I'll Hof and I'll puff and freeze my nuts off
Read on for my weekly Wim Hof blog published for a health and wellbeing publication
Wim Hof 1 - can deep breathing and freezing my nuts off be the answer?
Head-butting the printer at work was the catalyst for change
Let’s be clear about this. I’m not a health guru, I don’t drink blended wheat grass, I barely know a downward dog from my own cocker spaniel – and I certainly couldn’t locate one of my chakras, let alone balance it.
Recently I became as middle-aged as it’s possible to be (50 if you were wondering). Felt like a good time to stop and take stock. Stop and stock revealed a few things: stuff hurts a lot more when I get out of bed in the morning; things like reports and deadlines wake me up in a sweat at 2am; I eat and drink too many things that taste good but offer little nutrition; for no apparent reason my heart beats faster than it should in the middle of the night and I’d often wake wheezing and grappling for an inhaler. I told you, I’m not a health guru.
So as all this angst and anxiety increasingly took root on a daily – more nightly – basis, I began searching for ways to stop it, or at least slow it in its tracks. I started with books. I bought lots of books with titles like: ‘Own the Day’ ‘Finding Peace in a Frantic World’ and ‘Letting Go’.
I asked Mr Google for advice. The choices were endless. I could meditate, chant, study magic, build a sweat lodge, eat only carrots, eat nothing, go to yoga, go to hot yoga, go on a silent retreat, wear a robe to work, try colonic irrigation, try shiatsu, scream loudly at the moon, try psychedelics, hang upside down, go back to university or join a jazzercize class.
Overwhelmed and stressed out by all the books piling up, and all the choices on offer to become less stressed, one sleepless night I tuned into a podcast and heard a man called Wim Hoff talking about the importance of breathing. Not just the usual shallow breathing we all do to carry on living. He was describing – very bluntly in his Dutch accent – the Wim Hoff method of breathing. Deep, rhythmic breathing interspersed with intervals of no breathing at all – sometimes alarmingly long periods of no breathing. On top of this he suggested combining his breathing technique with cold water immersion. If I did both, he assured it would change my life, as it changed his.
So, the next morning I gave it a go. And things began to change.
Tune in next week if you want to know what happened. Let me assure you. Stuff happened. Stuff really happened.
Wim Hof 2 - Thoughts in the back of the ambulance
Now, I’m back again to tell you about a breathing method, a technique, that I think will change your life – as it did mine. But in this strange time where so many colleagues are ‘opening up’ and being candid about their work and home lives, I felt it was only fair to be absolutely honest and open about why I really had to find a technique, or two, to deal with the challenges life throws at us.
You see, in my opinion of course, there are at either end of the spectrum two distinct ways of getting through the working day – or any other day come to that.
At one end there’s the always being in control way, calm and unflappable, shifting gears effortlessly to deal with the rigours of work. At the other there’s the panicking way, always catching up, never feeling in control, busy but not effective, a feeling of constant threat and dread hanging over you.
Let’s be honest, most of us exist somewhere in between. But occasionally it tips towards the latter. You may not notice it at first, like that first trip on a gentle incline, then the bigger fall as the slope increases, then, gathering speed, tumbling, and before you know it you are bouncing headfirst down the unforgiving granite face of a mountain.
And that’s where I was. Except I wasn’t on a mountain. I was pacing through the office between meetings with a strange tingling sensation running down my left arm – running late – trying to work out how I was going to travel to Glasgow, Manchester and Cardiff over the next three days, get back to London for a conference and still be at my son’s Cub talent show on Thursday night. Then, things get a bit vague. I remember approaching a colleague, I vaguely remember saying “I feel a bit weird” but before I got to the ‘d’ of ‘weird’ I proceeded to tip forward and face-plant into a printer.
In the back of the ambulance a sweet-voiced paramedic asks me my name. I’m not very good at quizzes but I usually get this one right. I failed. Over the next 24 hours I was transferred to a stroke unit, had an MRI to check my brain, rigged up to a heart monitor, blood tests, urine tests, you name it, it was tested. And yes, the NHS is amazing.
And the diagnosis? Nothing. Absolutely nothing wrong with me. With my long-suffering wife beside me, the doctor described a type migraine that mimics a stroke, that I could potentially have suffered. He then handed me some leaflets. One on migraines and one on how to deal with stress and anxiety. Stress and anxiety? No, No No, Not me. Can’t be me. I read the leaflets on the way home. It was me.
Oh, the Wim Hof breathing method. Sorry, you’ll have to wait for next week because I’m over the wordcount. But I thought it was worth sharing just how bad things did get. And it was quite bad, none of us should be headbutting printers at work, and something had to change.
Until next time - keep breathing
Wim Hof 3 - Like a hairy pin cushion in y-fronts
Ok, it’s time to explain what my first foray into the benefits of deep breathing, including periods of not breathing, were like, and the impact of ice cold water immersion. I might hold on the latter. I find people are generally engaged with me when I talk about the benefits of breathing techniques, but I seem to lose them when I suggest ice baths or showering under the hosepipe in the garden – I can’t think why.
As you know - if you’ve read the previous two chapters - the uncomfortable grip of stress and anxiety had slipped from poor sleep patterns and slightly increased – ok very increased – heart rates at 2am, to hospitalisation, and a realisation, that I had to take action.
My advice is not to wait that long.
For me, the very first step in taking action started in a small room above a chemist a few days after I was told I hadn’t suffered a stroke, and, my collapse was more than likely stress related. Thin needles were being plunged into my face, my scalp, my stomach and feet. “You’re nothing special,” said the acupuncturist before she began puncturing me. This is true. “You are a typical middle-aged man” she added. This is also true.
After this rather abrupt opening, she put on some soothing music and left me looking like a hairy pin cushion in Y-fronts for about 30 minutes. I didn’t know what to expect. I certainly did not expect to slip into a wonderfully relaxed nap, my head filled with visions of deciduous woodlands bathed under a purple sun.
I was up for anything.
The following morning, I woke early. I logged onto my Wim Hof breathing app. I settled down on the living room floor and started following Wim’s instructions - in that distinctive Dutch accent that would become so familiar to me - to follow him on three rounds of 30 deep inhalations. The advice is not to do this while driving, swimming, soaking in the bath or standing close to a steep cliff. I quickly saw why. Within 10 or 15 deep, almost exaggerated inhalations, followed by a gentle exhale (without fully emptying the lungs) I felt a little dizzy and disconnected. At the end of the first 30 breaths, Wim told me to exhale and then hold my breath ‘out’ for as long as I felt comfortable.
This, as I’ll explain later, is when the body does some really clever adaptations that begin to change you incrementally and fundamentally. It’s an odd sensation and counterintuitive to how, if ever, you choose to hold your breath. After a minute my face felt like it was fizzing and my arms and legs felt cold. Apparently this is normal. On the second round these sensations increased quite dramatically, and if I’m honest, slightly disturbingly. But not more disturbing than a nighttime anxiety attack, so I was prepared to breath on.
At the end of the third round I held my empty lungs for just over two minutes. Then, when I did fully inhale - and hold for the advised 15 seconds - I saw an array of colours shooting across my closed eyes and felt a glow and reverberation through my body that was loud and nothing short of exhilarating and yet entirely calming.
It was a cold morning. But what the hell, I was either committing to this or I wasn’t. So, clutching towel I passed my bemused looking son, opened the backdoor and stepped into the garden. I grabbed the hosepipe, turned on the tap, held the nozzle over my head, took a deep breath as the water gurgled through the pipe and awaited the moment when the freezing water would strike. This had better be worth it.
Tune in next time.
And keep breathing.
Wim Hof 4 - Caught naked by Amazon
I left you last time just as the water from the garden hosepipe was about burst out of the nozzle and dowse me in a freezing spray of life-affirming droplets. That’s what I thought would happen. The first time felt more life-alarming than life-affirming as I gasped for breath, hollered and called loudly to a distant god in somewhat blasphemous tones.
And why, you may ask, am I outside at 6.45AM on a cold morning, light frost on the ground, showering under the hosepipe when I have a perfectly good warm shower inside? Because Wim Hof told me if I combined his breathing technique with cold water immersion, my mind, body and spirit would be forever changed – and I was looking for some change – so I was either all-in, or not. I decided it was an all-in situation.
Let’s backtrack a little from this - about 30 minutes. During which time I’d carried out some of the basic yoga stretches the Hof method suggests to get into the right frame of mind for the breathing. It’s not imperative, but I find it does help. This was followed by three rounds of deep rhythmic breathing and breath holds.
So, what happens during these breathing sessions? As I’ve said before, I’m not a health guru, I can only go by the claims made, and through my own experience. It’s described as: “controlled hyperventilation or power breathing’. It not only increases the bloods alkalinity, the practice releases more energy, influencing the nervous system and changing various physiological responses. Apparently, while I’m doing this, I’m inducing a short-term stress response which leads to more resilience to stress. And if I combine the breathing with cold exposure techniques it will have profound affects on assisting my cells to ward off diseases while giving me more energy and vitality.
These are pretty big claims.
And only time will tell of course.
Ok – let me be totally honest with you here. I found the yoga stretches quite tough, I’m not as supple as I should be. The breathing was at times difficult and I struggled a bit to focus and keep composure. And the cold water shower on the patio (with my son looking through the kitchen window munching on his toast and a look on his face that suggested ‘how is he my dad?’) was shocking to a body that has sought comfort as its default setting, rather than shock treatment.
But it was early days on my ‘Wim Hof journey’ and here’s the thing: I left for work that day feeling as invigorated, alive and awake as I could remember. I also felt strangely in control, more disciplined, that sense that I was owning the day from sunrise. No dosing on the commute (for those of you who remember commuting), no need for coffee, sugar and a snack at 11am. And more significantly, no mid-afternoon lull. I felt awake. My senses felt more alive.
The question was: would I stick with it? Or would it be another fad idea – think diets that lasted a mere days (including the one that meant nothing but beans, pulses and seeds for 30 days (do not do this, you will not be able to leave the house), gym memberships that that went unused for months, clubs I joined and turned up once – the list goes on.
This time it would be different. And as it turned out – it really was worth sticking with.
Now, if you do happen to live somewhere where you can shower outside without offending people – trust me, I would offend – then go for it. Where we currently live, we have no neighbours. There’s a sense of freedom and exhilaration which is really quite intoxicating – or is that just me? Either way, always do it early, before the rest of the world has woken up.
Because if you don’t you may find yourself in an uncompromising position, under a hosepipe, just as the Amazon delivery chap walks round to the back gate to deliver another bag of Chia seeds (I know, I’m trying everything).
Either way it’s a bit embarrassing and no-one needs to see you like that.
Tune in next time to hear how the breathing developed and how life began to change.
And keep breathing.
Wim Hof 5 - Survival of the safest
Fear. Anxiety. Dread. Nothing new here. These have been intrinsic to being human since, well, since we were humans. Not that long ago – when you measure it against our planetary existence – it was useful to wake up in the night with our adrenalin pumping, with our heart racing, and our bodies poised for reaction. That’s because we lived in caves and sabre-toothed tigers were prowling nearby, poisonous spiders, scorpions and rampaging mammoths could strike at any moment. But here’s the thing: there are no more sabre-toothed tigers and unless you live somewhere more exotic than me, I would bet you are quite safe from poisonous spiders, scorpions and mammoths or any other type of mastodons.
Quite possibly that fear, dread and anxiety of your grand-parents times 50 or so (I’m not good at math) is the very reason you are here. Maybe it’s not survival of the fittest, but survival of the ‘most careful and fearful’, that explains why we are here. The bold and fearless were heading off across the frozen tundra or into the jungles for adventure and probably got eaten, while I like to think my wise ancestors were sitting in caves telling their offspring: “Don’t go out today, you’ll catch a chill, they don’t call this the Ice Age for nothing you know.”
Unfortunately, a lot of us still behave as if cats with big teeth are going to drag us screaming from our antelope quilts in the middle of the night. After all us modern humans, in my view, are merely apes with iPhones. We still wake at 2am, hearts racing, fear and adrenalin coursing through our veins, not to grab a spear and a flaming torch to see off an intruder, but because:
That report needs finishing
That bill needs paying
The car is still leaking oil
You still haven’t paid enough into that pension
Your beloved dog is getting old and will die soon
You forgot to put toilet roll on the Tesco ‘click and collect’ order
The list goes on for you, me and most people. Most of our fears are unfounded. Once the day starts, you can put them into perspective, but they take their toll. And because we don’t have to wake and fight, flee, grab our children and scramble to safety, we don’t get the chance to offload all this adrenalin, fear and angst – and as Wim Hof explains, this is a cause of inflammation throughout our bodies. Inflammation is very bad. It causes aches and pains, illness and fatigue – plus a whole host of other modern-day ailments that we could all do without. There’s a breathing technique for this, more on that later.
Now, I write this as a global pandemic is shaking the very foundations of our delicate civilization, which can only add to fear, dread, anxiety. And you are either seeing it as the end of the world, or something we are just going to have to accept, adapt, deal with and get through, and it will be okay – or, like me, you are somewhere between the two. I’m not ignoring the anxiety this is causing us, but until I bring you completely up-to-date with my Wim Hof breathing ‘journey’ and the changes it has brought to my life, much of what I write pre-dates this particular global pandemic.
But change did happen. It became apparent about three months into my daily breathing, cold water and yoga practice. For me, the benefits were clear from the first week – just in terms of feeling healthier, more alert, more in control – but it was a few months in when I really started to see the deeper benefits and changes taking place.
To start with I suddenly experienced unbroken sleep. The asthma inhalers that I used regularly remained untouched and in the draw. The fatigue I’d been feeling for way too long had gone. And the extra energy gave me the impetus to start exercising more. I’d also lost just under half-a-stone in weight. Again, without knowing the science, it seems that cold water immersion converts white fat into brown fat which supplies better more efficient energy to the body. Cravings for sweet treats, my appetite for carbs in the afternoon, seemed to have been curtailed. I read somewhere that it takes 66 days to form new habits. It’s like a tipping point and suddenly the prospect of returning to old entrenched behaviours was too awful to contemplate.
It was at this three-month point that I decided to raise the game, to see what the potential was for this breathing regime, to see if I could take it further, test myself a little more. Nothing silly of course – yet – I wasn’t planning to climb Everest in shorts or swim in the Arctic in a pair of speedos like Mr Hof, but even for this mild-mannered, middle aged man there was a suddenly air of adventure and optimism.
Tune in next time.
And keep breathing – deeply.
Wim Hof 6 - Relax! Nothing will eat you in the night
It’s February 2020. Very soon the world is going to change in ways none of us can believe. But right now, I’m, like most people and world leaders, unaware, unprepared and oblivious of the coming storm.
Because right now I’m on a vast beach on the north Norfolk coast facing a different storm. It’s cold. The wind actually hurts and exposed skin aches against the icy blasts coming off a slate grey sea that is still more than half-a-mile away in front of me.
This is an uncluttered place. My vision has little to focus on and yet so much to take in. Above, a vast grey sky that will soon pour rain and sleet, beneath me, and spreading as far as the eye can see, an endless beach. In the distance, sandwiched between these two colossal entities is a slate grey sea. That’s it. There is no-one else, except for a few seagulls who seem to be tumbling through the sky like large paper bags rather than flying.
February 2020 marks exactly 12 months since I started my daily yoga, Hof breathing and cold water immersion practice. This winter has been an entirely new experience. Not a single cold, not even a sniffle, not one bug over the whole winter. For some, that might not be significant, but for me that’s unheard of. But more significantly, I have not suffered once from the asthma symptoms that have plagued me since childhood. I’ve not used an inhaler once. And here’s another confession: in the last few years I have suffered from SAD (seasonal affective disorder). The gloom of dark, short days have taken their toll. But not this winter. Whatever has changed, that list of ailments and disorders – call them what you will – have not existed.
I’m here as a bit of a test. Here to see if the past 12 months of daily cold showers, occasional ice-cold baths, combined with breathing methods have increased my body’s resilience to cold temperatures. You see, Wim Hof is also known as the ‘iceman’ due to his ability to withstand cold water to extraordinary levels of duration. A study of Hof by professors at Wayne State University, during a controlled whole-body cold-temperature exposure, discovered some fascinating things.
The university team expected to see brain activations where the brain’s higher thermoregulatory centres are located, but instead they saw differences in the upper brainstem. This is an area associated with brain mechanisms for the control of sensory pain and is thought to implement this control through the bodies release of opioids and cannabinoids.
The study’s final report is full of very long sentences and long words like: “this mechanism might mediate the release of endogenous opioids/cannabinoids in both the periphery (via the descending pain/cold suppression pathway)…leading to a feeling of euphoria, anxiolysis (decreased anxiety) and a sense of well-being…”
Blimey!
Now, that all sounds quite complex and there are lots of big words there. All I know is that the breathing exercises combined with the cold showers and baths have had a radical effect on my mind and body. I just feel heaps better, more awake, and less stressed.
About 10 feet from the sea I sat on the sand and completed a round of deep breaths. As much to calm my nerves at the prospect of entering an increasingly angry looking sea and in an effort to prepare my body for the shock. Clothes left in a small pile (think Reginald Perrin for those of a certain age) I then entered the sea clad in swimming trunks. I won’t deny that a lot of the things I’ve put my body through in the last year – whether stretching my rigid body into a downward dog, or immersing myself in a freezing bathtub – have resulted in some, as my son would call, ‘fruity language’. And walking into the North Sea was no exception.
Thankfully there were only seagulls for company.
The waves smacked against my legs. Then my torso. I thought of my wife and son back in the cosy holiday cottage, eating hot toast by the wood burner, and I felt like crying. I held on. Instead of panting, I kept deep breathing. As the water hit my chest there was a moment where I wavered and considered myself done with this experiment, instead I flopped forward into an oncoming wave and began swimming – if you can call it that.
Let’s be clear, I’m not encouraging or advising anyone to do this. It’s your call, and as the advice always says: check with your doctor first. As I said in my first blog: I’m not a health guru, this is merely my attempt to take control of my health and wellbeing. But as my mother said: “Can’t you just try something a little more moderate?” Too late now. In those first few seconds of front-crawl/doggy-paddle it felt as if an icy hand was clasped around my heart and my body was in the throws of an all-consuming shock. But then it subsided. And soon I could not tell if I was freezing cold or burning hot. Caught somewhere between these two intense sensations I found a strange sense of calm and equilibrium. How long could I maintain this feeling? How long could I stay in the water? How far should I swim?
I can’t deny it, it was exhilarating and visceral – suddenly and unexpectedly enhanced by the creature that joined ne – unnerving at first – in that icy, frothy sea.
Tune in next time to see who it was, how, and where, I got out, and what impact this had on me.
And keep breathing.
Wim Hof 7 - The early bird catches his breath
How did I end up swimming in the North Sea in the middle of February? More to the point - why?
“Couldn’t you have found something a little more moderate?” asks my wife when I explain that it’s all part of my health and wellbeing drive.
I think it’s time for a recap.
Previous to this chilly, somewhat arctic dip, I’d suffered a bout of anxiety and depression that didn’t end well. What I realise now, is that I did not act soon enough when the evidence was there.
I wasn’t sleeping. I ignored that. I was tired all the time. Ignored it. I was having pangs of anxiety and panic attacks. Ignored. My heart was often racing for no reason. Just ignored. I was feeling stressed, dark, lonely. Ignored them all.
And then, as you know, for those that have read previous chapters, I keeled over at work and woke up in hospital. Hard to ignore that.
My advice is to not to wait that long. I would advise, if you are feeling any of those symptoms, to speak to someone: a doctor, a friend, sister, brother, lover, mum, teammate, colleague, counsellor - whoever it is, don’t wait. Talk. And while on the subject of advice, I would advise reading ‘Reasons to Stay Alive’ by Matt Haig, which I’d recommend whatever your current mood, philosophy or view of life is in the 21st century
Stress, anxiety, insomnia, depression - they tend to suck the joy out of life.
I had to find some balance. And after much searching for ways to cope and improve my health and wellbeing I stumbled across Wim Hof and decided to follow his breathing and cold water immersion techniques.
As you already know, it’s no exaggeration to say that it has changed my life, my health, my mind, my body. Undisciplined by nature I’ve discovered that - for me anyway - discipline is the key to getting fitter, healthier and to enjoy life. And for me, it needs to start in the morning.
It was not easy at first, but now, the alarm sounds an hour before the usual daily routine kicks in. It’s usually around 6am. I head downstairs, open up the Wim Hof app on my iPad and I follow his series of stretches before carrying out four rounds of Hof breathing. It’s not rocket science, it’s simply 30 deep inhalations and then, after the last exhale (really important to remember it’s on the exhale) to empty the lungs completely and hold on for as long as feels comfortable.
At first comfortable was about 30 seconds. Today, it’s anything up to 3 minutes. At that point - and you’ll know exactly when that is - simply take in a deep breath in and hold for 15 seconds, release slowly, and repeat.
Just the breathing alone has had a dramatic impact, and for me, on one of the words of the year - my ‘wellbeing’.
But Wim Hof doesn’t leave it there. He is convinced that to truly reap the benefits of the Wim Hof Method the practice should include a combination of breathing techniques, cold temperature immersion and commitment.
So, after the commitment of getting up and doing this, the stretches and the breathing, I head outside for a shower under the hosepipe - no matter what time of year. Or, if time, I take an iced bath.
I maintain that you have to find whatever it is that works for you. I’m sure many of you don’t need to do anything at all. If you’re already cruising through the day, sleeping soundly, unaffected by stress, anxiety, depression, just carry on and know that I envy you.
If not. Do something.
I’ve told a few friends and family about the Hof method and the response has ranged from “not doing it - sounds ridiculous” (publishable response) to “Changed my life - do it every day!” One friend, a former professional footballer, who is suffering all the aches and pains that follow that profession, sent me a picture of himself sat cross-legged in the snow in a pair of y-fronts last week.
The picture caption simply said: “Feel incredible.”
So that’s how and why I ended up swimming in the North Sea early on a freezing February morning in nothing but trunks. I’d gone past the shock point and was swimming parallel with the coast when a seal popped up about 10ft in front of me. I stopped, trod water, and for a few seconds this wild creature eyed me cautiously then slipped away effortlessly.
All the cold showers and baths and early morning breathing sessions were worth it for that fleeting moment with a seal in the frigid waters off the coast of Norfolk.
Keep breathing.
Further reading on cold water benefits:
Checkout the Wim Hof website:
Try the Wim Hof breathing method:
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