Owen said his record was three minutes. I had known him for nine. Already I wanted to beat him, which is a fairly embarrassing thing to admit about a stranger in sandals.
My watch was ready. I had read a cold-plunge schedule on the streetcar, underneath a photograph of somebody's abdomen. The abdomen seemed very confident.
"But I run," I said, unhelpfully.
The attendant asked whether it was my first plunge. Yes. Any health concerns? I mentioned running, as though that answered the question.
She went through the screening anyway. Then the handhold, the steps and the exit. She would stay beside me. No jumping in, no head dunk, no breath-holding. I nodded with the expression of a man receiving instructions he absolutely needs.
After the sauna I rested and had water. Owen sat on a bench, not watching. This annoyed me. I had cast him in a major role.
My lungs declined the schedule.
I entered slowly, holding the rail. The cold reached my legs and I made a noise I hope the room has forgotten. My breathing sped up. My watch lit up. Suddenly I was trying to impress a rectangle.
"I want to get out."
"Of course."
I used the exit we had just practised. Sat down. Wrapped up. My watch asked whether I wanted to save the activity. Absolutely not.
The attendant checked on me. I did not go back in. Later I learned that sudden cold can trigger an involuntary gasp and rapid breathing. Being fit does not give you an exemption. I had mistaken a body response for a disappointing personality.
Owen had left something out.
"My first time, I just stood on the steps," he said.
Excellent. Crucial information, delivered twelve minutes late.
His three-minute story was from another pool, months ago. Different water. Different day. We had been comparing two numbers with almost nothing else in common.
We talked about dumplings. He gave me an address. I got dressed, dumped my damp gear on the bench and took a photo of my watch lying face down. It looked suitably unemployed.
On the streetcar, the watch asked me to close a ring. I opened the dumpling menu instead.
Notes behind the story 02
Story details
First-person account ·



