One might question what fire walking and rock climbing have in common, other than the obvious answer of adrenaline producing activities. I have to admit that before my 37th birthday, I had no interest in either. So what could have possibly enticed me to venture somewhat hesitantly into these two adventures that most would call “extreme”?
In December of 1997, I had an opportunity to travel with a co-worker to Dallas to attend a 4 day Anthony Robbins seminar. I jumped at the chance and made the drive from the Rio Grande Valley to Dallas. I was already somewhat familiar with Tony Robbins and I knew that this event included a fire walk. As I stated earlier, I had no real interest in walking across a bed of red hot coals with bare feet, but I figured I would see how I felt after the three days building up to the walk.
What I didn’t know was that the fire walk would be just after dark on the very first day. Are you kidding me? The seminar itself didn’t begin until 5:00 on a Friday afternoon and we’d be walking across fire a few hours later? That didn’t sound like enough preparation and training time to me, but now it makes sense. The firewalk was at the beginning to make a point… if I could walk on fire, an activity that I previously thought was impossible, then theoretically, operating from the mindset that something was impossible during the balance of the seminar would seem unlikely. In other words, if I can walk on fire, what else might be possible?
We went out to the hotel parking lot where there was a huge pile of wood, about 4 ft high, 4 ft wide, and about 50 ft long. Some attendees were given matches, some were given bottles of starter fluid, the kind that one might use to start a Bar-B-Que fire, and some were merely observers of the lighting ritual. I was among the latter group but that was all right since I really didn’t believe at that point my involvement would go beyond that of observer or bystander.
After the fire was lit, we all marched ourselves back into the hotel where we spent the next couple of hours preparing ourselves for the firewalk. I was still unsure about my own personal firewalking abilities, but I did pay close attention to the instruction and practiced when we went through the dry runs in the big convention room. We were encouraged to pair up and I chose a girl I didn’t know to be my partner. We practiced and rehearsed and received instruction and then the time came.
We all took the five minute walk back out to the parking lot where the huge pile of wood was reduced to mostly burning embers and coals, with flames here and there. The sun had long since eased itself over the western horizon, the parking lot lights had been extinguished for the time being, and the sight of the red hot embers was all the more dramatic in the otherwise dark parking lot. The only thing more comforting than the sight of that red glow was the warmth that radiated from the red glow. Remember, this was December in Dallas Texas after dark and it was rather cold… in the 40’s or so. There were now also beds of coals arranged several feet from each other and each bed was about twelve feet in length. I’m guessing there were 30 or so of these little beds, and these were the coals that we (if we so chose) would be walking across. This was a big relief to me because I initially thought we would be strolling through the big fire.
This is where I need to say something extremely important: DO NOT ATTEMPT TO WALK ACROSS FIRE, COALS, EMBERS, OR ANYTHING ELSE THAT MIGHT SET YOU ON FIRE WITHOUT PROPER INSTRUCTION, TRAINING, AND SUPERVISION. Just before we headed out for the firewalk, Tony told us how he had received 3rd degree burns on his feet one time. He had done hundreds of firewalks over the years without so much as a blister when during one event someone took a photograph of him on the bed of coals and the flash from the camera broke his concentration only for a second, but a second was all it took. He was badly burned, had the pictures to prove it, and we all learned that this was not to be taken lightly. And no pictures. End of disclaimer.
My partner and I got in one of the lines that were forming at each of the 12 foot beds of coals, and then we were given final instructions from Tony over a bullhorn. When our turn came, we were to either start walking, (do not run because running can lead to missteps which can lead to falling into the coals… not good), or we were to step out of the line and watch. At the far end of each walk was a patch of green grass that we would step on while our feet were doused with water from a water hose. This was to prevent burning if a small coal found its way between our toes. My decision had already been made, I would step aside. I was only in line to begin with in order to support my partner when she walked. There were people who had also decided not to participate standing on the opposite side of the coal beds having chosen to not even get in line at all.
Then the firewalking began.
My position in our line was about 30 or 35 from the beginning so I had the opportunity to observe quite a few people before it was my turn when I would step aside. I watched our line, and I watched the lines to my right and to my left. I was behind my partner so she would go first before I stepped out the line. We inched closer and closer to the front of the line and then it was my partner’s turn. She turned to me, she smiled, we each enthusiastically said her focus word to each other, and off she went. She took about 6 or 8 deliberate steps across the coals and when she reached the other side, her feet were hosed off, she took a couple of steps beyond the grass, and she jumped about 20 feet straight up in the air, or so it seemed at the time. I barely knew this girl, having met her for the first time only a few hours before, and yet I was so very proud of her. Her face absolutely beamed, and I knew she was even more proud of herself than I was for her accomplishment.
Then it was my turn. A million things flew through my mind. It was now or never… but it wasn’t. Just as I was about to make my final decision, the coordinator for our line told me to wait a second, and a wheelbarrow full of fresh coals from the big fire was added to our smaller bed. It was now hotter and redder, and I would surely be stepping out now. But before I could, my partner had come back around, grabbed me by the shoulders, shouted MY focus word to me several times until I started shouting it back, and then I started walking.
I will attempt to describe the feelings and sensations I had for the next few moments, but it may be difficult to understand. I was looking straight ahead but slightly upward. There was a person on each side of me holding my arms loosely more to guide me than to support me, and I was able to set my own pace. In my mind I was loosely imagining myself walking on a bed of cool moss, but at the same time my primary focus was forcing all of my bodily energy downward through the bottoms of my feet so as to not allow the heat from the red hot embers to damage the soles of my footsies. I took about 6 very deliberate steps, not really fast but also not stopping to ponder whether or not I had remembered to pay the electric bill. I could feel the coals on my feet, as if I was walking across rocks, but not as hard as rocks, more like walking across a bed of wadded up towels, and I felt no heat. That may seem hard to believe but it’s the truth. No heat at all.
When I reached the pad of grass, the two hands holding on to my arms stopped me, I felt the cold water from the hose hit my feet, the two arms let go of me, and I took a few steps and jumped about 20 feet straight up in the air… or so it seemed. My partner was there. We quickly walked away from the bed of coals, embraced each other tightly and cried tears of elation. It was done.
Lynn - 1, Red hot coals - 0
And it happened exactly the way I had envisioned it happening, when I had allowed myself to visualize walking rather than stepping aside.
The visualization was a big part of our preparation. We were told repeatedly by Tony “See the ending. Knowing where you will end up is as important as knowing where to start”, or words to that effect. I’ve heard many, many times how a professional athlete will visualize the entire routine in his or her mind’s eye before the first muscle is moved. I once heard Jack Nicklaus describe how this is done prior to each and every golf shot he takes. I’ll have to paraphrase here because I don’t have the exact quote.
“The first thing I do before every shot is to see in my mind where I want the ball to end up. I have to see that very clearly. Then I visualize what kind of flight the ball must take to end up there. I see very precisely the ball’s entire trajectory from the time the club strikes it to the point where it comes to rest in the spot I have chosen. Then I choose the club and the type of swing that will send the ball on that exact flight path. I see myself distinctly making that swing several times before I step up to the ball, then all is left is to make that swing.”
I’ve heard other athletes in other sports similarly describe how they basically take the same approach in visualizing the desired outcome before they begin the activity. The successful baseball player has swung the bat thousands and thousands of times in his mind before he takes his first major league pitch. The same must be said for the basketball player, or hockey player, or tennis player, or football quarterback, or Olympic gymnast, swimmer, skier, boxer, figure skater, marathon runner, and on and on and on.
And the importance of this visualization extends well beyond the world of sports. I’m sure surgeons perform delicate procedures in their minds many times over before they don their surgical mask. What about attorneys when preparing their closing statements, or the businessman before that big presentation in front of all the stockholders, or the actress before the director yells “Action!”? Firemen, I’m sure, are trained to go through as many different scenarios as they can imagine in their mind’s eye before they go out on their first call. It makes sense to me to practice all of these things in advance rather than wait until a whirlwind of activity distracts you when the actual moment arrives. In the case of the fireman, this preparation can literally mean the difference between life or death.
So I was able to visualize my walk, as well as my stepping aside when the time came. Either way, I was prepared. And once it was done, a pattern was in place for not only visualizing, but the other steps it took as well, and this pattern could be duplicated and applied in any number of situations or challenges.
A month or so after the firewalk, I was in Las Vegas with some friends I had met online, to attend the wedding of two of those friends. I was there for 3 or 4 days, playing blackjack, learning how to conduct myself at the craps tables, and taking in and enjoying the camaraderie and friendship of long time friends that I was meeting for the first time. That sounds strange I know, but that’s exactly what was happening. I was also taking in the sights and sounds of Vegas, seeing some shows, eating at some fine restaurants, and moving between ever changing groups of friends. The only thing the entire group did together was attend the wedding itself.
At some point, I found myself alone with my friend Jana and we were just walking the strip together, stopping in here to do a little shopping or walking through this casino or that casino, wherever and whatever we felt like. We were more interested in getting to know each other a little better I think and all the other stuff was just peripheral sidebars. She was married and I was seeing someone else so it wasn’t wanting to get to know each other better in a romantic sense, we had become somewhat good friends online and we just wanted to have some real experiences together rather than only chat room cyberspace experiences. So we walked and talked and let ourselves get distracted by Las Vegas.
Then we went into an establishment that sold items that were Coca Cola in nature, furniture, wall hangings, clothing, that kind of stuff. We also found out that the three floors below the Coca Cola store were filled with the same kind of items, but instead of Coke, these floors were M&Ms, and on the very bottom floor were bin after bin after bin of M&Ms in every color imaginable. These of course were available to purchase, and people would get these tall skinny plastic bags and start filling them with M&Ms to create a design kind of like the way one might create sand art in a glass vase or jar. It was really cool except I personally thought the several shades of grey M&Ms were gross because it looked like someone had already put them in their mouth and sucked all of the color off and then put them back in the bins.
In the same building as the Coca Cola and M&M stores was a 100 ft rock climbing wall. Jana immediately started in on me to climb this thing. There were harnesses and ropes and pulleys and other devices to keep one from plummeting back to Earth so safety wasn’t really a concern. The real issue is that I have a thing about heights. Don’t really like to be up there, unless I'm flying in planes. I have a really hard time walking up to a window on the 20th floor of an office building, so climbing this rock wasn’t anywhere near the top of my list of things to do in the foreseeable future.
But then, neither was firewalking a month earlier.
And then it hit me… why not? Why shouldn’t I be able to apply the same techniques of preparation and visualization that I used to walk across red hot coals to climbing this artificial rock? I gave Jana a short 30 second crash course in what I was about to do and explained that it would take me some time (I figured on 30 minutes) to get myself mentally prepared, and she said she would run back to her hotel room to retrieve her camera so we could preserve the event in pictures. Well that was perfect for me because I felt I needed to be alone while I prepared and if she were gone there would be no distractions.
So I went through all the steps that I had learned in Dallas and laid the mental groundwork in anticipation for this newest challenge. The thing I focused on the most, and thus visualized the most, was how it would look at different stages of the climb when I looked down and would see just how far off the ground I was. I knew what it would look like at 20 feet, 30 feet, 50 feet, 75 feet, and even 100 feet when I had reached the top. I went through these visualizations over and over and it was less uneasy to my mind and stomach each time I went through this exercise. By the time Jana returned with her camera, I was so used to looking down in my mind that I was starting to visualize holding on to the rock with one hand and letting go with the other to wave to the crowd below. Powerful stuff, this visualization.
The moment was getting close but I was at ease. I had already put on my special rock-climbing shoes and been harnessed up and received instructions from the young man that was to guide and direct me as well as have a firm grasp on the rope to which my harness was attached. He would be able to communicate with me by way of a small microphone attached to his shirt and a small speaker mounted next to my ear inside the safety helmet I was to wear. I would communicate back by using several hand signals that we went over one more time.
And I started to climb. At first the ascent was very easy. The hand and footholds were easy to find and I fell into a comfortable rhythm and cadence, climbing at a slow to moderate speed, and every time I looked down I was pretty familiar with what my eyes beheld, having seen it numerous times already in my mind during my rehearsals on the ground.
It started getting difficult about 40 or 50 feet up, but only because my body wasn’t in rock-climbing form and the strength in my legs and arms were beginning to wane. I really wanted to keep climbing so I knew I would have to pace myself if I were to reach the summit of this beastly structure. I began to find comfortable positions and would stop to rest every 8 to 10 feet or so. My trainer would ask me via microphone and speaker if I was ok and I would give him a thumbs up to signal that I wasn’t finished. A thumbs down would indicate that I was done and ready to head back down. I even managed a few waves to Jana and the other people below, just as I had previously envisioned.
Higher and higher I climbed and while my legs were starting to ache, I wasn’t about to quit. Looking down from 60 feet was a piece of cake. At 70 feet, Jana was very hard to distinguish from the others in the crowd, but my nerves were as steady as the rock to which I was clinging. When I got to somewhere around the 80 feet mark (I learned this later from rope guy) I could feel the goal was within reach. A few more pulls with my arms and a few more pushes with my legs and I would accomplish yet another activity that I previously had considered impossible for me. I looked up to see how close I was and that’s when it happened.
In all my mental preparations to become comfortable with looking down and seeing how far I was off the ground, it never once occurred to me that I should also visualize looking up at the top. When I looked up, something totally unexpected happened. Once I saw how close I was to the top, I froze. To this day I can’t explain why looking up set off those same uneasy, stomach churning feelings that I would normally associate with looking down from high places, but that's exactly what happened. My arms and legs instantly felt very weak, I started to perspire that cold and clammy sweat you get just before you crawl to the bathroom to throw up, and I was totally and thoroughly frozen to the side of this rock.
My rope guy must have seen the change in my body language because he very softly and gently asked if I was still with him. Gone was the good-natured,”Hey buddy, how ya doin’ up there?” There was a new concern in his voice, and this didn’t exactly help matters. I was frozen and it quickly became apparent to me that I was in trouble when I couldn’t respond. I tried to get back into my comfort zone by looking down and finding Jana, but she was somewhere down there in an indistinguishable sea of faces that had relocated itself from its former position of a comfortable mere 80 feet away to an impossibly ludicrous location that appeared to be somewhere between a mile and a mile and a half straight down from where I was clinging and literally hanging on for gear life.
I tried to signal my trainer on the other end of the rope, the guy that used to be my friend, that I was more than ready to come down, but letting go to give the thumbs down signal was nowhere near the realm of possible actions that I could take at this particular moment. The only thing I could think of was “Don’t let go… don’t let go… don’t let go…”
Rope guy continued to talk to me in an increasingly calming voice, suggesting that I just hang out where I was for the time being, to just think of this as another rest stop, and most importantly to relax just a little bit so the muscles in my arms and legs don’t start to cramp and I end up losing my grip. He assured me that he had me and even if I did slip off the rock, I wasn’t going anywhere until he eased me down to a soft and gentle landing on my two feet whenever I was ready. I still thought they might have to send the fire and rescue squad to come up and get me.
I closed my eyes for a couple of minutes, summoned the strength to give him the thumbs down signal, and with his help, I was able to visualize myself letting go of the rock and being slowly lowered to the ground. When I looked down again, the ground wasn’t so far away as before, I spotted Jana and gave a quick little nod of my head, and let go of the rock and leaned back into the waiting arms of thin air. When I didn’t plummet to my death, I was able to help rope guy to help me down by keeping my feet on or near the rock, much like the way those guys on the SWAT teams or in Special Forces rappel down the side of a steep cliff or tall building.
The descent wasn’t nearly as fun as the climb, but it wasn’t all that horrible either. When I reached the ground the crowd of spectators gave me a nice round of applause, as they did for everyone who either did or didn’t make it to the top. I felt that the ovation for me was a little louder and longer than it was for others because of my struggles up there, but I’m sure that was just my imagination.
I was helped out of my harness and congratulated by rope dude, we shook hands and he told me that he hoped I would come back and give it another shot someday. He said he would watch for me. I don’t know if he said that to everyone who tried but didn’t reach the top, but it was a really nice thing for him to say and it sure meant a lot to me at the time. I changed back into my tennis shoes and Jana and I started walking back to our hotel. I was suddenly exhausted and exhilarated at the same time and all I really wanted to do was to go to my room and take a nap. Jana was extremely sensitive and didn’t say one word about what happened. She told me she got some good pictures and looked forward to sharing them with me. Other than that there wasn’t a whole lot of conversation on the way back. I was trying to process the whole experience and really didn’t feel much like talking. I was probably also trying not to cry.
I knew immediately what had happened… I should have imagined myself looking up to the top. That one little thing would have made all the difference. All in all, it was an excellent learning experience and one that I’m glad I have to draw strength from even today when needed. I learned that looking up can be as harrowing as looking down. I hope that someday I will have the opportunity to return and settle things with that rock. I have been able to apply those same principles of preparation with greater success in several other challenges I have faced, which might explain why I didn’t faint when Sheri walked through the gate and down the aisle on our wedding day. And I now know exactly what adrenaline tastes like. My mouth was full of the taste as Jana and I quietly walked back to the hotel.
Lynn - 0, Big rock - 1
Who would have guessed?
Until next time...
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