by Julia Simmons

Holy shit! What have I gotten myself into? I’m a 36-year-old workaholic marketing executive who less than a month ago separated from my husband. I woke up this morning in the middle of the Colorado wilderness in a sleeping bag. What the hell I am doing here?

Last week, late one night with a glass of wine in hand, I signed up for Outward Bound. Why? I have no bloody idea. I have never been camping in my life. Never been rock climbing. Never hiked to the top of a 13,000 foot mountain. Never pooped in the woods. My idea of “roughing it” is staying at a three-star motel. But here I lay curled up in a borrowed sleeping bag and I have no idea what the next seven days will bring.

The course I signed up for was for people over 30 in some type of “transition.” Transition is such an insignificant word to describe my life. In the last month, I left my job, left my husband, left my pets, sold my house and car, put everything in storage and have no where to live. So, I guess “transition” is exactly where I am. But still…Outward Bound…what was I thinking?

There were 20 people in the course who were from all over the US: A judge; a newly single mother who hadn’t worked in 10 years; a woman who just lost her two parents to cancer; a workaholic who walked away from a lucrative finance career; a father whose son was in Outward Bound; and me, the Louis-Vuitton-carrying, Mercedes-Benz-driving LA girl who didn’t own a pair of hiking boots until a day before getting on the plane.

But most importantly I was a workaholic and a slave to the list that focused on everything I needed to get done for everyone else but myself. From a young age, I was groomed to get a good education so I could get a good job to take care of myself and then when I had enough money I could stop and enjoy life. Well, at 36 I had all of those things, but had never stopped to enjoy my life or ask myself the simple questions. What makes me happy? What do I like to do? How do I want to live my life? I had spent my life “doing.” I had never stopped to ask myself what I really wanted. Why? Fear. That was the night I realized, wine in hand, that I had no idea who I was beyond my resume and what my life would be like after a nine year relationship. I took a great leap and signed up for Outward Bound.

Day 1 – Oh Dear

I still wasn’t sure what I was doing as I stood in the lobby of the Doubletree in Denver, but it was too late now. Before I knew it I was on the bus to the middle of nowhere. After settling in to our new surroundings, we had to choose one word which represented what we wanted to get out of Outward Bound. Without even thinking about it, I said strength. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what I meant by strength, but I was sure going to learn quickly.

We took off for our first outdoor activity, the ropes course. To be honest, it didn’t look hard and the first three obstacles were okay and I started to get a bit smug. Then I hit obstacle number four and I was stuck. In fact, stuck is an understatement. It was pouring with rain, I was clinging to a rope and sobbing. I couldn’t move forwards or back. I felt like such a failure. I wanted to quit so badly. What the hell was I doing here was the thought playing over and over in my head like a bad song. With the help of the course director, I finally made it through, bruised, battered, wet and miserable. This was going to be the longest week in my life.

There was also a new question bouncing around in me head? I haven’t pooped since leaving the hotel. Is this normal?

Day 2 – Get Me The Hell Out of Here!

When I woke up the next morning, that same song was playing in my head. What the hell am I doing here? I was miserable, tired, cold and completely out of my comfort zone. But what could I do? l was stuck in the middle of the Colorado wilderness?

I had one option. Suck it up and that’s exactly what I did.

That’s when everything changed. I went rock climbing and loved it. Who knew! Rock climbing is such a great metaphor for life. One step at a time. Make each decision carefully. Don’t rush. Weigh all of your options. And then and only then, make a move. And surprise, surprise, you’ll eventually achieve what you set out to do even if it’s just climbing a rock face.

By the end of the day, that same question was haunting me. How long is it “safe” to NOT poop?

Day 3 – Rafting

White water rafting is a blast. We spent half of the day rafting and working as a team to tackle some pretty good falls. We were bouncing and flew around all day long. It shook everything up except the one thing that had now eluded me for days now…

Accomodations

Day 4 – Are We There Yet?

I realized that when hauling a thirty pound pack, one cannot move very fast especially up hill. Today was spent hiking. All day. We finally got to the camp site where we’d be staying for the next three days. With tarp in hand I rigged up my sleeping spot. That night I learned two valuable lessons. If you don’t want to wake up with wet feet, keep them under the tarp during the rain. And two, I may have earned a place in the Guiness Book of World Records as nature still hadn’t called.

Day 5 – Peak Assent

I had briefly read that the course featured a peak asset, but what’s a peak assent? I learned quickly that it meant climbing to the top of a 13,000 foot mountain. It took over five hours to make it to the top where the air was so thin that nothing grew. But, I achieved it one step at a time, making each decision carefully, weighing my options as to the best route and not rushing.

Julia and her group on the mountain

I felt part of the group, I knew I could take on new challenges and succeed and then, nature finally called. I never thought I, the Los Angeles, Range Rover driving, movie executive could poop in the woods, but by day five, the call was a 911.

Day 6 – The Solo and the Meaning of Strength

The last day is called a solo where you spend twenty-four hours by yourself in the middle of nowhere with no food, no light, and no watch. As I lay down on the ground in the pitch black in my sleeping bag under my tarp, I wondered how on earth I was going to make it. When I woke up, after an amazingly peaceful sleep, it was a beautiful, sunny day. I watched bees collect pollen from thistle plants, I watched the river next to me run its course, and I watched the patterns of light change in the forest as the sun moved through the day.

It was the first day in a long time where I wasn’t a slave to others – my job, my husband, my housework and my to-do list. It was one of the best days in my life.

As I sat there, I remembered that I had picked up a small rock at the top of the mountain. I reached into my pocket and there it was. It was a small, jagged rock and nothing more, but to me it represented strength. In six short days, I learned that I am much stronger than I believed. I had been living my life in fear – the fear of failure, the fear of losing material things, the fear of speaking my own mind, the fear of stepping outside of the norm, the fear of trying something new and the fear of listening to my heart instead of my head. But now I felt different.

For one week, I stepped outside of my comfort zone, opened my arms and leaped. I learned that I can accomplish great, amazing and seemingly unachievable things by putting one foot in front of the other, allowing others to guide, support and encourage you and by believing in yourself. That small rock represented the strength I found within myself. I had tackled climbing a 13,000 foot mountain, one step at a time.

If I, the LA city girl could do that, I could do anything.