A Polar Bear Dip to Start the New Year
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I emerge from the car and step into the cool air and light rain. Above, the sky is overcast and from it, small droplets fall and dampen my clothes. Soon, I will be completely soaked. And this will be because of my own choosing rather than the rain. I will be entering Lake Ontario for the January 1st Toronto Polar Bear Dip fundraiser for Boost Child & Youth Advocacy Centre.
After signing in at a table on Sunnyside Beach, I walk along the shore waiting for my friends to arrive. There is a growing crowd of people here, and the energy in the air is high and restless. There are people jumping up and down to stay warm; laughing and cheering; and running around to pose for photos with various backgrounds and a person dressed in a polar bear costume. I am also doing these pre-dip activities and contributing to the restless energy in the air.
Three years ago, I came to this beach to do the January 1st polar bear dip for the first time. That day, the dip happened quickly. I ran into the lake until the water reached my torso, and then I ran out with the main crowd. I did not take a moment to pause, observe all my feelings and surroundings, and dunk my full body into the water. This year’s event was the first polar bear dip since that pre-pandemic time. As a pledge to take more pauses and be more present to experience moments more fully this year, I challenged myself to do all those things that I missed doing during my first dip.
My friends begin to arrive. When I see them, I yell out their names, run over, and wrap my arms around them. They are a source of comfort in this event lying outside of my comfort zone. The countdown to the dip feels more real, more fun, and more exciting, in their presences.
When it is under ten minutes until 12:00 PM, we take off our layers until we are in dip attire. For me, this is a one piece and wool socks under water shoes. During my first dip three years ago, the icy water bit at my toes until the cold burn took over all other feelings. I learned that wool socks under water shoes helped with that.
Cheers grow loud and people charge into the lake. My friends and I join the crowd and run with our arms up. As we run, the winter waters engulf and numb our feet and legs. There is a cold burning sensation beginning to ring through my lower body. I keep running and the water level rises until I stand with the lake at my torso. It was at this point when I ran back to shore the last time I did the dip.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and focus my attention on feeling calm. When I open my eyes and turn towards the shore, I see that there are fewer people in the water now. It is time to experience the polar bear dip fully. With my friend on my left, I take one more breath in and submerge my whole body into the lake.
In this brief underwater moment, I am fully present and observe the silence and cold. My heart beats quickly, and my state of feeling calm is replaced with disbelief. I cannot believe I fully submerged myself. I do one breaststroke and jump up.
When I get back to shore, the group’s adrenaline remains high. My friends and I high-five, laugh, and briefly debrief how we are feeling. Then we decide to go into the lake again–this time, for a video that we can hold onto. We hype each other up, face the water, and sprint back into the now less-daunting lake. With a group countdown, we submerge together.
When we get back on shore for the second time, the outside air feels warm relative to the water. My body feels warm, a sort of numbness. I look at my friends and the feeling of warmth grows inside. We came to this beach to celebrate the first day of the new year together. We shared this thrilling “I cannot believe we are doing this” and “we are crazy for this” experience.
And it was fun and incredible. It was a memory that I will always cherish and be grateful for, a nice way to commemorate the new year.
So here is to more exciting experiences this year. To more good times with friends. And to taking more pauses and being more present in 2023.
