Two Minutes!

March 23, 2013 (7:02 P.M.)

So I have been practicing holding my breath for more than a month now. Coming in, my breath-holding record was an embarrassing 47 seconds; that was the time I clocked in during my first week here. It's been a running joke with all my friends over the years and here in South Africa, it’s no different. I’ve been told on countless occasions how even “so-and-so” can hold their breath for at least “this amount of time.’

I even tried the free diving course in February. It did improve my time to roughly a minute and a half, but it was still nowhere near my goal of two minutes. I just couldn't seem to get past that barrier of the double minute.

The instructor told me it was all mental and that to achieve my goal, I had to get past my fear of not breathing. He said holding your breath goes against one of the very basic urges we have as human beings, but the fact is, when your brain starts telling you to breathe and the chest convulsions start appearing, you really have two thirds left of your oxygen left. When that first urge to breathe starts, you know you're really only at the 1/3 mark.

Even with this knowledge, I couldn’t do it. It was a lot easier said than done. When I would get the urge, I would know I still had plenty of oxygen left, but still couldn’t seem to get past it. Fighting the convulsions was one of the hardest things I'd ever done.

Well all that changed when I put on my iPod this Wednesday and threw on Don Mclean's, American Pie. I decided I needed to distract myself from myself and the best way to do that would be to put on a slow, catchy and familiar song. Plus I wanted the slow to be rather lengthy. American Pie qualified on all accounts.

I followed the breathing exercises down to the last instruction. I lay down, relaxed myself the best I could and tried to focus my mind on Mclean's lyrics; anything to help focus on the oxygen deprivation feeling.

When holding my breath in the past, I would normally hit my convulsions around 45 seconds and from then on had to fight for every second. Everyone else around me seemed to be in the “bliss” stage of holding their breath until at least a minute and a half into the process while I was just fighting to hit that mark at all.

For this breath particular breath, I didn’t hit my first convulsion until one minute and 15 seconds in. It was by far the most comfortable I’d ever been as far as holding my breath. When that first convulsion hit me, I focused the feeling into the center of my chest and relaxed. Slowing my heart rate was a huge “mountain to climb,” but that’s what Mclean was there for. Instead of focusing on the crushing feeling to breathe, I just centered my thoughts toward the lyrics.

I had no idea what my time was currently at, but I knew it was my furthest so far. I knew I was entering unknown territory and I was excited. I wanted to hit my goal and I knew this was going to be my first real chance.

When I hit my second real convulsion, I started to panic; just as I always do but the instructor was right there by my side, as if expecting it. He told me how close I was and I needed to fight it.

“You’re only 30 seconds away. You can do this. You still have plenty of oxygen left. Fight this.”

I closed my eyes again and tried to escape. The feeling to breathe was now pulsating through my entire body. I wanted to breathe more than I ever wanted to breathe in my life, but at the same time, I wanted to reach my goal.

“Only 15 more seconds. Stick with this T.J. You’re almost there. Fight this.”

My entire face felt as though it were on fire. The convulsions were now beating harder and faster. I knew I was supposed to be relaxing; conserving oxygen, but my entire body was tense. I just wanted the whole thing to be over.

“Five more seconds! You can make it.”

With that last line, I realized I could make it. I was there. My body seemed to realize the struggle was over. I made it to my goal. A huge smile came across my face as I looked at him and realized I was now holding my breath into the two-minute zone. I don’t know if I could have made it longer, but I figured that was good enough for today. As I released the tension and took in that much-needed breathe of air, my instructor calmly walked over to the board and wrote 2 minutes and 8 seconds next to my name. It was one of the most satisfying experiences I’d ever had. I worked at reaching this goal for more than a month and I finally did it. Never before had I ever considered it possible to reach two minutes, but there it was on the board as proof.

I’m proud to say I have been regularly hitting my two-minute mark with each class. Today will be our pool session and I’m hoping to set another personal record. Maybe with enough practice, I could hit three minutes?