Ready to hold your breath?

A maximal breath hold doesn’t start the moment you hold you breath. It usually starts at least day in advance to give yourself time to mentally prepare, fast from eating to slow down your metabolism, and start getting into a calm state of mind.

In some sense it starts even earlier. Way earlier. The physical adaptations that are required to expand your lungs (also known as a gas tank) to take in more oxygen (to increase mileage) take months, if not years. Your ability to tolerate high carbon dioxide and low oxygen levels will also improve over time with training.

We live in a world of constant distractions and stimuli. The idea of laying still and doing nothing seems surprisingly foreign and uncomfortable to many. Being comfortable spending time with yourself is non-negotiable. You’re about to go on a long road trip without any form of entertainment to keep you distracted.

You’ve done many breath holds in preparation of this one. You know that you are safe. Even if this the brakes stop working and you end up crashing the car, you know that you’ll be completely fine. You know that because you’ve been there before. Sure, it’s sometimes doesn’t feel great to blackout, but you know that your life’s not in danger.

A huge aspect of this comes down your safety buddy, the person who’s watching over you. It feels like your life is in their hands (maybe because it is!). Competitive breath holding is a team sport, and there’s no way you’ll be able to progress or perform well without a safety you have absolute confidence in.

• Elyas is extremely alert and focused, keeping a close eye on the time and checking in with me to make sure I’m still responsive. Felt very fortunate to have someone like him by my side.

You have about 45 minutes before you’re going to start your maximal breath hold. You’re here at the pool early to get ready by floating on the surface as comfortably as possible. Relaxing every part of your body. Your mind quiets as your muscles release any lingering tension.You mentally scan up and down your body until you feel a light tingling sensation all over. Your mind has entered a meditative state, and your body feels like it’s peacefully floating through space somewhere in distant galaxy full of bright stars and colorful planets.

You go through a series of easy, warmup breath holds to activate your mammalian dive reflex. After your last warmup, it’s now time to relax. Deeply.

Your last inhale starts from the lower part of your lungs, pushing your belly outwards. As you continue, your rib cage and chest expand outwards. Some people might stop here, but not you. You begin ‘packing’, swallowing mouthfuls of air into your lungs, to store an additional 20-30% of air. After about 45 packs, you relax your upper body to make space for a few more gulps of air to be pressed into your lungs. You’re now well equipped to immerse your face into water, and go on your breathless journey.

The sudden intake of this huge amount of air feels like taking a light hit from a bong (not that I know what that would feel like, of course). This makes it easier to relax and keep floating through the endless, ever-expanding universe you’re now experiencing.

The first two minutes feel blissful, peaceful, quiet. You’re in a happy place. You could stay here forever. But as oxygen levels gradually decrease, your carbon dioxide levels are increasing. You begin to feel that as a slight unease. Your environment is becoming hostile. You used to call it discomfort, but with practice, you’ve become adept at finding deeper levels of comfort as you enter this next phase of the journey.

You begin to experience some very light contractions, with 15-20 seconds in between. These are involuntary movements of your intercostals, physically trying to pull oxygen inwards. You realize that this subconscious reflex has been hardwired into your biological system, and it’s there for a reason, but that doesn’t concern you one bit. Not today at least. You still have a long way to go. You’re just about half way there.

With every contraction, you relax deeper and deeper into your meditative state. The contractions begin to become more severe, and more frequent. Your physical body is turning against you. Not only that, your mind is beginning to do so as well.

Your mind is going to try to get you to stop. It’s not your intellectual mind that’s speaking here, because that one has been working towards an 8 minute breath hold for almost two years now. It’s a different part of your brain … the primal part concerned primarily with your survival. It’s going to start playing tricks on you. Today just isn’t your day. Why are you doing this? Give up, c’mon, just take a breath and you’ll feel much better. You find yourself face to face with your worst enemy.

• Intercostal contractions towards the end of a breath hold.

You’ve been here many times before, so you know, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is just a trap. You continue on your path, because you there’s still fuel in the tank. There’s still untapped potential.

After another minute or two, you start to tread carefully. You’re nearing the most critical part of the journey. This is where you can make it or break it. It’s a fine balance. You want to extract as much potential as possible, but you also don’t want your oxygen levels to get too low, because then you might blackout. You’ve learnt from past mistakes when you’ve pushed too far.

• Slightly over the limit! I have absolutely no recollection of what happened between 00:13 and 0:53. I was left wondering what in the world just happened. I could tell by the way people were looking at me that it probably hadn’t gone well.

Once again, you’ve been here before, and you know your body well enough to know when you’re within seconds of your limit. You may feel a numbing, tingling sensation permeate your arms, or an unusual sudden sensation of comfort. It’s time.

You lift your head and take a few strong hook breaths to ensure a strong recovery. Your intensely depleted oxygen levels begin to rise, thanks to air that haven’t tasted this good in a while.

Welcome back. I hope you enjoyed the journey! That was breathless (no pun intended).