i can't tell you how good it felt to pass that bloody muddy finish line.

the night before, i found myself sizing up the 18 intimidating obstacles that would await me the next day. what if i looked like an idiot, couldn't do it, broke a bone (or two!) - or worse - got frustrated and gave up and made a fool of myself in front of my team?

all legit fears, i'll have you know. but when i got there and met up with my team two minutes before our start time, i felt at ease. facing your fears in the midst of good company will do that to you.

the first few obstacles were easy; we had to make our way through a huge mud pit, crawl our way through the "camo crawl" and jump a small (but not too small) wall (which you can imagine i did ever so graciously), gaining momentum and confidence as each one passed.

but then i hit my first 'real' obstacle: the one they call king kong, and for great reason.

i made it to the top of the first ladder but froze in fear when i saw what stood in between me and the way down: a checkerboard shaped net made of unstable, wobbly ropes. in order to get make it to safety, i was required to cross it in a crablike manner. oh helllllllll no. i took my crablike attitude back down the ladder with me and tapped out.

this is when my mental strength came into play. i told myself that it was okay to opt out of something that terrified me to that degree (stay tuned for a story about when i chose the opposite) and that me being incapable of 'conquering the kong' didn't have to stop or discourage me from completing the course set up for me ahead.

a few obstacles later, those darn wobbly ropes stared me in the face again. i thought about bypassing it, i really did, but then two of my teammates assured me that i could do it and offered to wait for me at the top to coach me on how to make it through. and i did; they were exactly what i needed in order to conquer this specific obstacle (and my fear of it), and for that i am forever grateful.

of course, i helped people get over their hurdles, too. in fact, i very quickly adopted the nickname, "paula, push my ass" (which i soon learned meant to hold it in place, too - sorry, peeps.) when anyone needed an extra push to make it over a wall, i was there. we all were there. and it made a world of difference.

we cheered one another on, held each other's hands as we went down the massive and scary water slide that inevitably slammed us into a pool of thick, dark mud, respected one another's limits and gave each other grace when we couldn't complete something, stood in awe as we watched our teammates challenge themselves to tackle the highest of walls in spiderman fashion (i'm talking to you, karen bott), gave each other key high-fives and hugs, laughed a lot and celebrated our accomplishment as we crossed the finish line together 6km later...with help from our photo bomber, josh lott. (love you , bud!)

i'll have you know that my nearing 40 year old muscles took a beating that day (and the past two), but i had an absolute blast and am already planning to tackle next year's race. of course, i'll be taking the lessons i learned this year with me:

one, no matter how many people have told you that you can accomplish 'anything you put your mind to', we all have our limits and that's okay.

two, by the same token, 'quitting' isn't always a bad thing; mental strength is crucial to overcoming any obstacle and reminding yourself that it's okay (and human!) to 'fail" is crucial, too.

and lastly, like i said after hiking the grand canyon not too long a go, we can accomplish a heck of a lot more (and go a lot further in life) when we do so together. no journey is meant to be traveled alone.

SO ... who's in next year? :)

she stumbled through the subway car asking people for change with a confidence i haven't seen in many having to do the same.

i pulled out the tims card i had in my bag for this very purpose and called her over. she smiled, let out a big "YAY!" and sat down beside me as if she were content with this very small gift. she looked at me, grinned from ear to ear and started speaking to me in french. then english. then spanish.

"you're very bright," i told her. "it's really hard to be able to speak in many languages."

"i'm a writer", she said. "i write about street culture."

she told me her name and told me that i could find her writing on the internet. i promised i'd look her up and read her stuff once i had service again (which i did); she thanked me for the tims' card once again, and before we went our separate ways, she turned around and told me that she would never forget my face.

"i won't forget yours either, shannon", i said before she disappeared. i wondered if any one else would have the chance to see just how brilliant and grateful this lady was despite her appearance. looks can be deceiving, after all.

ten minutes later, i found myself taking part in church of the holy trinity's monthly service to honour all of those who have lost their lives to homelessness and/or drug addiction the past four weeks. it took me all of ten seconds to notice that i was standing on a sidewalk full of names (and well wishes) that were very carefully and thoughtfully written in chalk - their very own 'guest book', if you will. unsurprisingly to me, there were a lot of 'john and jane does'; it seemed fitting that our new friend don approached the mic to recite a poem he had written to remember all of the 'unnamed' people who had passed away on our very own streets.

"i miss you, jane", he said before passing the mic onto someone else. his passionate cry didn't fall on deaf ears. not mine. not my interns. not the countless other people who showed up to remember, either. his cry, in fact, tugged at our hearts.

the next guy spoke of justice and let us all know that he has invited, and will continue to invite, john tory, rob ford and justin trudeau to these monthly gatherings in hopes that they can see the impact our broken system has on this population, meet the people affected by it and give us some answers.

"we want answers", they said.

and you know something? so do i.

i want to know why there are 5,000 people living in our shelter system and/or on the streets or why housing is so unaffordable. i would like to know why food banks are running low on food and why brilliant friends like shannon are pacing the subway begging for spare change.

my students and i continued this conversation for a bit this afternoon. it's one thing to hand out socks and sandwiches and serve at different organizations that do the same (all of which are important), but it's another thing to stand in the gap, be a voice for the voiceless, and fight our broken system head on. truth be told, we're not exactly sure how to do this quite yet, but one thing's for sure: we stand with every jane and john doe, every shannon, and every last one who showed up to mourn, remember, and cry out for justice today.