* Image from the BBC
Five one-hundredths of a second doesn’t even exist to me. I really have no comprehension of what that measure of time even means. But try telling that to Michael Phelps. Better yet, try telling that to South Africa’s Chad le Clos. Because that was the exact amount of time it took to out-touch the world’s most decorated swimmer and win Gold in the Men’s 200 Meter Butterfly. An imperceptible amount of time to most was the difference as big as the Grand Canyon to a man who had just beaten his self-admited idol. But that’s not really what this particular story is all about. Although I love a good underdog story. It’s about what Michael Phelps said later about the race.
In an interview with NBC’s Bob Costas after the race Phelps said; “It’s probably the finishes I’ve done in work-out that ended up coming out here. You know, there were times where I’d go kinda slow into the wall in work-out or kinda touch kinda lazy, and it showed.” If you’re interested the entire interview can be seen here. I give kudos to Phelps to taking ownership of what he classifies himself as a lazy performance or perhaps taking something for granted. Something that he had done hundreds, probably thousands of times in practice, came out on the biggest stage in the world and cost him, for the moment anyway, his record-breaking 19th Olympic medal. If you’ve read my rants for any length of time you may know where I’m heading with this.
Pulling hose is pretty boring. I get it. But it doesn’t have to be. Remember when you were a kid and you’d make up scenarios? Like 2 out, bottom of the ninth, bases loaded and you’re up to bat with your team down by three? Why can’t you do that with your hose drill? You’re first-due, on the knob, it’s three A.M. and the fire’s on the second floor with no one standing outside. The truck is right behind you and you have to secure the stairway and get into the hall. GO! Would five one-hundredths matter? Realistically? Probably not. Would five seconds? Ten? A minute? Anything that you can do now, on the training ground to make yourself more proficient, more smooth, more complete will pay off on the bigger stage. Like Mr. and Mrs. Smith’s house at 3 A.M.
Around the Chicago suburbs we do a drill called the “Paxton Drill.” It is in honor of the Paxton Hotel fire that occurred in Chicago, Illinois on March 16, 1993. The Paxton Hotel was a four story single room occupancy hotel in which most residents made their homes on a permanent or semi-permanent basis. When the Still Alarm was dispatched for light smoke it took initial arriving companies less than one minute after arrival to begin screaming for a Still and Box Alarm and an EMS Plan 1 for a heavy fire with numerous people trapped. The late Chief Ray Hoff was then Captain of Truck 10 and was the first-arriving Truck officer. He and his crew immediately began throwing ladders to as many windows as possible rescuing the people trapped by smoke and the advancing fire. Once those rescues were made they would roll the ladders into new positions or strip the other on scene apparatus of their ladders. Most firefighters on scene that night operated on their own, at least initially. The “Paxton Drill” times a crew to see how fast every ladder on the rig can be deployed to designated windows on a building or training tower. Can it be kind of boring? Maybe. Can it be monotonous? Perhaps. Did it pay off for the members of Truck 10 and the other units that operated at 1432 N. LaSalle that night? Ask the 100 people that were rescued by the CFD, most over ground ladders. Did time matter? The next time you do a ladder drill wait for a crew who is motivationally challenged and hold your breath as soon as they begin the task of removing the ladder and see if you can hold it until it would be in a position to actually effect a rescue. Then you tell me.
In many ways the world of sports is parallel to the profession of firefighting. I think Michael Phelps’ words are very apropos to us. We cannot expect to continuously practice at half-speed with no sense of purpose and then think that we will just be able to “turn it on” when it really counts. It just doesn’t work that way. Five one-hundredths of a second. About the amount of time of the last agonal breath of a victim in a smoke filled bedroom at 3 A.M.
Train with purpose.