So as you may have read, Ms. Phelony put a bleg up in an effort to gather some folk to do the polar bear plunge at Bradford beach today.  She wrote about the experience afterwards here.  As for me?  I can't say that I was jumping up and down in excitement over the idea, but I was a willing participant.  After all, I lived in California and used to foolishly swim in the Pacific Ocean without a wetsuit when I was younger.  The Pacific gets into the low 50's in the winter, which is pretty chilly.  As it turns out, the low 50's is like a sauna compared to what Lake Michigan is like even during a warm winter.

As I approached Bradford, I was surprised by how busy it was.  Parking was difficult to find, and there was a huge crowd.  Phel is not exaggerating when she says it numbered in the thousands.  Of course the kicker is that the majority of the folks there weren't going in the water (wimps!).  I suppose the fact that the air temperature was in the 40's made people think (like I did), "Well, if I'm going to do this, then this is going to be the best day."  While Aaron and some folks also came down, because of the crowd, we weren't able to find each other.

So after stripping down to swim suits, and jumping up and down to warm up and get the adrenaline rushing... we saw a bunch of people start diving in, so we went in right after them.  The water is cold... 37 degrees to be exact... and that drains your energy very quickly.  After going in to our waists, we were pretty much as far out as we wanted to be.  But, in order to be official, you have to have complete submersion.  Phel was not excited about this.  So I counted out... 1, 2, 3 and we both dunked under.  Shock would be the word dejur... and what's worse is having the chilly air hit your wet skin as soon as you pop back up out of the water.

That was enough for us, so we turned back for shore and started running.  Of course, by running, I mean trying to force your legs to lift up and move forward at some sort of speed, because my legs felt like bricks.  Phel was obviously having the same problem and was grabbing onto me for support, and we tried as best we could to high step it out of the water.  It was at this point that I looked to our right and saw something rather horrifying... a rather unattractive, overweight, completely naked man heading into the water.  That's when I turned to Phel and said, "Whatever you do, don't look to your right."  As soon as I said that, I was sorry I did.  I feared this would be like telling someone on a foot bridge not to look down... because that's the first thing they'll do.  Luckily for Phel, she's a smart girl, and was saved the visual punishment I went through.  Excuse me for a moment while I scrub my brain with bleach.

OK, I'm back.  Anyway, once you make it out of the water, you realize that you're running on the sand, yet can't feel your toes or the bottoms of your feet.  Then it's pretty much a race to grab your towel, dry off, and start putting on clothes.  The smartest thing I brought was wool socks.  Mmmmm... wool socks.  You shiver, you shake, you jump up and down to get your blood flowing... and then you wander back to your car... strangely energized... and yet simultaneously sapped of energy.

Update:  Aaron has some video posted of his tromp into the water with his buddies.  I call it a "tromp" because he only went in about waist deep, and never got his head wet.  Of course, by the official rules of Polar Bear Plunge, this makes his outing null and void, and it does not count, which means he froze his parts for nothing.  Too bad Aaron... better luck next year.