The other day whilst standing in a very hot bath contemplating how much cold water it was going to take before I was able to sit down.

I already knew before trying that there was way too much water in the bath, and if I wanted to get enough cold in there, then I was going to have to empty out at least a third of it.

These are the kind of world-shaking, mindbogglingly important dilemmas that are faced on a daily basis in the Cryptogee household.

As I stood there lamenting the wasting of perfectly good, clean hot water. My mind began to drift, I suddenly found myself thinking of athletes who use ice baths to recover, and then to Wim Hof, the one they call the iceman.

As I stood there swaying slightly, my morning ablution delayed by the intimidating heat given off from my freshly pumped water. I suddenly realised that within the sensation we call pain, there must naturally be a fair amount of redundancy built in.

After all, the most important function of pain is to act as an early warning system, letting you know in advance that you may be about to do yourself some serious and permanent damage.

Limits Of Pain

The thought of pain redundancy had never crossed my mind before, I mean; why would it?

But it suddenly struck me with the same sort of clarity Archimedes must have been blessed with circa 1700 years ago, when he leaped from his bath and ran naked down the streets screaming; Eureka!

My mind was cast back about 8 months previously when I was on holiday. The heated pool in our resort was obviously using the lesser known definition of 'heated', to mean bloody freezing.

I remember the pain I felt as I jumped into the icy waters of that pool, it was very real and very stark.

My brain immediately interpreted my diving into icy water as an act of madness from which it needed to save me from.

It did this by telling my entire body that it was in extreme pain, and it made sure it knew that the only reason for this malady was because of my previous decision to immerse myself in water that was just a couple of degrees away from turning into ice.

Of course I ignored my all-too-sensible brain, and simply got my head under and started to swim with zeal and vigour, until the pain downgraded itself to mild discomfort.

As I stood in the tub, shin deep in water that was the polar opposite of that icy pool. I realised that even though our brains are telling us something hurts, unless it is actually dangerous to our well being, the pain signals can be coaxed to a stop by simply carrying on with whatever activity is causing you this 'pain'.

So rather than empty roughly 30% of the hot water in my bath and replacing it with cold water. I decided instead to kneel down on one knee.

The Pain Barrier

Going 'through the pain barrier' is something we've all heard about.

The term is usually reserved for moments during our sporting endeavours. For instance there is a pain barrier moment when doing a long distance run or swim.

It is that moment when our brains are telling our bodies, to tell our brains to stop doing whatever it is that is causing all that pain.

However instead of listening to our rather sensible brains, we hit the override switch and carry on with our foolish endeavours.

Usually though, there is more at stake than just wasting a bit of water, perhaps a trophy to be won, or a personal best to be trumped . .

How then was I to muster the courage and strength needed to sink into water that felt like it was slowly conniving to remove all the skin from my lower legs?

The answer was to realise that the pain signals received from cold water, must be similar, if not the same as the ones received from hot water.

So I thought back to the instant after jumping into icy water on holiday, and rembered that once submerged, I was fine.

So after putting that first brave knee into the moltenously hot water, I followed suit with the second knee.

Pushing The Limits

So now I am kneeling on both knees in a bath that instinctively I wanted to jump out of and cool down.

Okay, that's great I thought to myself, however now I have to translate this into a sitting position.

Hmmm, that's going to involve dipping my testicles into scalding hot water . .

For some reason that thought didn't sound all too appealing, but it was outweighed by the much more annoying thought of giving up this little bathroom experiment.

So I tentatively knelt back on my haunches, all the while keeping the thought of the moment after, when everything would be fine.

To my somewhat surprise I didn't leap from the bath swearing blue murder, I'd done it, the family jewels were fully immersed in lava!

OK, now to swap kneeling .

for sitting . .

Okey dokey here goes . . .

Ahhhhhhhhhooohhhowowowaaaahhhhhhh . . . .

Lessons In Pain

So now fully seated in my lava pit, it takes another 3 minutes or so before I can slide my shoulders and finally my head under the water.

Everything feels normal now, my brain has realised that I'm not in mortal danger and has turned off all pain signals being received from my skin, and is now happily thinking about Steemit articles.

As well as conjuring this one up, my brain told me to do an article or series of articles on the previously mentioned Wim Hof.

He is someone that has fascinated me for some time now, and whilst some of his explanations for what he does are out of whack. It cannot be denied that he has been studied scientifically and has baffled the boffins with his extraordinary physiology.

So I leave you with the image of my testicles burning in a fiery pit forever impinged on your mind, and await your loving attention for my next article . .

INCREDIBLE YOU! - WIM HOF LEGEND OF THE ICEMAN

SO WHAT ABOUT YOU HAVE YOU ENDURED PAIN JUST FOR THE HELL OF ENDURING? OR DO YOU AVOID IT LIKE THE PLAGUE? AS EVER, LET ME KNOW BELOW!

Cryptogee