When jumping into Lake Michigan in the middle of winter, always remember to wear proper footwear.
If I learned anything from participating in this weekend’s Celebration of Shrinkage, the Lakeview Polar Bear Club’s annual charity plunge into the lake, it is that walking barefoot on ice and snow is unbearably painful, no matter how unseasonably warm it is outside. Veteran plungers wore water shoes or sneakers as they bounded, squealing and cursing, into the lake. I, a first-timer, did not.
It was a gorgeously sunny 55 degrees on Saturday as more than 100 people gathered on Oak Street Beach for the plunge — perhaps not as impressive as diving in amid below-freezing temperatures, but no one was complaining.
I rolled up wearing only sweatpants and a sweatshirt over my white bikini (I know, not the wisest choice). Predictably, I forgot to bring a towel.
Moments before my watch ticked to noon, the crowd let loose a collective holler and charged into the lake. Strangely enough, I don’t remember the water itself being so bad — though that could be because my legs went immediately numb. The 20 seconds I spent in the lake were an exhilarating blur. The agony didn’t come until after I scrambled back onto the icy shore, my feet feeling like chicken with freezer burn, and lasted until I sat on a pile of snow and put on my sneakers.
My mom was stunned when I told her I’d be doing the plunge.
“Why on Earth would you do that?” she asked. “That’s so unlike you.”
Indeed. Maybe that’s why the February dip into the ice-cold lake was so enticing: It would test my limits, fulfill my New Year’s pledge to have no fear. If I could do this, I figured, I could do anything.
———-
aelejalderuiz@tribune.com
