Quick, give me a list of winter sports.
Ice skating, you say? Skiing, downhill and cross country. Tobogganing. Snowshoeing. Hockey, for traditionalists who prefer an outdoor pond to a year-round indoor rink.
That’s a good list. But you forgot swimming.
Yes, swimming. Outdoors. In a pool, lake, or maybe a 25-meter pool cut out of the frozen surface of a lake.
The International Ice Swimming Association (IISA), which held its sixth annual World Championship last month, defines ice swimming as “swimming in water temperature of 5.0 Celsius / 41.0 Fahrenheit unassisted, with a silicon cap, pair of goggles and standard swimming costume.”
No wetsuit to insulate you from the cold. No cap made of neoprene, the synthetic rubber used in wetsuits. Nothing between you and that icy water except your bathing suit and the downy hairs of your exposed skin.
Here's what happens to your body when you enter extremely cold water, according to Outdoor Swimmer:
“When entering cold water, cold receptors very close to the surface of your skin sense that your skin has been cooled quickly. This results in an initial gasp, followed by rapid, uncontrollable breathing, as well as an increase in heart rate and blood pressure.”
This is called the “cold shock response.” The article advises swimmers to enter the water slowly and get control of their breathing before starting to swim to reduce the risk of taking those involuntary gulps of air under water, which Outdoor Swimmer says “could be lethal.”
Sure, everybody jump right in! I'm good right here, watching.
Ice swimmers are in that frigid water to swim, not to jump in and jump out, like “polar bear plunges” to mark the New Year. This means more changes to their bodies once the shock wears off.
“Following the initial cooling of your skin, your muscles and nerves start to cool. If you stay in for long enough, this will eventually result in the loss of strength and coordination,” said Outdoor Swimmer. “Your arms are particularly susceptible to cooling, to the point where swimmers may not be able to coordinate a swimming action or effect a self-rescue in cold enough water.”
Did I mention ice swimming could be lethal?
I know about the IISA because of Ed Gabriels, a friend of mine. He and my boyfriend Trey Kay swim year-round at a lake near their homes in the Hudson Valley of New York. Trey wears a wetsuit, but Ed doesn’t. When the lake is covered in a skin of ice, Trey, protected from the jagged ice by his wetsuit, acts like an icebreaker and clears a path for Ed.
When Trey posts pictures of him and Ed at the lake with shards of ice floating around them, friends react with comments like “Wow, incredible!” or “This cold water swimming stuff is beyond my comprehension" or “You done froze your brain!!!”
At the IISA, Ed won bronze medals in the 50-meter backstroke, 100-meter backstroke, 100-meter freestyle, 250-meter freestyle, and the 500-meter freestyle.
Five hundred meters gives me pause. I swim at the indoor pool at Westlake’s Recreation Center. It takes me at least 15 minutes to swim that length. I imagine my hands and feet would freeze solid, snap off and sink to the bottom of the pool if I was swimming for 15 minutes in near-freezing water. And then there’s that literal brain-freeze effect that Outdoor Swimmer was so helpful to point out.
“For me, 500 meters is eight minutes,” super-fit Ed told me. That’s better than my time by half. But even that length of time in ice water is challenging.
“I was thinking, ‘I’m happy someone is counting my laps,’ because my brain was starting to second-guess how long I was in the water,” he said.
He said his worst experience while ice swimming was during a 200-meter race at the Memphremagog Winter Swimming Festival in Newport, Vermont. Ed said he was at the 125-meter spot, swimming in 30-degree lake water, when he accidentally swallowed a mouthful of it.
“It closed up my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I started coughing," Ed said. “I had the good sense to stop and get out of the water.”.
Many people would say folks like Ed and Trey lack good sense. Why do this? Why swim in such extreme conditions? What could possibly be enjoyable about it?
Trey tells me he likes the shock to his system. He gets a kick out of swimming the backstroke and watching how his warm exhalation freezes into tiny ice crystals that splinter the sunlight into the colors of a rainbow. He also likes the tingling sensation of his cold skin and muscles slowly warming up to their normal, 90+ degree temperature.
Ed does it because he likes pushing himself and seeing what he’s capable of.
“It makes me feel great, the thrill and the accomplishment of doing something extreme,” he said.
They inspired me to tell the story of a local ice swimmer, Claire Hilbers of Chagrin Falls.
Claire also participated in the International Ice Swimming Association World Championship last month. She and other winter swimming enthusiasts get together on Sunday afternoons for a weekly “polar plunge” cold-water adaptation dip in the Chagrin River.
I’ll be joining them this Sunday, but not to swim. I will be bundled up against the forecasted 32-degree temperature, admiring them from afar, tape recorder and microphone in a warm, gloved hand.
Listen for the story next week on Morning Edition, preferably in your warm, dry kitchen, where the coffee is 200 degrees Fahrenheit.
