The kids had the day off from school.  We figured we should have them stay active in some fashion.  Charlene and I agreed that I would taken them to the Ninja Gym (think various obstacles scattered throughout a building with minimalist decor).

I also suited up in gym gear to join in the fun.  While 80% of the parents sat to watch, I was determined to fling my middle aged lumbering vessel around the room.  My early results were somewhat successful.  I even climbed a rope, which had long been my elementary school nemesis.  Yes, the blisters on my hands were worth it, because that rope now called me, “Daddy.”

There was however one challenge that intrigued me, the Warped Wall.  A vertical piece of wood with a slight bend.  “Run” up the wall, fling yourself toward the top, and pull yourself up.  Sounds so simple.

I flew up the 11 foot tall wall with minimal difficulty and began staring down the 14 1/2 foot monster.

Try one.  Fail, but I could visualize success.

Tries two, three, four, five.  All fails, but I was within inches of the top.  The parents on the sidelines and of course the cute moms cheered me on.  Teens successfully mounted the wall.  I continued to fail by inches.

Then I noticed pains.  First, the blisters on my hands ripping open from repeated collisions with the wall.  Then a sore feeling in my right leg, as my glute strained at each attempt.  Then worst of all, a sharp pain in my left groin, as my leg continued to hoist me toward the wall.

I stretched.  I tried again.  And again.  And again.  The moms continued to encourage me.  I kept trying.  Then gradually, leap after leap, my progress turned into a slow regression.  No matter how deep I dug, I was losing ground.  I fought through the pain.  I continued to try.  I left it all out there, but when time was called, the wall stood high and I remained at its base.  The cute moms left with their children to head home.

As I type this post nursing a groin that felt each failed attempt, I realize a few truths.  It is okay to try and fail.  If you give it your everything, that’s all you can do, so smile through the pain with a glimmer of pride.  Also, smiles from the cute moms at the Ninja Gym are nice, but they’re nothing compared to the loving ice pack delivered by your beautiful bride upon telling the tale of your outing.

Someday soon, my body will heal.  Someday, I will conquer that wall.  While every day, my wife will shake her head and slightly smile at my antics.

You may not call me Ishmael, but oh I’ve experienced my great whale in the form of a 14 1/2 foot warped wall.