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!