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Plunging into the new year

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Sometimes, you just have to scream.

I found myself in such a situation on New Year's Day. It was mid-afternoon, and a handful of friends and I huddled around a campfire on the shore of Flathead Lake, marveling at the mountains in the distance and the occasional bald eagle soaring above the water. As the first sun of 2012 broke through the clouds, someone voiced a terrible idea.

Why not recreate the Polar Plunge held earlier at Riverside Park and jump in the lake?

“No way,” I thought. “Those people were crazy.”

I wasn't about to align myself with such madness. Even in August, I struggle with wading into the lake; I prefer jumping in so I don't have to suffer as long while I acclimate to the chilly water. There was nothing appealing about the idea. I didn't feel the need to prove that my body (and hopefully my mind) could survive a dunking in ice cold water. And the longer we sat by the nourishing glow of the fire, the colder the lake looked. Pondering the possibilities, I started to wonder what motivates people to strip down to their skivvies on a 28-degree day and go for a dip in 40-degree water. Is it for the pure thrill and the adrenaline rush that pulses through your veins when the first frigid drop contacts your skin? Is it for bragging rights, or perhaps a symbolic act of refreshing oneself along with the calendar?

I couldn't tell you. I can tell you that I'm glad I did it. That's right, as the sun began to set, we gathered a “plunge pile” of firewood and laid out our towels and dry clothes for easy access after the swim. As we danced around the fire to warm ourselves, a cry of “Let's go!” rang out.

That's when the screaming started.

Like a pack of clumsy, very loud ninjas, we yelled our war cries as we stumbled and slipped our way over the rocky, icy beach. I remember a split second of hesitation as I reached the water's edge, but when you're running full speed and shrieking like a banshee, it's hard to stop for anything. We splashed a few feet farther in, hollering all the while, before turning around to slip and slide over the rocks back to the fire. With the extra fuel we'd gathered, it didn't take long to get warm and dry around the raging blaze.

Beside the physical thrill of what I'd just done, I realized I was rather proud of myself. Anyone can jump in a cold lake; that wasn't the point. But on the first day of a new year, I tried something new and found it wasn't as bad as I expected - a truth I've been shown often in my 27 years. But there's nothing like an icy reminder to shock my brain into acknowledging, once again, that conquering my fears comes in all shapes and sizes. While I wouldn't rank swimming outdoors on New Year's Day among the things that scare me most, our mini Polar Plunge was definitely a challenge.

Here's to plunging into many more challenges this year, no matter how cold my feet may be.

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