I Finally Tried an Ice Bath, and It Totally Banished My Anxiety
A few weeks ago, I tried something new: a guided hot sauna experience followed by a guided ice bath experience. The experience was hosted by a brand-new sauna and ice bath studio called Othership. Ice baths are just about everywhere right now. While cold plunges are nothing new, they’ve become something of a wellness trend among fitness influencers, CEOs, and celebrities.
While the evidence on the health benefits of the ice bath is still being researched, and is generally mixed on whether or not the health benefits are as significant as influencers might say, research suggests cold water is good for helping recover sore and tired muscles, and some research says it can improve your mood and help you de-stress. No matter how I found the experience, it would be totally new to me. I had no idea what to expect.
It was for that reason — and for some others, including running a little bit late, going to the event alone, and some wedding planning stress — that I walked into the experience a little bit on edge. I’m someone who has been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder or two, so I’m no stranger to that feeling, and am more than capable of dealing with it. But I walked in a little uneven, and I knew it.
When our group was called up to hit the ice bath section after our sauna, we were told by our guide to make sure that, when we hit the water, we breathe.
We were directed to the cold tub room. I stood next to someone — a stranger — and learned that we would plunge in the tub three times, for 30 seconds a plunge, with 10 second breaks in between. If we only got up to our shins, we were told, that would be okay. If we needed to yell, that was okay. But above all else, we had to focus on our breath.
For the first plunge, I only stepped in the pool, the water just up to my shins. My pool partner, on the other hand, hopped right in. I thought, if she could do it, so could I. For the second plunge, I did as she did — got right up to my shoulders — and let the ice cold water take over.
It was then that I understood what the instructor was talking about. I felt the air disappear out of my lungs. I could die in here, I thought for half a second, hilariously. I knew I wasn’t going to die, but dang! This felt unreal!
After a few seconds of feeling totally overwhelmed, I forced myself to take my first raggedy breath, halfway, then out, then a deep one, then out and in again. I felt time slow down, and the water burned, but I was present, and in control.
Thirty seconds were up. We had our 10 seconds of rest, and hopped right back in. At the end of those third and final 30 seconds, I rolled out of the cold tub, legs numb, skin prickling as the blood returned to my limbs, feeling like I could run through a wall. That vague, indefinable, heavy anxiety that I was feeling when I walked in had totally disappeared. I felt alert, awake, and simply better.
I’m not surprised by that. In my years of working in wellness journalism, I knew the many extolled virtues of ice plunges and the Wim Hof method. But I had never experienced it myself, and breathing through that instant and total physical shock instantly reminded me of how I dealt with panic attacks. The main difference was that usually after a panic attack, or after avoiding one, I might feel a little tired and run-down. But I felt totally the opposite with this experience.
The experience got me thinking — how could I inject this experience into my daily life? How could I find that mental clarity every day? Was I about to become a cold plunge person?
I don’t have a gym membership (I work out at home) nor do I have space for a set-aside cold tub (I live in an apartment in Brooklyn with a small deck.) Nor can I, frankly, afford a membership at Othership. But over the past few weeks, after taking a warm shower, I turn the water to ice cold and sit under it for 5, 10, 30 seconds at a time.
I haven’t yet filled my tub with cold water and ice, but I’ve thought about it. I figure one of my “life goals” will be having the space (and money) to buy a plunge tub. And occasionally, when I feel like splurging, I could drop in to a nice gym with a cold plunge and give myself some zesty zen.