Abbey's Road: Tackling a tower, one step at a time

I had finished 12 of 20 miles on my bike when the idea occurred to me:

“You should climb the tower.”

It was so crazy I laughed, though only the trees could hear me.

“Did you SEE the tower?” I asked aloud. “It’s huge. So many steps. By the time I get back there, I’ll have ridden 19 miles, and I have to get home by noon. I am NOT climbing the tower.”

But at that point I knew — because the little voice in my head does not let up easily — I would be climbing the Rastin Observation Tower, a 280-foot column that soars over Mt. Vernon’s Ariel-Foundation Park, whose bottom half is encircled by a metal spiral staircase containing lots and lots of stairs.

224, to be exact. (Full disclosure: I counted 237. But there was a lot going on in my head at the time.)

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I did not want to climb the tower, but obedience to that little voice is about much more than personal preference, so I decided I had little choice in the matter.

It didn’t matter that it was starting to rain by the time I arrived in the parking lot; I could have been caught in a deluge and it would not have changed my heart’s commitment to completing this absurd mission which, until a half hour prior, had never crossed my mind. I racked my bike and tossed my helmet on the ground. And as I did, I thought of a whole list of people in my life and literature who did hard things when they didn’t want to; about how, in doing those hard things, they may have felt uncomfortable in the stretching and growing, but they came out on the other side stronger and wiser and better equipped to help others along their own journeys.

Growth comes from walking through hard places; this thought gave me courage to go on.

Finally, at the base of the tower, which seemed to grow in size and scope as I approached it, I entered through the turnstile and craned my neck to look up. All I could see was a winding ribbon of stairs.

So. Many. Stairs.

But I took a deep breath and began. After just a handful, I could feel the 19 miles in my legs and my heart pounding in my chest, and every time I looked up, there were just more stairs. Eventually it became too overwhelming to do that, so instead I focused solely on the step in front of me. One at a time, step after step, my legs burning, my breath labored.

Until I made it to the top.

From the top you can see for miles in every direction, and the buildings and trees that look so large from the ground seemed minuscule compared to the vista spread out below me.

And I was reminded that, when all I can see is stairs — work and pain and exhaustion — there’s always a bigger picture.

If you, like me, believe there is Someone who sees you on the steps and gives you strength to continue, you know that your discouragement and exhaustion and faltering are not unnoticed.

If you do not — hey, that’s all right, I still love you! — I am here to remind you that life is more than just steps. There’s a bigger picture, a “vista,” if you stop to see it.

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You were never meant to climb all the steps on your own. It’s hard work and can feel overwhelming, and I encourage you to find a trusty cheerleader who can hold your hand and spur you on.

But please don’t get so overwhelmed by the steps that you forget to stop every once in awhile to enjoy the view. Because what feels like work right now will pay off in lessons learned and memories treasured and stories to tell.

You can do hard things; when you get to the other side of them, you’ll be able to tell the ones who are still struggling that they can do it. And it’s going to be OK.

I didn’t set out on my bike ride Tuesday morning with the intention of climbing a tower. But I did, and I’m glad I did, because someday when I encounter a friend who is struggling to make it just to the next step, I can remind them of the view at the top and cheer them on.

Mission: accomplished.

Abbey Roy is a mom of three girls who make every day an adventure. She writes to maintain her sanity. You can probably reach her at amroy@nncogannett.com, but responses are structured around bedtimes and weekends.

This article originally appeared on Newark Advocate: Abbey learns life lessons while climbing 280-foot tower