My Guinness World Record Attempt For The Longest Firewalk
After months of waiting, the email finally arrived.
The decision from Guinness World Records was in.
My attempt to walk 250 metres across burning embers had not been ratified.
The reason?
During the firewalk, my pace was judged to be running rather than walking at a normal speed.
I'd love to say I immediately saw the positive in it all. I didn't.
I was disappointed.
Not simply because I wasn't going to receive a Guinness World Record certificate, but because I knew just how much had gone into making that day happen.
The planning. The training. The logistics. The nerves. The incredible amount of work behind the scenes.
And, most importantly, the people.

So many people had believed in this slightly crazy dream alongside me.
But once I'd had time to sit with the decision, I began to see the experience differently.
And strangely enough, Guinness had given me one final lesson from the fire.
Walk. Don't run.
Stepping outside my own comfort zone
My work is about helping other people step outside their comfort zones.
Through Firebird Firewalks, I have the enormous privilege of working with corporate teams, charities, retreats and individuals, creating experiences that allow people to confront fear and discover what they're capable of.
I've watched people stand in front of a fire believing they couldn't possibly walk across it.
I've watched the moment they decide to take that first step.
And I've watched their faces at the other side when they realise:
I did it.
Those moments are why I love what I do.
But I also believe that if I'm going to ask other people to step outside their comfort zones, I need to be willing to keep stepping outside my own.
For me, attempting the longest firewalk was exactly that.
It scared me.
It stretched me.
It challenged me physically and mentally.
There were moments during the preparation when I wondered what on earth I'd got myself into.
And then came the moment when I stood at the beginning of 250 metres of burning embers and had to do exactly what I ask other people to do.
Take the first step.
I still walked 250 metres across hot coals
A Guinness World Records title would have been wonderful.
But not receiving one doesn't erase what happened that day.
I still crossed 250 metres of burning embers.
I still did something I once didn't know whether I was capable of doing.
And I have the memories of that experience embedded within me forever.
That's something I've always believed about experiential empowerment.
Someone can tell you that you're brave.
Someone can inspire you.
Someone can stand on a stage and tell you that you're capable of more.
But when you experience yourself doing something you didn't believe you could do, something changes.
You don't just hear the message.
You embody it.
That's why the certificate was never really the most important thing.
This was never my achievement alone
When I look back at the record attempt now, what moves me most isn't actually the fire.
It's the people surrounding it.

My incredible Firebird team gave so much of themselves to make the attempt possible.
There were volunteers, marshals, medics, officials, photographers, videographers, our DJ, friends, family and people working quietly behind the scenes whose contribution may never have been visible to those watching.
And then there were the businesses and organisations who believed in the vision and supported us in bringing it to life.
I will never forget that.
A particularly heartfelt thank you goes to Eugene Haines of Haines Fleet Management, whose belief, encouragement and support helped turn an idea in my head into something we actually stood there and did.
And my sincere thanks go to all of our wonderful sponsors and supporters: Haines Fleet Management, East Staffordshire Borough Council, Phoenix Fire School, No More Ply, Axis Surveys, Everyone Active, Stanton Nurseries, Insta-Plant, Maverick Security Services, Key Loops, Smile Entertainment and WOW Firewalks.
You didn't just support an event.
You believed in a possibility.
To every single person who played a part in that day: thank you from the bottom of my heart.
This was never mine alone.
It was ours.
And then came the real lesson...
There's a wonderful irony in all of this that isn't lost on me.
After everything I went through to attempt a world record, the reason it wasn't ratified essentially came down to this:
I needed to walk, not run.
And perhaps I needed to hear that.
Because how many of us are running?
Running businesses.
Running families.
Running from one commitment to another.
Chasing the next achievement, the next goal, the next milestone.
We're so busy trying to reach wherever we're going that sometimes we forget to experience where we actually are.
Maybe resilience isn't always about pushing harder.
Maybe sometimes it's knowing when to slow down.
To be present.
To trust the process.
To put one foot in front of the other.
And to recognise how far we've already come.
Success doesn't always look the way we imagined
If you'd asked me before the attempt what success looked like, I probably would have pictured myself holding a Guinness World Records certificate.
That isn't how this story ended.
But I don't consider what happened a failure.
Quite the opposite.
I stepped outside my comfort zone.
I attempted something extraordinary.
I discovered something new about myself.
I was surrounded by an incredible community of people.
And I walked 250 metres across burning embers.
No email can take any of that away.
Sometimes we set ourselves a goal believing the achievement will be found at the finish line.
Then life has a funny way of showing us that the real achievement was everything that happened on the way there.
So, will this be the end of my adventures?
If you know me, you'll already know the answer to that one.
But I will be carrying one little reminder with me into whatever comes next:
Walk. Don't run.
And enjoy the journey. ❤️🔥
Olivia Beardsmore
Founder, Firebird Firewalks, Master Firewalk Instructor & Experiential Empowerment Coach




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