First Day of the Year, First Cold Shower

I spent the day of January 1st psyching myself up for cold shower #1. I went for a nice, long walk with my wife and her parents, so I dressed lightly and tried to relax and breathe as the cold tried to tighten up my shoulders and back. After hours of walking and mental preparation, we got back to the apartment and I told my wife to grab the phone. It took me a while to figure out the temp control on the shower. I couldn't get the temp cold enough and couldn't believe how far I had to turn the knob! That might sound sort of stupid and corny, but we are creatures of habit and breaking out of the mental box of "this is how to temperature knob is" was met with resistance. If you get into the cold shower business, beware! You may also try to trick yourself. I had a very brief moment of relief when I thought to myself "Phew, I guess if the cold water isn't working that I'll just have to take a warm shower instead!" 

I had read somewhere online that the first minute sucks, the second minute sucks a little less, and that you have to push past three minutes to settle in to a cold shower. I had also read that the best way to start is to start with warm water, then crank the cold, then finish off with warm water. I disregarded both suggestions and opted for one solid minute of freezing hellfire as my objective. Unless you are some kind of meditation master, like a monk capable of lighting themself on fire and calmly sitting there, your first cold shower confronts you with a physical reality that is difficult to negotiate. I have found that when faced with pain, let's say from an ankle sprain, it is possible to breathe your way through it. Keep breathing, control the breath, and you can get enough space to experience the pain as a physical sensation without the hysteria that an injury typically induces. My expectation with the cold shower is that I would be able to fend off the shock by using a similar technique of controlled breathing. When I jumped under the stream, all of the air was forced out of my lungs immediately. I struggled to fill my lungs up again before my torso contracted, forcing the air out again. Then my abs began to involuntarily contract. Eventually, I was able to start taking some air in, but I was a far cry away from burning monk status. 

The goal was one minute, I lasted for about 1:20 or 1:30, mostly because I had to rinse the soap. A strange side effect was an imbalance in my face after the shower. I have done hyper-ventilating breathwork before, yogic breathing, and it had a similar effect. I had Bell's palsy as a child due to Lyme's Disease, and half of my face was paralyzed. I can't help but think there's a connection there. The right side of my face sort of scrunched up and took about ten minutes to return to its normal state. A couple of interesting side notes... I seem to be in the minority as someone with lingering symptoms of Bell's palsy more than twenty years after the initial event. My quick research on the condition just now also revealed a link between Bell's palsy and tinnitus, which is raging in my ears as I type this very sentence. Once my body settled down post-shower, I felt pretty damn good! My mood felt lifted and my body felt cool and warm at the same time, like natural Icy-Hot. I even caught myself thinking about my next cold shower!