I wasn’t all that worried about it in the days that lead up to Wednesday. I thought little about it, and when I did, it was just small waves of nervousness, followed quickly by my own reassurance that it wasn’t so bad. I picked out my storming outfit and thought nothing of it until I walked into the student development office that fateful afternoon.
Lucky for us, our Blog Squad t-shirts had just got in, so we all changed into them proudly and posed for a group shot. I asked if I had time to grab a burger from the nearby BBQ, as I hadn’t eaten anything that morning, and found out it was too late, we had to walk to our check in station. “Oh well,” I thought, “the whole race should take like, half an hour, I can get something to eat after that.” Once we checked in, Max and I headed to the wall. All I had to do was wait there for the rest of the team to finish their parts of the race, so I spent my time watching people get over the wall, listening to the guy who was announcing the whole thing, and winning a tiny flashlight from BC Hydro for suggesting using power-saving appliances to conserve energy in the home. As you can tell, I was pretty laid back.
As time moved forward, my teammates began to arrive at the wall. Max took photos and we all hung out, starting to get pumped about the task at hand, the final storm. Soon the four girls had assembled and we all stood about, waiting anxiously for Jimmy to arrive, as soon as he did we all dashed to the wall.
I think Miranda was first over. Yeah, and I was one of the bases. I pressed myself against the wall, trying to be as sturdy as possible as she climbed from our thighs to our shoulders. As soon as she was up we joined together and pushed her feet up, in no time she was over and we all looked at eachother thinking, “We can do this!” Next was Angeli, and I was a base again, she climbed, thigh thigh shoulder shoulder up and over. I was really proud of us. We entered this event as complete amateurs, none of us were all that sporty, yet here we are, getting eachother over that 12-foot wall. It was at this point that it was my turn.
My bracers got up against the wall and I followed the pattern, first the thighs, then the shoulders. I reached my hands up and grabbed Miranda’s wrist, we counted and I was pushed skyward. This is where everything got rather scary, as soon I was hanging by both my hands, feet dangling and kicking against the wall as they tried to hook my arms up top. My biceps burned as I frantically tried to hook my elbows at the top of the wall, as we were trained, but it was all to no avail. Miranda urged me to try and throw my leg up so she could grab it and I just couldn’t. I was in so much pain and was shaking so hard, I begged them to put me down, and they did.
Feeling intensely humiliated I took my place at the bottom and watched as Jimmy was helped over. I then served as a brace for Victoria, but was so shaky and sore that we wound up dropping her. It wasn’t a very long drop, only 2-3 feet, but I felt horrible. Angeli said I should try again and I wanted so badly to make it up to my team, these people that I was so proud of, that I nodded yes.
It was the same song and dance. Thigh Thigh Shoulder Shoulder, I grabbed the wrists of those above me as I was lifted into the air against the wall. There were countless people around me, telling me to be stiff and straight, and I tried, god, I tried, but it still hurt so much. I got so close, throwing my leg as high as I could three times, before I was shaking so hard, that I just wanted to be on the ground. I made the mistake of begging the people up top to let me go, and I slid a good eight feet down the wall before I was caught at the very bottom. I felt like shit.
Now trembling more than I think I ever have in my entire life, I watched as Victoria, our fourth member, made it over the wall, leaving only me to have not made it. Angeli asked me if I wanted to try one more time and I just broke down. Through one of those sobby faces where your chin wrinkles I replied, “no, no.” We then crossed the finish line, and I sat down, crying and apologizing to everyone. I felt hopeless…we were disqualified because I couldn’t make it over. I know that we were just playing for fun, but I wanted so badly to make it over. All I could do was cry and hope that Max would make it over to the finish line soon from where he had been taking pictures.
It was in this bleak and sobby moment that I was approached by a rather large, muscular man who was wearing one of those bright orange safety vests. He worked for UBC Rec, and it kills me that I am unsure of his name…I think it was Dave, and he asked me, “Do you want to get over this wall?” He told me that not one has not made it over the wall yet, and he didn’t want me to be the first. I mustered up all my courage and love for my team and said, in a rather timid voice, “Okay.”
Everything flew by, soon I was at the base of the wall, and the amazing man in the orange safety vest asked me, “Can you hear my voice?” “Yes.” “Good, cause from now on, mine is the only voice you will hear, any other voice will be God’s and that will be because we have dropped you, but we’re not going to do that.” “Okay.” I followed his voice and the pattern, thigh thigh shoulder shoulder, and before I knew it I was locking wrists with the helpers on top and swinging my foot onto the top of the wall.
There was a pause as soon as I got up there, it was probably only a second or two, but all I can remember is not hearing anything at all and thinking “Holy crap. I just made it over the wall.” I climbed down each and every rung down the back of the wall, and hit the ground with such happiness that my knees felt weak, I looked to my right and saw Max behind one of the barriers, smiling at me all proud. I think that made me the happiest.
Following the epic challenge that was Storm the Wall, we reconvened for Strawberry Milk and I finally got a look at my bruises. Thick, purple bands marked the undersides of my arms, where I had tried to hook my elbows and support myself. There were distinct footprints on my thighs and shoulders, and my entire body ached and I couldn’t stop shaking for a good ten minutes. We took some happy end pictures, then headed to lunch.
All in all, I’m happy I did it. I feel a lot closer to my fellow bloggers and UBC itself because next year, and every year after, I’ll be able to look at that wall and know I made it over it. Though I don’t really think I’ll be doing it again.
