Since I was a little girl, I looked forward to the days when I could don my favorite swimsuit and hit the beach, lake, river. Just about any body of water would do.
During the years my mom, sister, and I lived in North Idaho, I spent most of my summer waking hours submerged beneath the placid viridian waters of the St. Maries River. With friends, we swam with suckers, craw dads, and the occasional trout. Pretending I was a mermaid, I fervently wished I would magically be transformed into a dolphin so I could live in the water forever.
Never in all my fantasies did I imagine myself as a polar bear or dream of dog paddling among icebergs.
But who hasn’t, at some point in their life, wanted to do a polar plunge, swimming in the dead of winter?
Not only were they right about it being exhilarating and only temporarily uncomfortable (the feeling in my toes came back in less than an hour), but it was empowering to go with a fun group of wild ladies.
The endorphin rush kept me hopped up on HAPPY for hours afterwards, and the tea – don’t get me started on the tea. Homemade chai, steeped with love, with a generous dollop of syrupy sweet honey in a piping hot thermos.
No drink has ever tasted so good.
Not even coffee.
Not even alcohol.
I debated about pouring the cupful over my block-like frozen toes, but it just tasted too good.