On Fear and Rescue
Yesterday, I did two things:
1) Feared for my life; and
2) Got into an argument.
First, under not the best personal advice, I spent lunch eating my way through the Scooper Bowl, then not so long thereafter, met Meathead at the gym so he could beat me the fuck up. Everything was going well, until we got to a machine that instantly tapped into my worst irrational fear - the fear of falling from a height (the corollary being having my feet off the ground). Basically this machine forces me to lean forward, "Smooth Criminal"-style, with nothing supporting me from behind except for a 1" metal lip behind my heels and whatever leverage my own body can muster up. From this position I need to cross my hands over my chest, bend down at the waist to the ground, and then straighten back up.
Physically, I knew I could do it. However, as I crossed my arms in front of me and started bending downward, terror zapped through each neuron in me. I started to shake and sweat more than normal. My breathing halted. More than once I had to uncross my arms and cling to the support bars at my sides. I seriously almost used a safeword.
I repeated this movement thirty times, stopping every five or six times to keep from hyperventilating, and to keep the tears of extreme phobia at bay. As I stepped off the machine, trembling and hitching, I told Meathead that I was fully terrorized. He didn't believe me. I laughed it off slightly, put it out of my mind as much as I could, and went on to the next bout of physical pain.
Was I in sugar shock from my previous ice cream adventure? Most likely, yes. But I also realize the power of one's own fear against something so ridiculous. Had my heels lost their grip, I would have fallen a total of 3 feet. I would have had plenty of time to uncross my arms and support my upper body, saving my precious noggin from a bump. Even if there was a catatstropic failure of mechanics and physics, the result would have been mere embarrassment rather than injury.
But that's not how fear works - even as I type now, adrenaline is rushing towards my hands and my fingers are unsure on the keys.
When I was a kid, there wasn't any reason for fear. It boiled down to understanding, readiness, and practice. We were rough and tumble kids. The woods didn't scare us because we paid attention to trail markers (or made our own). Swimming in the ocean didn't scare us because we took a few lessons at the Y and read a chapter in one of our mom's science books about buoyancy. We weren't scared about driving on the highway because we took a test and then we needed to get to work. Our family was of a very "see one, do one, teach one" mentality. We were raised to learn how to do things on our own and then make it as good as possible. We were raised to be independent, thinking adults (to which my parents both admired and deeply, deeply regretted).
Which leads me to the argument.
A colleague noted late yesterday afternoon that Abby Sunderland, the 16 year old woman who was in the process of sailing around the world, went missing. She then went on to say that her parents were idiots for letting her go in the first place, and if she is found dead at sea, her parents should be charged with her murder for daring to let her go out there on her own.
Naturally, I took offense at this. This young woman was more highly trained than people twice her age. When she got into trouble, she didn't try to make herself a hero, she did what an experienced sailor in trouble would do. She called out for help. She was in a storm, one that many sailors go through. Some survive and some don't.
I'm glad she was found this morning. I don't think that she should be sent a bill for the rescue effort (should we charge everyone in need of rescue? If so, then why are we paying for it in taxes?). I don't think that her parents should be charged with criminal negligence. I think that this 16 year old woman (and I repeat, woman, not girl), was smart, trained her whole life for this trip, sailed well, and unfortunately still got caught in a storm that would take down some other sailors, regardless of how many years they've been on earth. She's sailing around the world, of course there's going to be risk.
I feel that this woman would have felt fear when her communications were knocked out, she had no rigging control, and rescue was a minimum 40 hours away. She stated that she still had two weeks worth of provisions, and that she knew she'd be OK.
I'm glad she is. And I hope that she tries sailing around the world again as soon as possible.
1) Feared for my life; and
2) Got into an argument.
First, under not the best personal advice, I spent lunch eating my way through the Scooper Bowl, then not so long thereafter, met Meathead at the gym so he could beat me the fuck up. Everything was going well, until we got to a machine that instantly tapped into my worst irrational fear - the fear of falling from a height (the corollary being having my feet off the ground). Basically this machine forces me to lean forward, "Smooth Criminal"-style, with nothing supporting me from behind except for a 1" metal lip behind my heels and whatever leverage my own body can muster up. From this position I need to cross my hands over my chest, bend down at the waist to the ground, and then straighten back up.
Physically, I knew I could do it. However, as I crossed my arms in front of me and started bending downward, terror zapped through each neuron in me. I started to shake and sweat more than normal. My breathing halted. More than once I had to uncross my arms and cling to the support bars at my sides. I seriously almost used a safeword.
I repeated this movement thirty times, stopping every five or six times to keep from hyperventilating, and to keep the tears of extreme phobia at bay. As I stepped off the machine, trembling and hitching, I told Meathead that I was fully terrorized. He didn't believe me. I laughed it off slightly, put it out of my mind as much as I could, and went on to the next bout of physical pain.
Was I in sugar shock from my previous ice cream adventure? Most likely, yes. But I also realize the power of one's own fear against something so ridiculous. Had my heels lost their grip, I would have fallen a total of 3 feet. I would have had plenty of time to uncross my arms and support my upper body, saving my precious noggin from a bump. Even if there was a catatstropic failure of mechanics and physics, the result would have been mere embarrassment rather than injury.
But that's not how fear works - even as I type now, adrenaline is rushing towards my hands and my fingers are unsure on the keys.
When I was a kid, there wasn't any reason for fear. It boiled down to understanding, readiness, and practice. We were rough and tumble kids. The woods didn't scare us because we paid attention to trail markers (or made our own). Swimming in the ocean didn't scare us because we took a few lessons at the Y and read a chapter in one of our mom's science books about buoyancy. We weren't scared about driving on the highway because we took a test and then we needed to get to work. Our family was of a very "see one, do one, teach one" mentality. We were raised to learn how to do things on our own and then make it as good as possible. We were raised to be independent, thinking adults (to which my parents both admired and deeply, deeply regretted).
Which leads me to the argument.
A colleague noted late yesterday afternoon that Abby Sunderland, the 16 year old woman who was in the process of sailing around the world, went missing. She then went on to say that her parents were idiots for letting her go in the first place, and if she is found dead at sea, her parents should be charged with her murder for daring to let her go out there on her own.
Naturally, I took offense at this. This young woman was more highly trained than people twice her age. When she got into trouble, she didn't try to make herself a hero, she did what an experienced sailor in trouble would do. She called out for help. She was in a storm, one that many sailors go through. Some survive and some don't.
I'm glad she was found this morning. I don't think that she should be sent a bill for the rescue effort (should we charge everyone in need of rescue? If so, then why are we paying for it in taxes?). I don't think that her parents should be charged with criminal negligence. I think that this 16 year old woman (and I repeat, woman, not girl), was smart, trained her whole life for this trip, sailed well, and unfortunately still got caught in a storm that would take down some other sailors, regardless of how many years they've been on earth. She's sailing around the world, of course there's going to be risk.
I feel that this woman would have felt fear when her communications were knocked out, she had no rigging control, and rescue was a minimum 40 hours away. She stated that she still had two weeks worth of provisions, and that she knew she'd be OK.
I'm glad she is. And I hope that she tries sailing around the world again as soon as possible.