The Ice Bath Experiment
I’ve discussed cold water swimming previously on this website with a running series on my monthly cold water wild swims.
However, In light of my current marathon training, and continued belief in cold water therapy, I have decided to add another staple to my cold water diet. Starting today I will be implementing regular cold water baths into my routine.
The benefits associated with“wild” cold water swimming are huge and go far beyond the metric of temperature. Most significantly, being exposed to the outdoors and natural environment is one of the biggest benefits in my view. Nevertheless, I am intrigued to see the benefits of increased cold water exposure and to be able to more consistently measure the impacts in a more standardised methodology.
This experiment will act partly as a data collection exercise, with precise temperature, heart rate and time in the water being recorded.
Ice Bath 1
Key Stats
- Date: 19/03/2022
- Temperature: 12 degrees Celsius
- Time in water: 12:37
- Max heart rate: 124 bpm
- Min heart rate: 60 bpm
- Average heart rate: 73 bpm
Experience
I’ll start by apologising for the length of this experiment report. I had no intention of writing such a long breakdown of the first cold bath. However, the experience was a lot more surprising and profound than I anticipated so I found I had a lot to say.
Expectation
My expectations before this first-ever cold bath were that I would first experience a cold shock with high heart rate and heavy breathing. Following this, the experience would progress to a state where my breathing was under control and I felt a buzz from the cold water but still be relatively uncomfortable. Upon getting out I was expecting the usual euphoric state accompanied by cold wild swimming, perhaps to a far lesser degree owing to the clinical conditions and more ambient water temperature.
I assumed that the main output of this would be to record how my heart rate and time in the water would develop over the coming weeks as I increased my exposure to cold water.
Phase 1: Fight or Flight
To a degree, my expectation was met. As can be seen by the heart rate graph, when I stepped into the bath I was in that high adrenaline phase; fast breathing, heart pumping, fight or flight instincts kicking in. Despite the temperature only being 12 degrees Celsius, the reaction from my body was the nearly same as when I have gone into 4-degree C water.
I didn’t want to be there and I was fighting hard to keep myself from giving up. Predicting that this high-energy state would be required to make it past the first stage, I made use of the privacy of my home and blasted out some adrenaline-inducing music to hype me up for my battle with the cold. This phase lasted between 30 seconds – 1 minute.
Phase 2: A Battle of Will
As expected, once I was able to get my breathing under control my heart rate dropped drastically and the pain started to ease a bit. The next 4 minutes or so consisted of getting my breathing to remain steady and just grimacing through the general uncomfortableness.
The 4 spikes in heart rate across the session (see graph above) align roughly with me moving my position to allow my head/shoulders -> legs to be fully immersed in the water in rotation, meaning that I had a new wave of minor cold shock every now and then. (I have marked these with red dots on the graph – note that the accuracy of the watch used could be questioned here and any in-depth analysis should be taken with a healthy pinch of scepticism)
What was clear during this phase was that whilst I had steadied my breathing and the pain had lessened, I was still uncomfortable and constantly checking my watch, debating how long I needed to stay in for.
Getting through Phase 1 was a clear milestone which I needed to pass. However, Phase 2 felt undefined and endless.
How long was enough to make the experiment worthwhile?
I had proved to myself by getting through the shock period that I had overcome any immediate physiological need to get out of the water. What I was fighting now was a battle of will. A test to see if I could endure past an undefined and irrelevant time period.
Looking down at my watch I decided that when the timer hit 5-minutes that would be enough
Phase 3:
5 minutes came and went but I remained in the water. I had found that the uncomfortable waiting feeling had progressed into a new state. A state of calm.
Recognising this new state, I turned off the loud music, which by this point felt completely unfitting with the situation. The silence brought with it an amplification of sensation to me as I lay in the cold water.
I looked at my watch for the penultimate time at around 7 minutes and evaluated that 10 minutes was sufficient time to endure what was still a slightly unpleasant, but improving, experience.
However, as the minutes continued, and the cold silence impressed further onto me, the calmness only strengthened. I am someone whose mind races constantly with distracting thoughts and ideas all scrambling to be overhead. I cannot tell you that this calm state was able to silence all those thoughts. However, I definitely felt that I entered what I suppose some may call a “meditative” state. A state where I was able to quiet and slow the rushing thoughts and be far more present. I was no longer counting the minutes. I lay there with my eyes closed, breathing mindfully as I became fully accustomed to the water.
Hesitantly, I’d be tempted to suggest that this peak meditative state is reflective of the latest section in the HR profile towards the last few mins. It should be noted that there will have been an element of the water warming from my body heat combined with a layer of water coating my body which allowed me to stay warmer. However, the cold was still very notable, except it was not in my present focus.
Conclusions
This experience has been quite significantly different to previous cold wild swims and I think that that can be a result of the privacy and safety of the setting. I didn’t need to be aware of my surroundings. I was able to just truly switch off. In doing so, I was able to reach a feeling that I have rarely been able to tap into.
I do not meditate. However, this experience has made me wonder if there’s value in “cold water meditation”. In a short ~13 minutes I was able to experience a feeling of fear and high adrenaline, followed by an active battle of will and control of my body. Lastly, I was gifted with a mechanism which allows me to tap into a highly enriching meditative state.
My takeaway from this is: If you are going to attempt some meditation, why not try using a cold bath to help facilitate and unlock that elusive state? I am excited to start embedding this into my normal routine and investigate the benefits
Set-up: I filled my bath with cold water and managed to drop the temperature further by filling the bath with ice packs and frozen bottles of water – although I do appreciate it looks a bit odd…