If you listened to any decent music during the early 90s you may recognize the title of this entry as a song by the Pixies.  Of course if you were sporting "hammer pants" and driving around with the Alpine pumping out Vanilla Ice (with the bass turned up to 11), you missed out big time.  Your loss, douchebag.   

I never quite understood what Frank Black was singing about but I have my own interpretation.  It would be odd to actually dig for fire.  They sell bic lighters and matches just about everywhere.  Theoretically though you could do it.  If for instance you were to dig down about 60 miles you would encounter molton rock with a temperature of somewhere between 650-1200 degrees Celcius.  That is plenty hot enough to burn anything.  Thanks to Ray Bradbury we know that paper auto-ignites at 451 degrees Celcius.  I know what you are thinking, isn't it 451 degrees Fahrenheit?  Actually no, Bradbury apparently thought Fahrenheit 451 was a better title than Celcius 451.  I agree.  If you want to dig a bit further you'll find it a lot warmer at the center of the earth.  How does 5000 degrees Celcius sound?  Al Gore was right after all.  That is some serious global warming. 

To me digging for fire is about doing something for intrinsic benefits, not for external gains.  To a casual observer it might seem like a senseless waste of time but the digger has their reasons known only to them.  Kind of like finding novel ways of making kettlebells as heavy as humanly possible.  Another good example of this might be ultramarathoners.  Who on earth would want to run 100 miles without resting unless someone were chasing them with an axe for a really long time?  Even then, at some point they would likely say, "screw it, I'm tired, kill me".  These ultramarathoners all have their reasons for doing what they do, all of them are a little different I imagine.  It is easy to chalk all of this up to obsessive-compulsive disorder but its clearly not all that.  Most of the folks I know of who do this are quite balanced with no obvious signs of mental illness. 

My mini vacation from kettlebell sport was a great idea. It gave me an opportunity to step away and reset.  I realized that for me, personally, kettlebell training is like digging for fire.  I like that.  Why work so hard, why try so hard?  Again it is about the journey.  Unlike most people, I have to dig a lot deeper.  I am never going to be good at this stuff, I lack flexiblity, my arms are short etc.  So what?  That is what is so cool about this.  I have to find a way though.  The challenges never end.  In reassessing all this I realized it is not at all about numbers but it is about improving technique and finding a way through adversity.  In my earlier pursuit of numbers I was focused on finding a way around my deficincies.  I liked the side-rack rest, I used uneven pace, I favored long cycle because it allowed me some refuge from the travails of the rack.  My goal now is to try to work through all of this.  I expect it will be difficult at first but eventually it will make things easier.  I am going to focus on the stuff I don't like (jerks and snatches).  I have no number goals I just want to get through ten minutes of jerks with the 32s with no shortcuts.  I'd also like to get through at least an 8 minute set of snatches with 32kg without shredding my hands.  Its all in the technique.  It is going to be a lot of fun.

Really this has little to do with kettlebells, there is nothing uniquely special about them.  they are just one of many implements to choose from.  This philosophy can apply to any sport or activity.  It does seem particularly well suited to endurance sports.  If you need to find me I'll be in my basement, digging.

I love the picture at the top of this post.  It was taken by a professional photographer named Eric Hart.  His website has more of his interesting photos.