The art of the plunge


Willing and brave subject John Westcrop shows a typical reaction when emerging from the cold plunge, considered a high art in itself by the hot tubbing community./Photo by David Halterman

by Jules Masterjohn

According to my totally tattered Webster’s New World Dictionary, one definition of “art” is “any specific skill or application.” My online dictionary adds a further nuance, describing art as “the skill or ability to do something well.” My personal definition offers a yet deeper look into art as an act or object that offers transcendent affect, altering one’s perception of his or herself, or the world.

Within this definition fall many endeavors, and creative output is clearly in the being of the beholder. Following this line of thinking, I have recently discovered the “art” of the plunge. Not the plunge of marriage or home ownership but rather a rapid and quick dip in 58-degree water.

Though I have known about the act of plunging for over half my life, I never fully appreciated the art of it while living in northern Minnesota, some 90 miles from the Canadian border. This cold and beautiful land is home to many of Scandinavian descent, thus a sauna near the edge of a lake is not an uncommon sight. For generations, many living in northern climes, where cold and wet are prevalent, have partaken in the long-held practice of sweating and plunging. We creative high schoolers modernized this tradition as a game of “Truth or Dare,” choosing to either reveal dark truths or plunge into the dark waters through a hole chipped into the ice. I never had the courage to take the plunge, preferring instead to tell the truth.

Thankfully, life is often gracious with us and, though it may take 30-plus years, we are allowed a second chance. My liberation from the self-imposed stigma of being a nonplunger, a gutless girl, was granted right here in Durango on busy College Drive, at Amaya Natural Therapeutics. It was there, recently, that years of regret were driven from my flesh as I took “the plunge.”

So excited by my newfound bravery and exhilarating experience, I asked Don Lewis, co-owner and therapist at Amaya, if I had plunged correctly. He reassured me that cold plunging is an individual thing and also suggested to get the full effect, one must go in at least to the neck. “I recommend that you stay a few seconds beyond what you think you can. I like to get right in and then wait a few seconds past what is comfortable,” he offered.

During those seemingly endless seconds in water a bit more than half the temperature of one’s body, what is physically taking place? I consulted Molly Anderson-Childers, a constitutional hydrotherapy technician at Namaste Health Center in Durango. “Hydrotherapy is used to trigger the basic healing mechanisms of the body. The cold contracts the capillaries and veins on the surface of the body, which drives the blood deep into the center of the body. Cold water contracts the muscles and in turn, stimulates the lymphatic system, pushing lymphatic fluid out, which moves toxins,” she said. “On an emotional level, the cold water is exciting and invigorating to the system: it wakes everything up.” She reinforced what those old Scandos have known for ages: that the use of contrasting temperatures in an alternating sequence produces the maximum healing affect on the body.

Water has been used in healing practices for more than 6,000 years. When, in the 1800s, a German farmer noticed the rapid healing effects of cold compresses on the injuries of his family, friends, neighbors and livestock, “hydrotherapy as a healing discipline was born.”

My personal practice, the art of which I have been developing for a mere few months, is based on creative visualization and intention rather than hard science. While the heat of the tub and sauna relax and open every pore of my body/mind, deeply held false beliefs are drawn to the surface of my being. Then comes the plunge into the dark waters, purging the demons of doubt and insecurity, bacteria and virus. With voracity they are expelled out of my body and onto College Drive, where they are sucked up into the engines of passing cars and carried away forever!

What is based on science is Amaya’s water purification process. Lewis reported that, although Durango water is great as far as municipalities go, by law, he is required to sanitize the tub water. To do that, they use salt, or sodium chloride, which through an electrolysis process, is transformed into sodium and chlorine. Once that action is completed, the chlorine reverts back to its natural state as salt. There is also an ionizer in the tub, which uses copper ions to inhibit or neutralize unwanted growths.

I usually head for the waters of Amaya during midday, when I frequently have the place to myself. One afternoon, I had a spa mate who witnessed my ritual demon-dispelling dunk. “How can you do that?” she inquired. “I can’t get in there. I love the steam from the sauna, though … it has really helped my skin. I confess to doing this for beauty.”

Whatever your motivation, or for those who are shy about the plunge, in my short practice, I have discovered a secret: the hotter you get, the less shocking the cold. So, go ahead, take the plunge! •