Farenheit 1236 - at which feet burn (From Stroud News and Journal)

Farenheit 1236 - at which feet burn

It's not often you are asked to walk across hot coals in the course of your employment. But in the interests of worthy and newsworthy causes, SNJ reporter Alli Pyrah found herself agreeing to take part in Stroud's first ever firewalk.

The event was organised by the ingenious fund raising team at the Meningitis Trust, in connection with specialist company Blaze. Twenty two fearless volunteers, including Cainscross Rugby Team, were sponsored to walk over 20 feet of wood embers, burning at 1236 degrees Fahrenheit. To put this in perspective, aluminium melts at 1100 degrees, paper combusts at 451 and human flesh sizzles at just 300.

ARRIVING at the Sea Cadet Unit on Bath Road on Sunday, May 29 for the motivational training session, we are unsurprisingly asked to sign disclaimers.

On the plus side, we receive free T-shirts from organiser Emily Murray, who is looking more nervous than we are.

It emerges that the group has many and varied reasons for wanting to master the firebed. Mine is simple curiosity. I am dying to know how this seemingly impossible feat can be accomplished.

The mystery is soon to be resolved. Our coach is Tony Ferrol, an enthusiastic character with a martial arts background.

He tells us that there are three main reasons why firewalking can be done. First and most importantly, the soles of your feet do not stay in contact with the heat long enough to burn.

"It's like getting a baked potato out of the oven," he says. "If you held it in your palm for any length of time, it would burn you. But you can toss it from hand to hand without getting hurt."

Secondly, wooden embers have been used in the building of the firebed. Wood, as anyone who has managed to stay awake through a GCSE science class will know, is a very poor conductor of heat.

And finally, the sweat on the soles of our feet will offer a kind of protection, in much the same way as licking your fingers enables you to painlessly snuff out a candle.

With the logistics out of the way, Tony moves onto the more complicated task of motivating us.

With our eyes closed to avoid embarrassment, we are asked to adopt in turn the body language we would assume if we were depressed, uncertain and elated.

Tony explains that just as how we feel affects our body language, our body language affects how we feel. He illustrates his point by asking us to think about something that makes us angry while grinning at the ceiling, which proves very difficult.

Working with the principle that repetition is the key to forming beliefs, we then engage in an enormously enjoyable exercise which tests our strength after repeating that we are "weak, feeble and useless" and "strong, powerful and magnificent" respectively.

"Listen up!" yells Tony. "In twenty minutes time, you will be walking over the firebed, so we don't want to get this wrong!"

This has the effect of focusing our attention remarkably swiftly, as we undertake the final part of the motivational seminar - the practice run.

We are told to think of a word which will sum up the way we will feel after completing the challenge. Cainscross Ruby Team settle for variations on "yeah!", "waaay!" and "come on!", while I go for "magnificent", a lovely sounding word which springs to mind readily after the previous task.

We are asked to visualise ourselves successfully completing the firewalk, whilst saying our word and doing a gesture appropriated from the happy body language exercise.

This, Mark explains, will create an 'anchor', which we can recall whenever we wish to master a fear. We then do a practice run, involving raucous applause for every walker of our imaginary firebed. Suitably psyched up, we head outside to take on the real thing.

As we turn the corner, the enormity of the task finally hits me. The beer garden of the Clothiers Arms is literally packed with cheering crowds, desperate to see if our flesh will sizzle in the course of this seemingly stupid and dangerous activity.

With Cainscross Rugby Team punching the air as they holler an exuberant war cry, I am beginning to feel like Russell Crowe in Gladiator. The flames are beaten down with shovels and we are facing 20 feet of the charred remains of wooden chips.

As the hungry hordes goggle in amazement, each and every one of us walks across the firebed, arriving at the other end unscathed and making nearly as much noise as the crowd in the process. The rugby team is uncontrollable, cheering and piling on top of one another like they have just won the world cup.

It has to be said that the experience, which I would liken physically to walking over warm sand, has left a deep impression on me. After walking over hot coals, I feel invincible.

The prospect of asking my bank manager to extend my overdraft will no longer fill me with dread and telling my parents about the piercing I got six years ago seems like a walk in the park for my new magnificent self.

Sponsorship money is still being collected, but the event is expected to raise more than £2,000 for the Meningitis Trust. Already, rumours are circulating about the next challenge - walking over broken glass. Bring it on.