I’m a little embarrassed to say this… but I pushed too far… Twice.

I gave myself frostbite. A mild case. You may call it “frost nip”.  I don’t even think I knew I did it at the time, but a week or two later, the skin peeled off a few of my toes. 

Sorry for the “gross” picture, but I find this fascinating. 

A little skin was not such a big deal.

However, I felt dismayed because I spend a lot of time building the calluses and toughness in my feet, and now I’m left with this really soft, new, but delicate skin. I guess I’ll have to build it up again. 

How did this happen? 

I am really into cold immersion and the Wim Hof Method: cold showers, swimming in lakes and streams in the winter, laying in the snow with my bare skin, or just hiking with minimal covering in colder temperatures. I find it exhilarating.

Plus, it seems to have a host of benefits such as: 

• Alleviating anxiety and depression

• “Toning” your circulatory system

• Relieving stress and inflammation

• Boosting the immune system

• Psychologically, it helps you overcome fears and perceived limitations

Most of all, just like the practice of movement builds the skills and adaptations to become capable of moving through physical situations or obstacles in the environment, the practice of cold immersion builds the ability to move through temperature variations in the environment. 

I like to think it allows me to stay outside longer if I’m doing something like hiking or skiing in the snow, as well as giving me the confidence to be able to swim in a lake or river whereas before I may have held back due to fear of the cold. 

In other words, it’s one more adaptive tool that gives me the freedom to go anywhere! 

But there are limits. 

I was hiking on a day with a couple inches of snow on the ground. I had tested hiking barefoot in the snow with shorter distances before, but this time I decided to go a little farther and went about 2 miles. I felt like I acclimated to the cold pretty well and it felt good to hike and run through the forest in the snow with my bare feet. 

But tissues can freeze and get damaged. I must have pushed a little too far which led to my skin peeling off a couple weeks later. 

I felt chastened. 

But again, recently, I was hiking on a cold, but beautiful, sun shiny day in the snow. I felt the urge to test myself again. So, I put my shirt and my shoes into my backpack and ran barefoot for a little over a half a mile. Feeling the cold air on my skin and the snow under my feet, I told myself I was “taking it easy”, I could stop anytime, and that I’d put my shoes back on if I started to feel too uncomfortable. It felt exhilarating and fun. 

But the damage was done. 

By the time I got home and my feet had started to thaw out, the pain was excruciating. It felt like I had walked over hot coals. By the next day, blisters had formed on a few of my toes. 

I’m healing and I’m certain, after I lose a layer of skin, that my feet will be fine. But these incidents have me thinking: 

What are the body’s limits? 

• Can I train my feet to stay warm and healthy in the snow? Or is that ludicrous? 

• Where is the line between pushing your boundaries for a positive adaptive response vs. ignoring your present limits and doing harm to yourself? 

• What would happen if I didn’t take risks like this? What if I allowed my body to stay comfortable? 

• Am I still glorifying extreme physical feats for their own sake? Or am I following an authentic, intrinsic desire to move freely?

• And finally, do activities seem extreme simply because those without experience don’t understand how to adapt and practice for them? Or are certain activities only for the dare devil/ adrenaline junkies who seek the high of experiences with little regard to the damage they may do to their bodies?

What I do know is this: 

In order to stay healthy, get stronger, and adapt to a wider range of environmental conditions, the body needs a certain amount of “eustress” - that is “good” stress because it touches on the boundaries of current capabilities and sends the signal to the body to adapt in a positive way. 

Both chronic stress and too great a load all at once on the body can result in a breakdown of our tissues and immune system or may cause injury. Also, no stress at all (ie: no movement or exercise) also causes a breakdown of all our systems. There’s a saying that any part of your body that doesn’t get regular movement is slowly dying on a cellular level. 

So, knowing the right balance for your body at this present moment is key for your health. 

This is also true on a psychological level. According to studies on “flow” state, as written about by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, peak experience, optimal performance, and the greatest present moment awareness are often achieved when we’re engaged in something that’s just at the border of our abilities. If it’s too hard we get frustrated. If it’s too easy we get bored. 

I also know that our bodies, emotions, and senses make up the gauge- our internal compass- that provides the feedback telling us whether whatever we’re doing is right or wrong for us in the moment. The body is extremely intelligent and is said to be processing vastly greater amounts of information than the conscious mind in any given moment. 

The trick is to know how to listen to and interpret the language the body is speaking. 

Generally in our society, we have been acculturated to ignore the body’s signals as our society has glorified the intellect. Learning the language of the body takes practice and time and sometimes some professional help: whether that be from a bodyworker, therapist, or coach. 

But a great way to attune to your body’s signals is to spend some time listening. Just become aware of the sensations arising, let them be as they are, and allow whatever knowing about their meaning to emerge without overthinking or analyzing. 

However, there’s a catch with cold immersion: if you push too far, those sensations in your body go numb. And you won’t be able to determine what your body is trying to tell you. 

I wonder, is there a similarity with other aspects of our lives as well? Have we pushed too far and gone numb to our body’s signals? 

I talked about my frost bite experience with a friend recently and he brought up an interesting point: What’s the benefit versus the risk involved? If you practice adapting to extreme cold maybe you’ll be able to withstand cold temperatures in an emergency when it’s needed for a couple extra minutes, but if you push too far you could do some serious damage and even lose parts of your body. Is it worth it? 

I had to ponder this for a bit. 

Later it occurred to me: My main intention with cold immersion is not to train for an extreme event or emergency condition, but rather to extend the amount of enjoyment I experience in moderate circumstances and in daily life. Sure I’d like to think I could survive better in an emergency, but mainly, I believe training in the cold allows me to be in the realm of “eustress” and “the flow state” longer and through a wider variety of circumstances when I’m walking, hiking, swimming, skiing, scuba diving, or wherever life takes me. 

Plus, it seems to me that the risk of doing many activities is quite great if you’re not skilled at it. Skiing, scuba diving, climbing, outdoorsmanship, marathon running, and even driving are a few examples of activities that, if done recklessly, could lead to death. But, we do them anyway for the euphoria, sense of wonder and freedom that they bring. 

The process I’m reflecting on now is this: 

• Attune to your body

• Know your intentions

• Test your boundaries but respect them.

• Seek the joy of your experience

• Repeat