0.25 Hours

Have you seen the biographical adventure film 127 Hours starring James Franco? If not, see it. With nothing but determination to live and embodying a bit of insanity, he cuts off his right arm to free his life from being wedged by a boulder to the side of a canyon wall. This mere act of survival takes place after 127 hours without food, 250 ml's of water and hallucinations that would have left anyone else dead. I was moved by this film. I felt invincible on the one hand yet weak and soft on the other from all the times life has thrown me a curve ball and I buckled. The real life character, Aron Ralston, goes on to survive this experience, savouring precious moments with his family, falls in love and has a family of his own. Nothing was amiss except his right forearm. His heart, mind and soul were/are still intact.


Was this freak of nature the result of overcoming the mental battle? I should say it was indeed. His hallucinations were coupled with powerful visualizations that kept him motivated to live. During the 5 days he is trapped, we see Aron experience passion, excitement, happiness and yearned for human interaction again someday. Through severe blood loss, dehydration and fatigue his mind transported him to new places - swimming with friends, making love, sipping a cold beer, re-enacting a Game Show. This mental transportation seemingly numbed the current reality and sensations that could have prevented another breath.

The day after seeing this film, I had dental surgery. "Ha," I said to my dentist of 35 years, "no need to freeze my gums, pain doesn't scare me." Dr Kay obviously didn't believe me and went on to poke a dagger size needle in my upper left gum. I was weepy and sore for a week.

Come the Oliver Olympic distance triathlon last weekend, I was (as all athletes were) faced with another major challenge: the temperature of the lake water. Nevermind the race itself, it was the glacial temperatures of the water that had me running for the hills. Even writing this makes me feel like a wuss but standing at the race start on Sunday morning, I may have almost opted for a boulder on my arm than to enter the 14 degrees water of little Tuc El Nuit Lake. Spring had not sprung and the algae were floating popsicles.

Damned and determined to stay warm, I wore three bathing caps (including a neoprene) and refused to even dip my toes in the water prior to the Start Gun. A parka, gloves and beanie were waiting for me after the swim (assuming I survived). My plan was to yank, pull and struggle these dry clothes onto my wet body for the bike leg of the race. The race organizer hardly seemed to care that the water was below "normal" temperatures. He was readying the field for the start and giving the last minutes safety tips (was this a joke?). Before my mind would buckle my knees, we were off. The last thing I remember was a friend saying to me, "hope you don't hyperventilate." Yep, okay then.

While I never did warm up, I had the good sense to make light of my petty insecurity about submerging my body in cold water. Was this the worst thing in the world? If Aron Ralston can be stuck in a canyon for 127 hours prior to removing his own arm, I think I can handle 0.25 hours of uncomfortable water flowing through my wetsuit. I think I can.

Once into transition, I had a momentary lapse of reason when I considered riding without my parka, gloves and beanie. I forced myself to stick to my plan and dress accordingly. This did take an additional eternity no matter how swiftly I struggled. I choose warmth over T1 speed and knew it would pay off. I reasoned that a warm body is a fast body.

The rest of the race unfolded as I had hoped. I hunkered into an aero position and never came up for a breather until T2 was in sight. In the lead position and just about to break a sweat (that was how cold the air was), I disrobed to my race suit. Another moment of comedy struck when everyone leaving transition yelled, "I can't feel my feet." Surely 10 km run would take care of that.

With a two loop run course, athletes were able to share in the candy pain and feel the support from the spectators. Tara Lee Marshall and her husband Sean Clarke were hosting a CMS Coaching Training Camp for a handful of their talented athletes. Tara Lee's vocal projection of encouragement went unmatched and she had a serious contingent of athletes to cheer for.

As the finish line neared, feelings of excitement crept in knowing the triathlon season was truly open for play. The swim felt like a distant past. The weather seemed almost pleasant. Thoughts of, "when can we do this again?" jogged around in my imagination. The finish line creates perspective. Accomplishment creates belief.

Aron Ralston's innate capacity to use mental creativity and unwavering determination was/is astounding. He would mock my fear of cold water, as do I (in hindsight).

May we all thrive in our pursuits and seek to find opportunity when initially "it" was an obstacle. Sport gives us the arena to overcome, be great and rise to the challenge. Use your arena today, tomorrow and the day after that.

Next up, Honu 70.3 on June 4th. Shall I rant about the heat next time?