You may have heard of him.
Man to run a half marathon above the arctic circle, wearing NOTHING but shorts,
swim underneath a sheet of ice, on purpose,
support his body weight with one finger, just for fun:
He likes to be in cold things.
That’s like his motto, mantra, and freaking battle cry.
I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, so
last night, I drove through the blistering Oregon rain, to a room of twenty people, lying down, breathing their own rhythm, in and out, in and out, to intense drum tracks.
Full inhale. . . Full exhale!
Walking into that DOES mean I showed up sec. late. . . couldn’t find the building.
Having practiced his breathing method before, I found the last spot on the floor and started.
That breathing method is seriously crazy. Halfway through, my hands started curling shut, in a good way. An intense buzzing sensation electrified my body, and time passed without me recognizing it.
The lights came on, and we all sat up. The instructor was squatting, perched on the ball of his feet.
“Alright, the ice bath is on the roof today. Please use the elevator when you exit, as people have slipped coming down the stairs.”
With that, we all stood up, went to change, and packed into an elevator, and filed out into the pouring rain. Everybody was warming up. Some did push-ups, some jumped and jogged, and some people were in wide stances, leaning left to right, breathing in and out, making primal noises in the rain, somehow in wavelike unison. It was freaking cool.
After a group chat with the instructor, a spot opened up in the pool, an invitation. We all hesitated, already shivering in the rain. I walked away from them, to the pool, took a breath, and got in.
After a minute, it seemed less cold, and I felt I could be there a good time longer without losing my mind. Once I realized that, I got out, and the chill air felt warm. I dried off, took the elevator down, and entered one of the most social saunas there’s ever been.