The Cold Plunge of Life

This may raise hell with some of you, but I’m strictly a nighttime shower guy. I need the heat before the sheets. Some science says this forces your body to cool itself down, thus promoting better sleep. But it’s also a hygiene issue. I try and get in my 10k+ steps every day, which means I sweat. I sweat a lot.

So the thought of slipping under the covers smelling like a dirty turtle next to my wife is gross. For those who do that, I envy your beautiful sweat glands. But also, gross?

Even when I’m backpacking in the Sierra Mountains, I plunge into that sweet 38-degree water after setting up my tent. For the first 45 seconds, my torso goes into shock and I want to shrivel up and disappear. It’s fucking freezing.

But it’s also nice. After the first sting, a dopamine rush envelops my body that’s hard to convey until you’ve willfully submerged yourself up to your neck in ice water for at least three minutes.

The cold brings mental gains too. I get this surprise appreciation for being alive, for the chance to feel this, and not be underground. And the view ain’t bad in the backcountry: towering walls of black and white granite around me, alpine lakes of crystal blue, and deer that approach and dart away at the sight of my Patagonia hiking pants. 

Cold plunging has been in vogue for years now, thanks to guys like Joe Brogan and Andrew Huberman. The Culture Study podcast just released an episode where several women asked WHY? Why is sitting in ice baths so popular now? Why are so many bros doing it? And this begs the question: am I that bro? 

As someone who takes cold showers on the reg, probably. But here’s why I do it:

We need a physical challenge because we’re too complacent. This is a result of entitlement, the suburbs, the boring drudgery of everyday life, Doordash delivery meals and swiping for love, and YouTube shorts of David Goggins running in the snow that keep popping up in my feed. We’re looking for a rush. We crave hardship.

Covid reminded us all to get healthy, and it bred some amount of mistrust in the mainstream healthcare system. Left/right politics questioned the science, and that affected everyone. Do masks work? Did school lockdowns harm our children? Did I get Covid from the vaccine? 

Getting medical care today is so broken and annoying. Finding a doctor or provider means a mix of calling friends or relatives for a recommendation, then googling that person to scan their reviews on Yelp like they’re a fucking sandwich shop. (This doctor gives adults lollipops, 4 stars!). The process sucks so much, I do what so many of us do: I ignore a small concern until it becomes a full-blown health crisis. So what if my arm doubled in size? It’s not broken, just a deep bruise. 

We’ve taken our health into our own hands, which is both bad and good. 

It’s bad when that small red patch on my elbow becomes an Ebola outbreak. But it’s good because we realize we have the agency to steer our well-being ourselves – mental and physical. When the alternative is a complicated and costly clusterfuck, and you can’t get an appointment until April of next year, you figure it out. 

Personally, my approach to preventive care is trying to manage problems before they show up. Hearing that my seventy-five-year-old dad tumbled down the stairs, or gets trapped in rehabilitation centers post-surgery for months will do that. I see him, and other dads, and I’m scared. I don’t want to get caught in that situation. Hospitals smell. And I don’t want to put that burden on my kids or others. 

I want to be that freakish 80-year-old grandpa who does one-armed pull-ups at the park. Someone who can handle 200-mile cycling tours in Italy. (Life goal) I want to be the standout senior who can sumo squat. 

Getting there has become something of an obsession for me lately. With freelance work hard to wrangle right now, I’m trying to keep the rest of my life in shape. And that means trying lots of stuff.

Cold plunges. Sauna sessions. Yin yoga. Hot yoga. Climbing twice a week. Meditation when I can remember. Writing this newsletter so my brain doesn’t become a puddle. I even got this weird Shakti acupressure mat – essentially a bed of plastic nails that’s supposed to relax my… …I’m not sure exactly. But I tried it last night. More on that later.

Am I addicted to this journey? Is that even possible? Maybe. Not sure. It’s not replacing my priorities – it’s helping me accomplish them. But yes, this shit gets expensive. 

I justify all these purchases for wellness reasons, and my Jewish guilt means I must use them fairly consistently – until there’s always a new toy on the market. Like this $200 hip hook that will finally unlock my tight hip flexor. Or this massage tool made with rollerblade wheels to target my forearms. I have a treasure chest of stretching equipment that you wouldn’t believe. 

But hey – my alcohol collection is almost zero. My vice of choice right now is flexibility, not a fireball. (Hope you liked that alliteration, took me a few.)

The truth is, there’s no end to this mobility journey. Not until the final finish line – when I’m completely senile,  and wearing all-day diapers. When that day happens, just leave in the woods with a book. But until then, I want to stretch my time and my body, as long as possible. 

4 Things Right Now

Share: Did you enjoy this? If you made it this far, I’m guessing so. Forward this to someone who enjoys reading smart things. Then I’ll run a contest for an overpriced massage tool and we’ll all win something!

Move: The Shakti Mat - A guy at the climbing gym told me about this, so naturally I ordered it immediately. Plastic spikes recreate a bed of nails. It hurts, then it feels good, then it feels surprisingly good and sleep-inducing. 

Listen: This Israeli song.

Think: It’s easy for me to slip into a depressive funk. This week I’ve paid more attention to my thoughts, and the power I wield over them. I can either be positive and hope for good outcomes, or I can stress myself out and be negative. Either choice doesn’t truly impact my situation in the future, but it will shape my mindset and mental well-being in the present. So I’m trying to stay positive and trust in whatever comes from that.