Bobsleigh Canada is not responsible for any injuries the writer (foreground) might incur at the tryout.

The melted ice signals the end of another competitive year, but for Bobsleigh Canada, the athlete recruitment season is just heating up.

It's early Saturday morning and I should be curled up in bed savouring a work-free weekend. Instead, I'm sitting outside Toronto's Metro Track and Field Centre, clad in my finest workout attire, awaiting a chance to strut my stuff for the bobsleigh powers that be. The folks at Bobsleigh Canada are in town to hunt for a fresh crop of national team members and this sportswriter is answering the call.

Now, in the interest of full disclosure, I must reveal I'm no high-performance athlete. Far from it.

A card in my wallet indicates I pay gym dues but I'd be ashamed to scrutinize my attendance log. My far-from-rigorous workout involves beer league softball in summer and snowboarding in winter, sprinkled in with the odd morning squash game or an easy-does-it weightlifting session. This routine is likely neutralized by all the sedentary hours spent glued to a computer screen.

Today's session is part of Bobsleigh Canada's annual dry-land recruitment tryouts. The tour hits several Canadian centres from March to October with the goal of unearthing athletes who possess the explosive combination of speed and power necessary to excel in the physically demanding Winter Olympic sport. Most members of the current national team were plucked from similar trials before donning the Maple Leaf.

The multi-step audition works as a sort of Bobsleigh Idol. But the road to the big team begins at gyms and tracks across the country like this indoor facility on the York University campus.

Warm it up, Chris

Walking into the sprawling athletics venue offers a flashback of my ever-so-brief junior high track career. I had a decent set of wheels as a kid but quit sprinting in Grade 10 upon discovering the joys of exercising my Nintendo thumb.

A muscular man with a shaved head is on bended knee about 100 metres away, tinkering with a computerized timing device in one of the lanes. It turns out he's former Olympian Matt Hindle, Bobsleigh Canada's development coordinator.

Bobsleigh Canada's development coordinator Matt Hindle (right) offers up training advice.

Hindle is an affable, laid-back 29-year-old and his disposition instantly eases the tension pellets rumbling around my innards. We chat about the day's itinerary and he hands me a waiver form to sign before warming up.

The document clears the bobsleigh federation of any responsibility should I pull a hammy or keel over from exhaustion. As I breeze through check boxes about hypertension and muscle injuries, an imposing shadow looms overhead. I look up and Hindle introduces me to Big Al.

Al Hough is a commanding figure with broad shoulders and thick leg muscles. I'm initially uncertain what role he'll play in the day's proceedings. The sprinkle of grey hair above his ears and his familiarity with Hindle lead me to speculate he’s another coach or evaluator. Wrong on both fronts.

It turns out Big Al, 40, is a previous recruitment camp success story. He parlayed a tryout two years ago into a World Cup gig pushing for Pierre Lueders – the most decorated Canadian bobsleigh pilot in history. The financial pressures of a mortgage and family led Hough to leave the team after just one season and return to his main profession as a plumber. Now he’s back for another shot with the 2006 Olympics on the brain.

The brief meeting inspires me to clamber off my duff to get a sweat on. While doing laps around the track, I spot two more recruits about 200 metres ahead. I turn on the jets, and while suppressing my heavy panting, meet Chinedu Amadi and Liam Card.

Amadi and Card are both former collegiate track athletes in their mid-20s. Judging by their toned physiques, they have little problem balancing training time with their desk jobs.

Both guys extend friendly handshakes and immediately make the CBC guy feel welcome. Card offers to lead me through a proper series of track exercises but I decline. I need to save some gas in the tank for the main event and I have a hunch their warm-up equates to my Daytona 500.

A handful of other hopefuls trickle onto the track and there's time for a couple stretches and practice sprints before Hindle calls us in to the start area.

Run, Harris, run

There are eight hopefuls, all men, attending today's session. Everyone except for me has a high-performance sports background in disciplines ranging from track and field to football and weightlifting.

Fellow recruit Chinedu Amadi is a blur on the track, even in training.

Hindle welcomes everyone and lays out the morning schedule. The testing is split into two parts, starting with a running portion – a 60-metre sprint, followed by a 15-kilogram resistance pull. Then it's off to the weight room for three feats of strength – power clean, front squat and bench press. From these tests, Hindle can see who could have the potential to climb onto the ice in Calgary.

First up is the 60-metre sprint.

Hindle charitably lets me run last so I can observe the others and glean a pointer or two. My apprehension mounts as each athlete appears to get progressively faster.

The machine Hindle set up earlier in the morning records a time for each runner's opening 30 metres and full 60 metres. Bobsleigh Canada lists the men's 30-metre competitive range at 3.80 to 4.00 seconds and the 60-metre standard at 6.80 to 7.00. I have no idea how fast I'll be.

I'm up after Amadi, who later tells me he was the top-ranked 60-metre runner in the country a few years ago. He's through the finish line before I can gather my thoughts and get psyched up. Suddenly, it's my turn.

All background noise disappears as I step to the start line. I sense all eyes shooting in my direction. Time to assume the two-point stance, one foot in front of the other, and take a couple deep breaths. My feet begin moving before I fully grasp what's going on.

A beep goes off as I blaze past the first 30-metre mark and I try to maintain my speed for the second half of the race. Everything blurs and I feel I could give Nic Macrozonaris a run for his money right now, even though my sloppy sprinting style would make a track coach cringe. I'm not running that fast, but with all the adrenaline racing through my system, it sure feels like it.

I lean through the finish line and begin shuffling back to the start area. Hindle meets me halfway and tells me I ran the opening 30 metres in 4.22 seconds. He said I could've slashed a tenth of a second off had I worn track spikes instead of my clunky court shoes. With training, he continues, I'd have a shot at getting into competitive range.

Anxiety and nerves are soon replaced by confidence. Am I about to pull off a Rudy Ruettiger-type feat with the World Cup acting as my Notre Dame football program?

Fleeting, yet irrational, thoughts of Calgary swirl through my mind after I shave my 30-metre time down to 4.20 in a second run. However, the buzz is short lived, as my grandiose plans are about to get swiftly smacked out of me in the weight room.

Falling down

The resistance pull provides a sneak peek of the brute strength that would go on display later in the weight room. This is when the bulls begin gaining ground on the gazelles.

Most of the other guys are lifting three large black weights on each side of the bar. I'll stick with the lighter red variety.

The pull exercise times a sprinter as they drag a 15-kilogram weight attached by a rope and secured around their waist. This is where guys like Big Al shine. It's also where I first notice Mike Ransky.

The 34-year-old Ransky is a lifelong track athlete and ranked Canadian discus thrower. He's built like a tank yet exhibits lightning speed for a big man. Ransky psyches himself up by emitting an earsplitting yelp and slapping his face. He is the embodiment of intensity.

It's Ransky's performance that truly makes me realize I'm a boy among men. He opens the lifting session by stacking weight upon weight onto the bar to try for a national-team record in power clean. He's unsuccessful, but the attempt alone is humbling.

The athletes continue to thrust the heavy weights skyward. I swear I can hear the bar begging for mercy.

It's finally my turn and I'm nervous as hell. I've never attempted a power clean and my first try is going to be through a haze of testosterone. Hindle goes easy on me, helping me place a couple of light weights.

I reach down to the ground and jerk the bar to shoulder-height with ease. After a second round of watching the other guys lift the house, I go on to make my most foolish decision of the morning.

A difficult lesson learned – improper weightlifting technique can be hazardous to your health.

Oozing with confidence after lift No. 1, I decide to nearly double the weight with a couple 45-pound plates on either side of the bar. I pull the weight up around my waist, but poor technique proves costly. I lose my balance while trying to hoist the bar to my shoulders, eventually falling backward and contorting my lower back into an unnatural position.

Turns out technique is important – a weightlifting lesson pounded into me the hard way.

I'm hurting but don't let on one bit. My emotional stress is more visible, as I'm openly disappointed about my failure. I sense Hindle realizes I'm reeling and he calls me over to stand next to him against the wall as he evaluates the other lifters.

He whispers technique tips into my ear, coaching me as the other lifters breeze through their third attempts. His pep talk rejuvenates me enough to give it one last go.

Ryan McConnell, a fellow attendee, also steps in to offer assistance. As a successful recruit from one of last year's Toronto camps, he knows his stuff. McConnell, 26, competed on the Europa Cup circuit last season – bobsleigh's minor-league equivalent. He reiterates what Hindle told me – use my lower body more, get close to the bar with my shins and quit using my arms so much.

I hear what he's saying but can't apply it. My elbows jut to the side like I'm plucking heavy turnips from the ground. It's not going to happen today.

I opt to sit out the front squat test, but Hindle hands me a lighter bar and teaches me more about proper technique. The guys then move over to the bench, where it doesn't take Ransky long to gun for another record of more than 400 pounds, which he narrowly misses.

Ryan McConnell (left), a member of Canada's 2004-05 Europa Cup bobsleigh team, provides some weightlifting pointers.

With an aching back and a couple of weightlifting debacles to my credit, I think about packing it in, but motivation percolates through my veins when I observe the guys push themselves to the limit. They're all hungry to represent Canada at the Olympics. It's hard not to be moved. I give it one final go, and fueled by boisterous encouragement from my fellow recruits, I hoist the bar off my chest for a successful bench press.

Camp is over and Hindle calls everyone in to tell us he'll evaluate the test results to find out who'll go to Calgary this summer.

I spend about an hour afterward talking to the guys and learn more about their fascinating paths into bobsleigh. I should ask Hindle about my performance, but I suddenly care more about the fates of Big Al, Mike, Chi, Liam, Ryan and the rest of the guys. Camaraderie can do that.

Hindle tells me he's inviting a handful of the hopefuls to the summer development camp. It's only the first step on a journey that could see some of them crack the national squad. Hindle informs me he thinks some of them have the goods to vie for a spot in Turin.

I'm proud. I head home thinking about who might make it to Calgary and wonder if I've just encountered any future Olympians.

There's not much secret to what lies in my immediate future. A couch, a remote control and a tub of liniment for my aching muscles.