A fun story about swimming in frozen lakes

Where I live, there are two kinds of people: people who love hot summers and spend them sunbathing and becoming burnt sausages in the process; and people who voluntarily swim in frozen lakes in the dead of winter. (They cut a hole through the ice - there's liquid water underneath.)

So one Sunday last January, when it was negative 26 degrees centigrade to be precise, my husband and I decided that it was the perfect day to go swimming. We drove to a lake nearby and were pleased to see that someone had already cut a large hole in the icy surface, saving us the trouble. We approached the pier in our bathing suits and greeted a man who was already in the hole. He wasn't swimming; he looked like he was just standing in place. We asked him how long he had already been there.

"About fifteen minutes," he replied nonchalantly.

So I guess this was his equivalent of the cold plunge trend, except that the water was definitely colder than the 60 degrees Fahrenheit that Americans use (the water in frozen lakes is about 35 F) and he was there longer than any American plunger ever.

I'd say that's hardcore.

Also, compared to him, I have zero bragging rights (I climbed the ladder down into the water, swam a small circle, and got the hell out of there).

RK out.