Ah, New Year coming! Along with this, comes the usual spectacle of crazy people running into the frigid ocean waves-for a “Polar Bear Swim”. Exactly what is the purpose of this? Usually, a few old geezers succumb to heart attacks-and they always have an ambulance nearby.
Is this a case of mass stupidity? Or do people like the entertainment value?
Clearly, it’s for the entertainment. These people find shocking their skin to be a fun experience. It makes no more sense than enjoying hot sauce, but there you go.
I’m a cold water swimmer, having grown up on Lake Michigan and residing there still.
But even I won’t emulate the polar bears who put on multiple spectacles up and down my stretch of lakeshore every January 1.
I discovered that if I hit the water when it’s less then 50 degrees, annoying cardiac arrhythmias distract me from the ‘fun’.
I will jump from the hot tub into a snow bank though. Now that is a good time.
I’ve swum in water with ice floating by. It’s exhilarating, in fact the only danger is a sort of euphoria that might lead you to ignore how long you’ve been in. Now I only do it with my husband on shore within calling distance. I remember a day where people were walking on the beach wearing fur coats and I was enjoying the sea. When you get out of the water and into icy air and wind, it feels as though your skin is burning, but in a good way.
Still, I don’t find the group polar bear thing appealing.
I took a dip once in December. My legs cramped up and if the water had been deeper I might have drown… I don’t think I’ll do it again.
I once bathed in the Ganga, in India, in December. Now, it doesn’t actually get that cold in December - in the middle of the day it might be in the sixties. However, we bathed at six am. The temperature was probably around 40-45degrees. The water - significantly colder! And I did it because it was a holy thing, and I was fifteen and hot-blooded, so it didn’t seem to matter as much. But it was still freezing.
I can’t imagine how people do the polar bear things.
Most of the polar bear swims I’ve heard of are done for charity purposes. Usually the swimmers each get multiple sponsors who agree to donate to a given charity in exchange for the public spectacle of watching a group of people turn blue. That’s why I did it. Two minutes of slightly freezing my extremities bought me a BBQ lunch and earned a few hundred buck for the local volunteer firefighter’s fund. I’ve heard worse deals.
I did it for the experience, but wouldn’t do it again. It was exhilarating, but I only spent about 30 seconds in the water, then took the rest of the weekend to warm up.
At a hotel I’ve lounged in the hot tub, then got and and jumped into the unheated pool. That was kind of cool.
My son’s school has an active team that swims (dips really, it’s just a plunge, not any distance) to raise money each year for Special Olympics.
As someone who has never jumped in frigid waters and who has experienced a sauna only once (but who grew up in Miami, which sometimes comes close), I’m curious as to what feels better: 1) sitting in a sauna for a long spell, followed by a quick immersion in snow or frigid waters; or 2) taking a quick dip in frigid waters, followed by a long stretch in said sauna?
I’m guessing that #1 feels better, and that in the real world, anyone doing that would promptly head back to the sauna anyway, following their quick dip.
I did it for the same reason that I want to go sky diving: To prove to myself that my frontal lobe is in charge. (Good thing I’m female, or that woudl really sound awful! LOL!)
There’s a certain moment when you have to force yourself into that water, despite everything evolution can throw at you, and each individual cell screaming at you not. to. do. it. Knowing that you can make yourself cross that barrier is a great boost to self-esteem. Of the hundred or so people who started out the door, only about twenty-some made it into the water at all, and only about fifteen or so got in past their ankles.
Now, some may say (as my Aunt did) that this only proof of one’s ability to do something profoundly stupid despite every safety back-up system the Good Lord so carefully installed. And perhaps she’s right; but the important thing is, that I did it on purpose.
I did not, however, find it exhilarating, an I probably won’t ever do it again. Perhaps if Celtling wants company on her first go. . .
FYI, here is the Jacksonport, Wisconsin Polar Bear Club page. and if you decide to become a polar bear, some helpful hints.
Qadgop, I expect to see you there in spite of your protestations. It’s just a few miles north – you could come by boat, but watch out for icebergs. And we haven’t had any heart attacks yet.
They have it easy! Me and my friend randomly decided to go swimming in Lake Erie when the water was 37 degrees - but it was spontaneous so we didn’t have any swimtrunks or towels or anything. It’d been raining so the wood was unsuitable for fire. The air temp was about 45 degrees.
So we stripped down to our shorts and … well, you can’t dive in, that’s the thing. You can only walk in slowly. Which is way harder than diving in. You get to feel your foot freeze solid and your body scream DANGER DANGER GET OUT! and you still have to keep taking steps forward. It’d be easier to just plunge in, I think.
I took about 10 steps in before I could dive in, at which point my body said EVERY PAIN RECEPTOR FIRE AT MAXIMUM and I just like… instinctually desperately ran/swam/crawled back onto shore as fast as possible. And then sat in the snow with the freezing rain coming down in wet clothes with no fire or towels trying to warm up.
Awesome.
I did this when I lived on Long Island back in the 80s. A friend and I felt like our lives were too routine, and we wanted to do something different, something few other people would do. We put on our bathing suits, then piled on jeans and fat down jackets and drove to Jones Beach or Robert Moses Park, one of those two. The temperature was in the 30s. We took off our jeans but couldn’t bring ourselves to take off our jackets, and we ran into the ocean, screaming. (We were in our late 20s at the time.) The exhilaration is hard to describe. The coldness of the water takes your breath away, but at the same time it’s so exciting, like you’re finally truly truly awake and alive.
We probably didn’t go past our thighs, but I do remember holding my jacket up around my waist so it wouldn’t get wet. We didn’t stay in long, but afterwards we were giddy. Just giddy, and very satisfied with ourselves.