In dark and uncertain times, it’s a pleasure to find a book as unremittingly positive, and as (literally) energising as this one. Wim Hof is famous for his feats of extreme endurance, like running up Everest wearing nothing but a pair of shorts, climbing Kilimanjaro in record time, without the normal acclimatisation to avoid altitude sickness, and for sitting encased in ice for periods that would kill a lesser mortal. Not surprisingly, he is also known as the “Ice man”.
Wim Hof claims no special physiology. Medical tests confirm he is not a freak of nature, and he tells us anyone equipped with his methods can achieve the same thing. Moreover, his methods are simple, and they are not “secret”. Any search of the Internet will reveal them. They are based upon his own life experiences, and his researches of ancient eastern techniques. For example, there are stories of Tibetan monks who sit in the freezing cold, and dry out wet cloths upon their backs by the generation of internal heat. It’s a phenomenon that’s been documented, but has left researchers stumped. It’s that sort of thing, Wim has taken on board, honed it to its essentials, demystified it, and applied it to astonishing effect in his own life. While few of us would feel the need to emulate Wim Hofs feats of extreme endurance, the implications for general health and well-being are equally profound.
The method does not require years of seclusion in a Tibetan Monastery. Rather, it involves a daily regime of breathing exercises, followed by exposure to cold water – say a cold shower every morning. The book outlines the exercises, its applications, and some testimonies from satisfied practitioners, but in the main this is Wim Hof’s personal story, and writes like a force of nature, is inspirational, and comes across as infinitely compassionate. He speaks of his early childhood in Holland, and his drop-out culture youth, among communities of squatters. He speaks of adult tragedy, his love of family, and his mission, which is to pass on this same infectious passion for life.
But is he too good to be true? Inevitably, perhaps, many have thought so. Journalists have sought him out with the aim of exposing him, but have ended up becoming converts. His collaboration with various scientific institutions also adds rigour to his claims, and has further silenced cynical naysayers, though his feats still defy conventional wisdom on how the body works, and what it should be capable of.
The difficulty most of us have with any “method”, however, is making the time, or having the motivation, or just the sheer courage, and I for one have yet to take the cold water challenge. That said, my own studies and practice of Qigong lead me to have no trouble endorsing at least the breathing techniques, which seem like an effective précis of the many methods I have encountered over the years.
The aim of breath work, like this, is to dramatically increase the oxygen content of the blood. Breath is, literally, the stuff of life, it is oxygen, it is the Qi of the Chinese, the Prana of the Hindu, but the western lifestyle means we are often living under stress, which interferes with the breath, restricts it, which results in a permanent state of hypoxia, and a resulting chemical imbalance, which leads to inflammation, to immuno-deficiency, and to all manner of sickness. We gradually acidify. Attention to the breath redresses the balance, boosting oxygen intake, and gradually resetting the dial so to speak. Reading this book has reinforced the answers to the questions my own practice of Qigong posed over the years.
Whilst at pains to provide a rigorous backing for its claims, there is an undoubted hippy, new age vibe to the narrative, and Wim’s language is never far away from the mystical – at least in a secular, new age kind of way. Some readers may find this off-putting, but this is not written as a sterile medical textbook, it is the document of a man’s life, his achievements and his passions, told in his own words, which makes his story all the more readable, and I warmed to it at once.
Wim Hoff: I’ll tell you what I do. I follow my inner voice and listen to what it tells me. I trust my soul sense and let it guide me. I ignore, as best as I can my ego. I know it’s going to be cold in the morning and that those first few seconds in the cold water are going to be unpleasant because my ego tells me so. But my inner voice tells me to bloody get into that cold water,…
We’ve all heard that voice. For now mine’s not urging me under a cold shower in the mornings, though with electricity currently at nearly 30p per Kilowatt hour, I can see the benefits to my pocket, if not also my health. It once happened by accident, a guest house shower suddenly running ice-cold, and the shock of that was so great I gasped for breath, staggered out, and nearly fainted. Wim does suggest, therefore, you go easy on yourself to begin with.
Altogether, a very engaging and informative read. I gained such a lot of knowledge from it, answering questions I’ve had for a long time about breath-work, and it effects on physiology. And yes, I’m sure a cold shower would wake me up in more ways than one, but at the risk of sounding cosseted, I’m happy to take it one day at a time.
I had never heard of Wim Hof before. Right now, techniques to endure excessive heat would be useful.
Cold water swimming is getting popular here on Canada’s west coast. I hear of folks who go for a daily dip year round. The water is rarely other than cold at our beaches, even in summer. Maybe I should look into this as a heat cure!
Hi Audrey, wild swimming also seems to be a thing that’s catching on here too. I’m a timid swimmer, so haven’t joined in with it. Apart from a few sultry days so far, our summer has been rather cool. Wim Hof does mention dealing with the stress of heat. Prolonged heat is unpleasant, and I do sympathise – stressful for gardens too!
It’s predicted to be cooler after today, and has been nothing like the extremes of last June’s “heat dome.” But with climate change, it would be a good idea to develop heat hardiness.
I like this guy but am not brave enough to take part in the “wild” activities he takes part in. Wild swimming, for example has become very popular here, but I wouldn’t enter the rivers for the amount of pollution in them. Farms, and the water authorities, regularly dump unknown quantities of chemicals and poisons into them! I even filter my tap (drinking) water!
It’s the same round my neck of the woods, effluent from dairy farms being a problem. I like his breathing method, but those cold showers? Brrrrr.
I take a cold shower, whenever hot is not available or just too complicated.
I’ve just come back from a long week on the Norfolk Broads, mooring at Horsey Windpump gives the option of a 1/2 mile walk to the sea at Horsey Gap where a large colony of seals flaunt themselves in the water when they’re not hauled out on the beach with their pups later in the year. We arrived there on Thursday afternoon in the rain and that spurred me on – I love sea swimming in the rain! I had my trunks with me, but a friend asked “how will you dry them?”, and since the beach was remote and deserted, I went in without. If it is raining, the skin is wet before you meet the sea, so there is no gasp reflex. It is the gasp reflex that often causes drowning in cold water or heart attack, and generally failure to self rescue, along with our general irrational phobia of cold water.
I am quite certain that apart from general poor respiratory health, what limits us is self belief.
Skip the cold shower Michael, next time you come across a hillside plunge pool on a rainy day, strip off and dive in! I promise it’ll put a smile on your face and a spring in your step.
Just don’t forest your towel, and perhaps an extra jumper for afterwards.
I suspect an experienced sea dog like yourself is better equipped for exposure to cold water. Us landlubbers get the shivers just thinking about it.
Trick is not to think about it!