Inertia - the tendency to do nothing or to remain unchanged - is a condition many of us experience daily.
Perhaps that is why we play sport and do adventure activities: to feel alive, to push ourselves mentally and physically, to move from a state of inertia to a state of exertion.
And when there is some sort of mental or physical exertion required to overcome the elements, opponents or our own limitations, there is a certain level of risk involved.
The sport of free diving is one such activity that pushes the boundaries of what is humanly possible to the limits, and the failed attempt of New Zealand free diver William Trubridge was an example of this.
Watching him surface after hitting the 102m target and receiving assistance at the 20m mark on his way up was quite disturbing.
He blacked out momentarily, which must be a difficult thing for his support crew and family to watch, especially when only a year ago, Nicholas Mevoli died after losing consciousness 30 seconds after surfacing from a 72m free dive attempt at the very same location.
It seems unnatural to force the human body to deal with an excessive amount of carbon dioxide when it isn't designed to do so, but that is the attraction of this extreme sport, I suppose.
Despite the risks such as disorientation, blackouts, nitrogen narcosis and the bends, fanatics of this sport that became competitive in 1949 continue to push themselves mentally and physically to their limits.
Sponsors are realising that there is some value to their brand in being associated with this extreme yet simple sport. It is humanity against the elements, and mental v physical.
The rapid growth of this marginal sport suggests it will continue to attract the individualist daredevils in our midst. Free diving enthusiasts wax lyrical about the joy of being in the water, suspended in silence at great depths, of being ''in the moment'' as a necessity and as a result ''all the problems and issues complicating our lives'' dissolve away.
As Nick Mevoli, the free diver who died doing what he loved, said: ''Water is acceptance of the unknown, of demons, of emotions, of letting go and allowing yourself to flow freely with it.''
Many of us would not be able to understand this mentality, or desire to put ourselves at risk by holding our breath for minutes at a time.
But then some people can't understand why women would want to risk getting injured playing a contact sport like rugby, and it is difficult to explain to the ''unbelievers'' what is so great about tackling, getting tackled, hitting into a maul, or being tap danced on at the bottom of a ruck.
You have to experience it to understand it and even then you may still not be convinced.
What level of risk in sport and adventure pursuits are we willing to consider acceptable?
That varies from person to person and from culture to culture. And even when we know all the risks, we still insist on putting ourselves in these situations.
Has Trubridge decided to hang up his free diving nose-clip because he failed and came close to death? No.
Before attempting to break his own 101m record set in 2010, Trubridge said he wasn't afraid of death - he was afraid of failure.
After facing his biggest fear, he is still definitely going to have another crack in about six months. And therein lies the hook for this extreme event for spectators, sponsors and participants.
The combination of mental fortitude (self-belief, optimism, resilience) and physical fortitude (training and performing without oxygen) is what we all wish we had even a fraction of when we just can't bring ourselves to get off the couch and overcome the psychological and physiological inertia that overwhelms us.
