The Plunge

If you had said to me four years ago that one day I would be addicted to swimming in the hole in the ice, I would have said you have lost your mind. And if you had said I would be so into this winter ritual of mine that I would make my own hole in the middle of the lake, I would have asked if you were on drugs.

My first time taking the plunge was four years ago at Christmas time. It was bloody horrible and lasted about two seconds. I expected that.

But what I didn't expect was the feeling afterwards: despite the cold, I felt so good. So alive.

Every nerve in my body was tingling. Both literally and figuratively. And I felt so proud of myself. I never thought I would have the courage to try something like ice swimming.

The first winter that followed the first plunge was a bit patchy and still quick dips rather than swims. Until we did it consistently every day for two weeks. Each day, the cold got more bearable, more enjoyable, more relaxing, but also more energising.

Fast forward to this winter, and my partner and I have done something we talked about for the last few years. We have made our own hole in the ice. Until this winter, we had used the “official” ice swimming place in Rovaniemi. Which is great, other than it gets too busy - if you call it too busy when you might have to share the changing room with two or three others.

For me, ice swimming is more private. A calming and energising ritual during which, or after, I don’t really like to talk to anyone. It’s a meditative moment that clears the head and toughens the body.

Swimming in the ice can improve circulation, reduce inflammation and muscle soreness, improve immune response, reduce chronic pain, improve metabolic activity, and improve breathing control.

Of course, I welcome the physical benefits of ice swimming, but for me, it goes far beyond that.

It is about dedication and discipline. Of proving myself to myself each day. Reminding myself that I am and what is possible with determination. Each time I descend into the hole, it reminds me of the wonderful feeling of achievement. Of the importance of getting outside my comfort zone.

It is about emptying my head of all the noise and distractions. About being present in the moment. For a blissful moment or two, I don’t think about anything except being in the water and breathing. No worries or stresses exist when I’m in the icy hole. Just me, the freezing water, the ice around me, and the sky above me.

Swimming in the ice reminds me that the unimaginable is possible. Just because right now I cannot see how something could happen, it doesn’t mean it can’t or won’t. Even though all the steps might not be clear to me now, when I take action toward my goals, those steps will become clearer in time.

Each swim in the ice might only last a couple of minutes at a time, but the impact stretches far beyond those moments. My winter ice swimming ritual has made me more resilient, more determined, more present, and less concerned about how or when. It has helped me realise what is important and give fewer “fucks”.

It helps me get out of bed early when I’d rather press the snooze button. It helps me go out for a run when I’d rather eat some sweets and watch telly. It helps me negotiate higher rates for my freelancing work when I feel uncomfortable talking about money. It helps me believe in myself when I’m prone to self-doubt. It helps me do uncomfortable things because I know I can. I prove it to myself every time I get into that hole in the ice.

Having said all that and regardless of how much I love ice swimming, I still think I must be some level of crazy to put myself through the discomfort voluntarily. But I also think that a little bit of craziness helps us achieve our dreams.

Without the crazy, our brains would talk us out of doing things outside our comfort zone every time. And the weird thing is, the more we practise doing things outside the comfort zone, the easier it gets, like swimming in the ice.

Perhaps swimming in the ice is crazy. Perhaps it is the sanest thing I do each day. Most likely, it is a bit of both. What I know for sure is that it is a winter ritual I love. A ritual with a bigger impact on my life than I could ever have imagined.