Thursday, December 31, 2009

Devastation on the North Shore

2009/12/30

In writing this entry, I wasn’t too worried that too much time will have passed after the North Shore Fire physical, because that was one of those days that I will remember in explicit detail for the rest of my life. I keep reliving snippets of it, second-guessing that maybe I could have done things different/ better/ faster/ stronger, questioning if I had the right mind-set going in, wondering if I really gave it my all. And I keep getting the same answer – I don’t know. So much has happened since then, but I feel a sense of duty in recording the happenings of that day, and to never forget the feelings I had before, during, and after.

I was still spiritually bruised from my Surrey debacle, and still had that cloud of self-doubt hanging heavy over me. I was not exactly confident going in, as a number of my well-meaning FF friends reminded me that this test would be difficult at best. For the first time, the three North Shore departments (West Vancouver, North Van City, and District of North Van) were doing a joint application process, and an amalgamated 2-stage physical.

The first stage was to do the Fit-Tech Assessment at the JI in Maple Ridge. It’s a baseline standard test comprised of nine separate components:

1) Resting heart rate and blood pressure
2) Body composition
3) Hand grip
4) Flexibility
5) Push-ups (1 minute)
6) Sit-ups (1 minute)
7) Upright row (65 lb barbell)
8) Equipment shuttle run
9) 1.5 mile run

I did this test last year and scored an 87% overall, with the upright row and shuttle run bringing down what would have been a consistent score in the high 90’s. Basically, the hiring department wants to know you won’t DIE on the Skills and Abilities testing session. This time around, August 16th, I improved in each component so I felt pretty good about going into the North Shore S & A.

Well, they tested 92 guys and 3 girls over 2 days, Sept 12-13, and I got news down the grapevine that Day One was brutal. Quitting, puking, collapsing in the tower and going to the hospital… I knew this North Shore physical was going to be the toughest yet, even harder than Surrey’s, but holy crap, this was not a good confidence-booster! But the only thing I could do was give it my all.

September 13. My turn. The North Shore Skills and Abilities testing is a series of tasks that are typical to the position of Firefighter. Tasks for the first test include a tower climb and hose raise, coupling exercise, hose drag and discharge, ladder raise, ladder extension and victim drag. Confined space room search and 100’ aerial ladder climb are separate components done after the first test. Sounded simple enough. I’ve done those elements numerous times, except the 35’ ladder raise. 24’ yes, but the whole 35’ is another story. That MF is big and heavy, and even in training at Fire Academy and Abbotsford I never had to raise the whole thing, just to the required height of the building we were to ladder. And even as a trainer, nothing can really simulate that in the gym, even odd object training, so I couldn’t get good practice for it. But, no time like the present! HA!

The Tower Climb was special. Yes we were in full PPE minus SCBA, yes we had an apartment pack to carry up, but that was standard. No, for North Shore, we had to carry an EXTRA 40lb duffle bag. Awkward, yes. Easy, no. Needless to say, I could not run up those stairs, so I took a step at a time. My proctor was very encouraging and said I was going at a good pace. At the top, I dump everything in the designated area, then proceed to the hose raise. A 40lb roll of large diameter hose suspended by rope, and I just pulled it up with a reverse grip as I had practiced many times. I think I surprised them at how smoothly I did it. Then hustle back down the stairs, touching every step of the way to the…

… Hose Coupling station. Connect, disconnect at a standpipe, connect, disconnect 2.5” hose couplings, connect & disconnect a 2.5” hose to a nozzle. That was easy; again, I had practiced and so just tried to keep focus and regulate my breathing for the ass-kicking I was about to get, but not before the…

… Charged hose drag. Throw a charged (full of water) 1.5” hose over the shoulder, run and drag it towards a target about 75’ away, open the nozzle (set from a fog pattern to a straight stream) and squirt away. Dragging the last few feet, I think I was nearly horizontal leaning forward, the friction from the entire length of charged hose stretched out was incredible. But mission accomplished.

Next was the 24’ ladder raise. I’ve done this in virtually every physical test I’ve taken, so it was pretty easy – a ladder is lying on the ground, and I just have to walk it up against the building, rung by rung. Awkward because the helmet puts my head at an angle and limits my vision, but it’s a straightforward task.

Then the ass-kicking begins. The 35’ ladder extension. Basically, you have to pull the halyard (rope) of this 3-section ladder (anchored to the wall), in a downward motion, which raises up each section of the ladder one by one. The evil part about this is that the first section is the lightest, so it goes up fairly easy. Then it picks up the second section, and now it’s not fun anymore. In fact, it hurts. The grip weakens, you’re breathing hard, your body is screaming, and if you are 5’4” and 130lbs like me, you are really thinking another 10” in height and 75lbs would sure come in handy about now. But I didn’t magically grow, and the ladder wasn’t going to raise itself, so I just had to dig in and keep pulling. I had to lock the dogs off near the top, just to take a breather, lest the whole thing slide back down faster than you can say “gravity”. Once I hit the top, I lowered it back down, and was on to the final station – the victim drag.

By now I’m unbelievably fatigued, but there’s still a 175lb dude named Randy wearing full turnout gear I need to rescue. But apparently Randy is in a difficult-to-get-to, difficult-to-egress from spot, because instead of a straightforward, out-and-back course, I must drag him zigzag around cones, 50’ and 50’ back. Moving any cones would be a 5 sec penalty. I know I wasted a lot of time on the 35’ ladder, A LOT, so I knew I had to hustle like nobody’s business if I was going to pass. I had no idea at the time WHAT time standard I had to meet, but I knew I was pushing it. While the dummy is no stranger to me, and we have this love-hate relationship, he doesn’t complain about me manhandling him. So I got as best a grip I could, and dragged away. Uh oh. This was going to be a bitch. I was so slow, the serpentine pattern I had to follow was hard to do, and my grip was slipping. It usually does, because I can’t reach all the way around him like most guys can, so I always end up doing isometric bicep curls with him trying to stay upright. It’s so hard navigating around those damn cones! I have to change my grip a few times, until finally I toppled backwards and Randy landed on top of me. Not kinda off to the side, no, he was square on top of me. Body, arms, legs, everything. Thank goodness I have years of judo under my belt, because I did a classic escape move, pushed him away from me, and got myself back up. I even vaguely heard a guy cheer me on, calling my name. (Thanks Burnsie!) I’m pretty sure I was out of time by then, but I was not going to stop until the proctors made me. Actually, I don’t think they thought I was going to get up after he fell on me. But I am the embodiment of “indomitable spirit”, and I refused to quit. They didn’t stop me, I didn’t hear any whistler or alarms, so I dug deep and kept on going. One ugly backwards step at a time. Visualizing a round, red, angry face screaming at me. Finally, with about 20 feet to go (I think), they stopped me. Time was up.

I failed.

Again.

No Confined Space Course to navigate.

No Aerial Ladder to climb.

I was done.

And completely devastated.

That was the end of another unfinished journey.

I peeled off the layers and made my way to the cooling tent to be monitored. Well hey, at least I didn’t puke, pass out, or need to get transported by EHS. But I knew that there were only 3 girls that made it this far, and the 2 others had already failed. I knew the proctors, and my acquaintances, were really pulling for me to pass this. I felt like someone had yanked out my heart, not from the physical stress, but from the emotional upheaval of another failure. I stayed to watch the guy behind me, as long as I could. They had to break for lunch, so I went back to the truck in a zombie-like state. Only then did I start sobbing, wow, even Surrey didn’t hit me this hard. I just couldn’t let it go. I still can’t.

I have since been told that there was about a 30% fail rate for this new testing standard, which is apparently pretty high. It makes me feel a little better knowing that I wasn’t the only one who got their ass handed to them that day. I also heard I made it farther than the other girls, and although I’ll admit being the first to try to erase gender lines, I did feel a bit proud. I do know that this failure did not deter me in any way, and I will learn from my weaknesses and do better next time.

And “next time” could be here soon. As 2009 draws to a close, and I think about all of the hardships I’ve overcome this past year, I can’t wait to get a kickstart on 2010. New direct, new vision, new goals, and a new determination for victory… On Jan 22, I have an interview with Vancouver Fire Rescue. I made it past the online application, the 4 hours of written exams, the resume screening, and now the Panel Interview. Wish me luck! More blogging, more frequently, to come… I promise!

Happy New Year to all!

Friday, October 2, 2009

Better Late Than Never - the Surrey Fire Rescue Test narrative

I started this entry in July, sat on it, and completed it today. I thought might forget some things, but as I started to write again, the memories came flooding back in agonizing detail. For those of you who have supported me in my quest for fire, thank you, and I look forward to your input!

2009/07/19

The last three months have been one long rollercoaster ride, and I don’t mean the high-tech, smooth-riding, space-aged coasters with the 5 point-harnesses and cushioned seats, I’m talking about the rickety wooden, whiplash-inducing, brain-bruising antiques from yesteryear where only the stupid or the daring let go of the handrails as they scream into oblivion. Yes, that has been my life, and while I am always “too busy” for a number of things, I was actively avoiding the blogoshphere (is that a word?) because, well, I didn’t know what to say.

My blogging hiatus started off on a good note with even better reason – a brand-new relationship with a special someone that looked promising. The connection was instant; the family introductions came quickly, and all our free time was spent gazing into each other’s eyes and making the rest of the world gag at our newfound happiness. Not to go on, but the relationship was not meant to be and we parted amicably. What it was, however, was a blow to the ego, and caused me to doubt who I WAS, who I wanted to BE, and what I thought I WANTED. During this time, I was actively pursuing a coveted spot in the Surrey Fire Department and taking each agonizing step towards that elusive goal mine – that of becoming a career firefighter, once again.

So for a while, I was unfocused when I needed to be laser-like; my thoughts floating on clouds of self-doubt when I needed to be on solid ground, and I shrouded myself with a cloak of negativity when I needed to be positive. But with the support of a very patient network around me, I got back in the game and gave Surrey my best shot.

I made it past the initial resume screening and was invited to write the entrance exam; I passed that and was scheduled to participate in Stage One (of Two) of the fitness testing on my birthday, July 5. What a present to give myself! Since my mother died six years ago on July 2, every birthday since then has been tortuous. What was supposed to have been a fun family occasion turned into heartbreak as we planned her funeral and tried to pick up the pieces of our shattered lives. This time of the year has always been emotionally trying since then, but, as with all obstacles and challenges that have come my way, I dealt with it the best I could. So I harnessed all my nervous energy and showed Surrey that this old broad could keep up with kids 15 years her junior.

It was a pretty straightforward day; standard fitness testing which included height/ weight/ measurements, sit & reach, grip strength, pushups (no time limit), situps (2 min), and 1.5 mile run. I killed it! It was one of those tests they make you do to make sure you won’t die during the practical fitness test wearing all the gear, etc. I was pretty proud, and confident I would move on to the next stage the following week. I did, and waited one tortuous week for the fateful day.

I knew what the tasks were, and thought I had trained appropriately. I also knew Surrey’s Skills physical was notoriously difficult, but all I could do was give it my best shot. There were 3 skills at 3 different stations, 9 total tasks to complete. There was a time frame, but they were not disclosing what the limits were. That’s what throws me. For CPAT, I know I have 10:20 to hustle before the countdown alarm beeps that the test is over. The first time I did CPAT, I didn’t know how to pace, and timed out. The second and third times, I knew exactly and was successful. But for the Surrey test, I had no idea how to pace myself.

The first stage consisted of the aerial ladder climb, dummy drag, and confined space maze. Aerial is not a problem for me; I love the rush and the view at the top is oh-so-cool! Next I did the dummy drag; it was different than any that I’d done before because we had to go under barricades and in serpentine fashion, but it wasn’t so bad, probably because it was so close to the beginning. Next was the confined space with blackout mask. Basically they test for claustrophobia, and see where your confidence level is at. Again, not a problem for me.

Then the Tower Station. Oh, the Tower Station. This is where I knew I would be challenged. Not impossible, because I can DO the tasks, but in a timely manner was another story. First, we had to simulate an extension ladder raise by hoisting an LDH (large diameter hose) roll up the tower via pulley, lower, then repeat. Well, the first time was ok, not easy, but doable. The second time was harder. I got it up, but once the hose roll hit the pulley, it bounced and pulled the rope out of my hands! So I had to do it a third time, which, well, took everything I had to complete. It was not at all pretty. I fact, the proctor told me I was allowed to bypass one station, and I could move on if I chose. Well, there’s no way I was going to quit and move on. Maybe that was a dumb move on my part, but I couldn’t leave a task undone. So I finally completed my third set, then up the tower I went. We had to carry a hi-rise bundle of hose, about 40lbs, up the stairs, switch shoulders, down the stairs, and repeat. Then go up the stairs with nothing for the final 3rd. I’m ok with stairs and hose; I chose not to run up and down but tried to keep a steady pace, so I had some energy for the last drill. The part I was MOST worried about, because it’s difficult to train for. From the top of the tower, we had to raise a roll of LDH hose to the top of the railing, lower, then repeat. Most departments make their candidates do this once, but Surrey was twice. Great! Given that my grip was already shot from my 3 hose raises, I knew this was going to be a huge task for me. And it proved to be. I tried many different techniques; I was even allowed to step on the rope to take an active “rest”, but for the first time, a negative thought flashed through my mind – “Oh my. I may actually NOT be able to complete this task!” I was stunned that I actually considered this, but the mind does funny things under stress. Well, tick tick tick, it took everything I had, I could hear the guys down below cheering me on, so I summoned up all of my strength and got ‘er done. But it was uuuuugggglllyyy!!

And it was only 2/3 over. We still had another station of 3 drills to go. I actually thought it wouldn’t be so bad – drag 190lbs of hose on a sled out and back; ladder balance walk, and 100lb LDH hose carry. I know I can do all of THAT because I had trained for it… I thought.

I have this big tire at the Y, and I would load it with extra weight, fix a makeshift harness around it, throw on my 50lb weight vest, and drag it behind me. Not easy, but I trained. So the actual test was good, because the weight was lighter, and the harness was cushier. I didn’t sprint since I was almost already horizontal trying to leverage that sled properly, but completed the task. Next, I had to carry a hydrant kit across a 14’ roof ladder horizontally, raised about 6” off the ground. Done. Finally, the LDH carry. I have sandbags, KBs, sloshpipe and other awkward pieces of equipment I used in my training for this, but nothing prepared me for the sheer immensity and awkwardness of 2 x 50’ lengths of 4” LDH in an unsecured straight roll that is approximately 3’ in diameter, weighing in at 100lbs. This was the LAST station. And I would be done. 50’ out, 50’ back. On paper I thought it would be pretty straightforward, as 100lbs is and easy weight for me. But after the supreme ass-kicking I got at the Tower Station, I was running on empty with nothing left in my reserve line. But I gave it my best. The roll was lying inconspicuously on its side on the tailboard of a fire truck parked in the bay. Deep squat, try to find a comfy (-ish) hold around the roll, deadlift up, turnaround and walk. The secret to lifting heavy stuff is to have it close to the body. Well, being 5’4”, that roll covered up my face and vision, so I had to lower it so I could see where I was going. I made it all the way to the halfway point, but at the turnaround, my arms gave way and the roll slipped from my grasp. Great. Now I had a 100lb roll of unsecured hose on the ground that I had to pick up. Awkward, awkward, awkward. I kicked myself for dropping it, but my forearms were shot. I managed to get it back up off the ground, made it about 15 more feet, and down she went for a second time. I knew I wasn’t allowed to drag it, but I did know I still had some juice left in my legs. So I tipped it upright, shoved my hands through the folds, loaded my hips, and gave it an explosive swing forwards, Kettlebell hard-style. I did that the rest of the way, put it back on the tailboard, and hung my head in shame at my pathetic performance.

I knew in my heart it wasn’t good enough to pass, but I didn’t receive confirmation until a few days later. Thanks but no thanks, and there went one more opportunity for me to fulfill a dream two years in the making. I wasn't crushed, but disappointed that again, I let myself down.

So that is my Surrey Fire story. I’m working on the blog entry for my North Shore application, which will come shortly. I’ll leave more narration for that entry, but right now, it’s time for me to get back to training.

Until next time,

TD

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Why do people look at me funny when I train in the gym....?

I tend to go to the gym during the off-peak hours, when there aren't a lot of members around or classes in session. Although I rarely use the weight equipment, I sometimes use a few things like the squat rack, barbells, or cable station. But I do like an empty studio, either to practice hula or to lay out some nutbar circuit. I also use the hallway so I don't, uh, damage the studio floors with my KBs, tractor tire, sandbag slams, etc. Today was no exception - here's what I set up:

Tire station: Flips, pulls; drags
Medium Sandbag 65lbs): Shoulder cleans; Zercher Squats
Light Sandbag (37 lbs): Burpee snatches
Vertical Hose Pull (using squat rack): various rope handling techniques
6', 3" Sloshpipe: Ladder cleans & O/H walks; forward walking lunges; walking presses

Basically, I just did SOMETHING at each station. I didn't have a set routine, just a general idea of what I wanted to do as I moved through each station, but I kept the flow. I certainly did get a lot of strange looks, but as we say, f**k 'em! Yeah, I know my stuff is more fun than curls. My workout was short, intense, and functional, not to mention entertaining!

Questions? Comments? Hit me up!

trish

Friday, April 10, 2009

Training Tidbits

Wow, time flies when you ignore your blog. My apologies for another lengthy delay in scribing! I've just been pondering different options I have for training as I hurry up and wait for fire dept recruitment and application processes to move along. As such, it has been difficult to plan my sports and training - so many choices! Yes, we're entering volleyball pre-season, and I wanted to be able to hold my own before embarrassing myself on court #4 at Kits Beach! I was also looking at returning to the mats and getting back into judo... not to mention kayaking, climbing, and hiking. Too much pondering, not enough action. Ever happened to you? Sometime you just gotta say f**k it, and do something. So here's what I did over the last 3 days:

Wed April 8: Kits Beach Blast

With minimal equipment, I mosied on down to Kits Beach for a quick session on a cool, overcast day. I grabbed a my 10lb sledgehammer & fire gloves, a 16kg kettlebell, and my TRX Force Trainer. I set up a simple 3-station circuit, and came up with a flexible program.
  • 10 L / 10 R: Sledgehammer swings (Overhead OR horizontal forcible entry style OR
  • 10 L / 10 R: Kettlebell Snatches OR Thrusters OR Diagonal Cleans
  • 10 L / 10 R: TRX 1-arm pushups; 1-arm side rows; contra-lateral & ipsilateral pistols
I ended up doing mostly overhead sledgehammer swings since there was a homeless person sleeping beside my "usual" log for horizontal sledgehammer swings and Kaiser smashes. Then I cycled through various exercises for about 5 rounds. Here's the setup:


Thursday April 9: Quick & Dirty Double KB sequence

I decided to go to the gym because I wanted to warm up with an hour of hula practice before digging in to a Q&D (quick & dirty) KB workout. So after I danced, I brought out 2 x 12kg KBs and took over the floor outside the studio:
  • 10 closed-stance double front squats
  • Bear crawl 15 - 20 paces
  • 10 Renegade Rows
  • Bear Crawl 15 - 20 paces
  • - opposite direction -
  • Double Burpee Cleans
  • Walking alternating presses
  • 10 Alternating cleans
  • Walking alternating presses
I only had time to do that sequence twice, but it was still a fun time!

Friday April 10: Cambie Bridge Stairs (10 sets)
  • This one is too simple: Run from my condo in Yaletown, around the False Creek Seawall to the south side of the Cambie Street Bridge stairs, and do 10 sets non-stop. Continue over the Cambie Bridge to the north side, then run home. Even better when done with a friend for motivation... thanks Boo:-)!
I'm off to Vancouver Island this weekend, for some R&R with family and friends. Standard in my truck fitness toolbox:
  • One each of 8-12-16 kg kettlebells
  • 10lb sledgehammer & fire gloves
  • TRX Force Training Kit
  • Lebert Buddy System
  • Various resistance Ripcords tubing
  • Beach Volleyball
  • 2 x footballs (mini & reg size)
  • Basketball
  • Baseball & Glove
  • Skipping Rope
I'm sure there's other stuff I've forgotten about that are at the bottom of the box, and I have no idea what kind of workouts I'll be getting in, but I have no excuses! Have a Happy Easter!

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Kauai Getaway

I seem to have lost my focus for my blog, but I’m trying to get back on track. A week of forced rest in Hawaii has helped, albeit not at all in the ways that I was anticipating!

What I was hoping for in Kauai was some kind of emotional release from the demons that have followed me for the better part of a decade. From the deaths of friends, my mother, my marriage, my careers, my sense of self… I put DEALING WITH IT aside in favour of keeping busy, taking on multiple projects, pushing myself physically, mentally, and emotionally to higher limits, yet never reaching the finish line. Like there ever IS a finish line. At any rate, I hoped to find some solitude and time to reflect while on vacation, but, well, I guess it wasn’t meant to be this time around.

My trip to Kauai was shared with friends and family. My aunt, uncle, cousin, brother, and I in one resort, and 2 VPD buddies staying at another resort close by. It was fun sharing new sights and sounds with these familiar faces, and a great chance to know each other in circumstances other than “the usual”, but I really needed to put myself in solitary confinement. Things didn’t start out great, not because of the company, but for the food poisoning I got the first day. I spent the next 36 hours alternately barfing my guts in the toilet, hobbling from furniture to wall trying not to fall over, or crashed in bed, oblivious to the world. Or at least the tropical paradise beckoning outside my door.

An endangered Hawaiian Monk Seal, lounging around on Po'ipu Beach.
This was pretty much ME the first two and a half days in Kauai...
minus the beach, ocean, and sun.

I had never been so sick in my life. I’ve never slept so much, or eaten so little. But for the greatest ab exercises, look no further than the humble heaving puke. I was so dehydrated I actually had eyelids. And I’m not even trying to be funny! I was so weak, I couldn’t sit up long enough to have an MSN conversation without laying my head down on the table. Everything ached, and when I finally had enough strength to stand up on my own, I knew I couldn’t do the stuff I had planned. I brought my TRX Force Kit and had hoped to film some cool vids on the beach; had my portable iPod speakers ready to rock the hula, and couldn’t wait to body surf in the open ocean. I LOVE ocean swimming. But the few times I got to the beach, I knew I could have very easily overestimated my strength in the water and the last thing I wanted was to have to be rescued. How embarrassing would THAT be?















So I appreciated the little things, met some great people, schmoozed at the firehouse and fire/rescue lifeguard stations (got a couple of shirts ;-)! and relaxed as much as I could. I didn’t feel the same connection to Kauai as I do Maui; I am drawn to Maui like I belong there. But Kauai has it’s own energy, and one day I’ll go back under healthier circumstances to really appreciate its beauty.

Wailua Falls

So here I am, back in Van, rested and more relaxed to live life at a normal pace. Although I didn’t have the epiphany I was looking for, what I did get was the realization that my search for a personal “moment of clarity”, like happiness, is a journey, not a destination (to quote that eye-rolling cliché, sorry but true). Those emotional a-ha moments are spread throughout my life, but I guess along the way I’ve kept myself too busy to notice them – or I’ve blatantly eschewed them. Not anymore. I’ll leave those big Hollywood-style moments where they belong – in the movies.

A pocket of sun in between bouts of pouring rain, gusty wind, flying sand, fluffy clouds...
all within 10 minutes!

Friday, February 6, 2009

Why Do I Do This To Myself? Reflections...

2009/02/06

Well, it's been a month since THAT day, and all I can say is that I have been overwhelmed with support and good wishes for my next adventure, wherever it may be. I am constantly amazed at how much faith others have in ME... and feel so blessed to have those people in my life. As someone who is often the "giver" of encouragement and positive affirmations for clients, colleagues, or friends, I'm admittedly unaccustomed to being the "receiver" of the same.

Although I try to maintain a healthy diet of optimism in life, I sometimes wonder what is my purpose on this planet. I have accomplished some pretty amazing things, have had incredible experiences on career and personal levels, and truly do look forward to the next adventure life has in store for me, but the reality is sometimes I just wonder "why"? Is it that really, I’m only meant to take the journey, never reach the destination (or it just be a stopover), and keep inspiring others to set, reach, attain, and repeat when it comes to the game of goal-setting?

Why am I blessed to be given so many opportunities in life, only to find I've not used them properly? People are amazed that I have in a matter of 10 years been a police officer, a journalist, PR & communications consultant, fitness trainer, owner of an all-natural bodycare line, career firefighter... my resume is pretty jam-packed, and I know the people who tell me I should become a paramedic are actually serious! But in the broader sense beyond my CV, why is it that I choose these incredibly lofty goals, throw my heart into achieving them, then… Really, it wasn’t enough to set a goal of becoming a firefighter. I guess I should have specified I’d like to be one for more than three months!

I’ve wracked my brain psychoanalyzing myself. Why am I drawn to physically demanding, mentally challenging, and emotionally draining professions? I’m not trying to prove anything, to anyone. It just so happens the things I like to do are typically found in male-dominated professions. Before deciding on a career in firefighting, my other consideration was to join the Army, Direct Entry Officer. Yes, seriously. The boys at the Regiment still wonder why I’m not in fatigues. Still, the fact remains that I’m much more at home with a bunch of loud and brash Army brats, cops, or bucketheads than I am pretending to be interested in matching curtains, silverware, or matching shoes and handbags whilst passing idle gossip around the office water cooler. I so could not live in the land of Dilbert or Office Space. “Anyone theen my red thtapler??” I even prefer Men's Health to Women's Health magazine... and not just for the pictures! But seriously, Women's Health has 5lb dumbbells and yoga mats... while Men's Health has kettlebells, tractor tires, and Marine Corps challenges. Which do you think is more my style?

I will continue to reach for my goal in becoming a career firefighter, and will not stop until all doors are closed. Then, and not for the purposes of manual or hydraulic ventilation, I will start to open other doors. Maybe some windows, too. I'm not a quitter, but I'd be hard pressed to find a more difficult profession to break into. But at the same time, I need to be realistic. Sure, I certainly don't fit any mold of what you think a firefighter should look like, but I am the sum of many talented parts. I just hope to get a chance to prove it.

TD

Thursday, January 8, 2009

The fire's out for now... but the embers are still hot

Honoured readers,

I want to thank you for the support you've shown for me this past year as I faced obstacle over obstacle, challenge after challenge, and met them all with courage, thanks to the faith you've all had in me. My dream was achieved last Fall when I was hired by Abbotsford Fire Rescue Service, in what at the time seemed such an distant goal... as a career firefighter!

What a fantastic journey! I learned so much about myself, and even more about the at-times foreign aspects of a career where I had no trades background or practical fire experience, save for burning food in the kitchen and setting off many a smoke alarm... sigh... But inexperience aside, I met an amazing group of people. My classmates, my Training Officers, my fellow firefighters.... even the great administrative staff for the city of Abbotsford.

During my 9 weeks of training, I studied like a madman, marched/drilled, cleaned, did PE, HUNDREDS of punishment pushups, rolled infinite amounts of hose, learned about building construction, tools, fire streams, hose lays and deploys, trucks and equipment, SCBA and PPE (our Darth-Vader-like breathing apparatus and oven-mitt-like turnout gear)... set up hoselines and ladders; advanced hoseline UP ladders; humped hose every which way; navigated confined spaces; caught hydrants; I got to run up and down, up and down, up and down, repeat-repeat-repeat the 6-storey stairs tower, and even carried big guys to safety :-)... I ascended up and rappelled down the Fire Tower; built tons of mechanical advantages for technical high angle rope rescue; learned about wildland firefighting; got to cut up cars with the Jaws of Life; dike, dam, and divert at Hazardous Materials training and wear a giant Level A marshmallow suit... I learned HEMP-LOC-AVPU-DABC-PQRST and more in First Responder training (did you know there are no band-aids on a fire truck?)... I can tear apart and put back together a chain saw, vent saw, K-12 rotary saw and Sawzall.... not mention make a lot of big holes in otherwise solid objects with the above-mentioned power tools, but also perform forcible entry with a good old-fashioned axe and Halligan.

And of course, I got to put out fires. There is nothing that compares to the thrill of being in the same heat-infused room alongside a raging inferno, and having the presence of mind NOT to run out screaming, but to KNOW you are in control and will put it out safely. Wow. "Hot" doesn't even begin to describe the feeling of being completely enveloped with smoke and flames all around you, while wearing the heavy gear designed to keep us safe.

Then they put us on the floor. Hoooo-wheeee!!! Out of the classroom, into a Hall, onto the trucks!! I was assigned to Engine 1, Hall 1, C-platoon. The main hall. I didn't care where I went, really. I didn't care if all I did was make coffee and do dishes. I would do it proudly as part of my duties as the newest probie in the AFRS. My crew was awesome, what can I say. They made me feel at home right away. They even played jokes on me. BTW, FYI, we don't have night-vision goggles at the AFRS. In case anyone asks. But they helped me train, they took me under their wing, and pretended to like the artisan coffee I brought in. Although we didn't get any big calls, boy, what a rush, that first time going Code 3 (lights and siren), jumping into the gear, wondering what we were going to get when we got there. More often than not, it was a false alarm, burned toast, or an old MVA rollover that had already been looked after by crews earlier on in the day. Or, Rescue 1, Engine 6 or Engine 2 stole it from us. Hmphff!! During our down time, we trained, whether it be FR scenarios, hose stuff, or going over the tools and truck piece by piece. Despite the hour long commute, I eagerly looked forward to going to work every shift.

At the 3-month probationary evaluations last Saturday, my journey with the AFRS drew to a close. I performed all of the required duties successfully, with confidence and ease, but part of my turnout gear was not on properly and so some tasks were deemed unsuccessful. According to AFRS Operating Guidelines, less that 100% during these evaluations means automatic dismissal, regardless of how seemingly insignificant the mistake. I was let go on Tuesday Jan 6... no second chance.

The meeting with HR went well, and the gal told me how they agonized over the meeting, but the OG's are black and white. She did ask, if I was interested, if I would put forth my name and apply as Fire Inspector when the position is posted after the city-wide hiring freeze, well, thawed out. She said this, with the blessing of the Deputy Chief of Training, is an acknowledgment that I am still a strong candidate for my good attitude, character, personality, work ethic, and integrity... but the as the technical aspects of the probationary period were not met, I am unable to continue my journey as an AFRS firefighter. I told her I would consider the position, but will continue to pursue firefighting with other departments as positions open and recruitment begins. When a door closes, another opens, and I hope that with all that I've learned with the AFRS, the next door will be the one I was meant to walk through all along.

As I say to many of my fitness training clients when their policing dreams take an unexpected turn, things happen for a reason. Perhaps it doesn't make sense at that moment, but I often turn to the Serenity Prayer in times such as this. "God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference." I kept this in mind as I thanked the Chief, HR, and the Union for giving me the opportunity to develop my strengths and discover my weaknesses as a firefighter, and that I would take this experience and learn from it. To hold my head high with courage and grace is all I can ask of myself, hoping I tried my best, knowing I could have done better, while trying to have no regrets. But it's hard... and the hardest part for me I think is the tangible disappointment. In myself, for others that have supported me, for those that trained me and worked alongside me. All I can think to say is I'm sorry.

This post was almost as hard to write as the one about my mom. But I know however much it hurt to write, that post helped some people, and I'm hoping this one will too. Share your thoughts, either here or e-mail me at fire@code5fitness.com, wish me luck on my next endeavour, or just come to a kettlebell class this weekend and sweat it out the old-fashioned way. You know I will ;-).

Success is never final. Failure is never fatal. It is courage that counts.

Trish

aka: Donger
aka: T to the D

aka: Doug
aka: Kenney