(and all challenges seeming to exist beyond capability and possibility)

It just sounds crazy. Ridiculous even. In fact, in the weeks and days leading up to last weekend’s nordic Canadian Ski Marathon in the Montebella region of Quebec, I could rarely say it without laughing: “we will attempt to ski 160 kms over two days.” Indeed, as the reality of last Saturday morning, and the startline drew nearer, it was all of those familiar yet uncomfortable thoughts and feelings that characterize the onset of any great, epic adventure. The swirling tummy mixed with self doubt, and even layered with a touch of anger: “why did I agree to this?!” I even found myself contemplating, and longing for, the trappings of routine and a more normal weekend. Playing with the kids. Piled on the couch in front of Hockey Night Canada. My own bed. A sleep-in, and a long, lazy morning. Relative bliss in stark contrast to severe physical and mental challenge (and anguish!).  I assume that the question is as old as the human spirit, and is certainly well documented in literature – from Homer to Shakespeare to Twain to Rowling. Why do we actively choose discomfort over routine? The uncertainty of adventure over the safety of home?

As I said to the students during our assembly on Tuesday morning, “if we are all  honest with ourselves, we may realize a compulsion within each of us to attempt something as crazy as the Canadian Ski Marathon. It is very easy to ignore this compulsion, but there is such power, lasting learning and growth, in following it.” For instance, each of our sixteen participants skied distances far beyond what they’d ever skied before. Many of our participants doubled and even tripled the skiing they’d otherwise amassed over their lifetimes. Our students – Logan, Clement, Chase, Calum, Jacob, Jason, Caden and Sam – will never forget the experience. The nervous energy of the 4am bus ride to the startline on Saturday morning. The relative chaos of hundreds of participants lining up in the dark, anxiously awaiting the word “go!”. The soft glide along perfectly formed tracks, glistening under the moonlight of a clear sky. The winding and endless trail of headlamps ahead and behind. The false impression of that blissful, early section juxtaposed with the steep icy hills, treachery and grueling pace of the now famous “Section Two”. The slow growing aches and tightening, forming in the feet, through the legs, into the back and across the shoulders. Continually pushing away the ever-growing desire to quit, to simply hop onto one of those warm yellow buses back to base camp. The euphoric camaraderie of the evening, swapping the ups and downs, the many stories of the day, with classmates and teachers. Connecting to this experience across the generations of RLC, inspired by the (infuriatingly) easy glides of our school’s participating alumni. And, of course, for many of us, the experience meant following the unendingly inspiring spirit of our dear friend and mentor Robert Carreau, along the trails he knew so well, perhaps listening for his infectious encouragement: “you’ve got this.”

Perhaps more powerful than all that will always be remembered is what will now be carried forward. It is difficult to quantify the lasting effect of such an experience, but I am certain that a student’s now strengthened confidence, determination, will, resilience and overall sense of self, will carry through the next challenge and adventure, no matter the form. In the context of learning, challenges can be found in many forms each day, and our growth relies upon our ability to embrace those challenges. Students should know that the next long English essay will not suddenly become easier because of their participation in the Canadian Ski Marathon. They may, however, be more inclined to push their research, thinking and creative interpretations a little further, to more thoroughly and creatively describe and explain their thinking. 

This year, sixteen of us attempted the Canadian Ski Marathon. Calum skied all 160 kms. Each of us found victory. I am sure that next year we will double our participation, and many more than one will realize the euphoria of completing the entire marathon. In two years, we will double our participation again. In three years, our entire community may be finding its way to Quebec on a cold February weekend.