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My Cold Plunge Journey

Personal Perspective: The benefits of swimming in cold water.

E. Loberg
The Cold Plunge
E. Loberg

When I first joined my gym years ago, I found out the men had a cold plunge in their locker room, and the women didn’t, so I advocated for us to have the same locker room privileges.

Well, you should be careful what you ask for because it can always come back and bite you in a cold pool.

Cold plunges have numerous physical and mental health advantages, and experts have said that cold water immersion can do the following:

  • decrease inflammation
  • offer a huge rush of endorphins
  • spike dopamine
  • improve sleep and mood
  • reduce stress
  • help remedy aches and pains
  • boost injury recovery
  • reduce swelling
  • potentially increase testosterone
  • promote lymphatic drainage
  • regulate hormones
  • accelerate metabolism

When we finally got our cold plunge, my journey began. After doing some research, I discovered that it is recommended that a good target time for a cold plunge is three minutes. Ok, that doesn’t sound too bad, and initially, I thought this would be a physical challenge. I didn’t realize I was actually on a journey of taking a plunge above and beyond a physical experience.

At the get-go, I could only dip in and jump out, and even that was a harsh struggle. When I spoke to other women in the locker room, they all seemed to have a different experience. I encouraged the woman with a locker beside me to try it, and she replied, “If I go in there, you’ll have to call an ambulance.”

Meanwhile, other women would casually sit chilling there for minutes like it was no problem. One time, I observed a woman on her phone, and when I asked her about it, she said it was a good distraction and recommended texting back and forth with someone. I even spoke to one lady in the sauna who did the plunge for six minutes. She is a yoga instructor who also works as a professional coach teaching clients how to breathe, so she probably has a leg up on the matter.

I knew that six minutes was probably never in the cards for me, but it was helpful to know that it was possible, and maybe with time and practice, someday I’d get to at least a few recommended minutes. For now, I was trying to get past a handful of seconds before leaping out in a frenzy.

After trying different tactics to deal with the shock and pain, for example, counting my breaths and trying to work toward increasing the number each time, it wasn’t really working. Then, one day, out of nowhere, I dropped into the plunge and just started praying. I turned to God and repeated the following:

Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy, Lord, have mercy. May almighty God have mercy on me, forgive me my sins, and bring me to everlasting life.

I was born and raised Catholic, and the last time I was in a church was decades ago. I found it rather interesting that after all these years without exposure to Mass, my mind went straight to that place without even thinking about it, and I actually recalled those biblical words from my childhood.

I decided maybe doing the rosary and slowly making my way to ten Hail Marys would be a strategy for success. Then I found myself speeding through the prayer in my mind just like I did when I was a child when I had to do it. It’s like, God, get me out of this water as fast as you can, just like I would run through the rosary to get it finished and done with so I could go out and play.

I came to realize that the cold plunge was not just a physical journey but a mental and spiritual one, and with practice, the trio will all come and work together.

Yesterday, I was back in the sauna reading a magazine when an older woman walked in on the balls of her feet. She placed her towel down and laid on her stomach with her knees bent so the bottoms of her feet faced the ceiling. She then switched over onto her back and put one foot up against the wall, then the other foot, then both backdown, and sat up.

She looked uncomfortable and defeated as she sat there staring at her toes. I asked her if I could get her anything like water or a cold towel, and she said she had arthritis. She then turned and looked at me and said, “Do you think the heat is good for my feet?”

I smiled and replied, “Have you tried the cold pool?”

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