Cold plunges and daughters

7/1/2026

“Dad, you’ll love the sauna. And then we’ll do the cold plunge.”

She smiles at me and nods up and down waiting for me to mirror her. 

Yup, that’s how you talk to your ancient dad: slow with lots of nodding and guidance.

And, if you didn’t know, a “cold plunge” is exactly that — a dunk in frigid water. Now doesn’t that sell itself?

So, “no” to the cold plunge.

My 36-year-old daughter and I have a complicated relationship. When she was 4 years old, she wanted a gigantic stuffed dog. I told her she didn’t have enough space in her bed to keep a gigantic stuffed dog. So Lucy the giant stuffed dog came to stay. Go figure.

My daughter was 8 years old and wanted to take her stuffed dogs — 45 of them — on the family vacation. We couldn’t bring 45 stuffed dogs, three kids, five bikes, two kayaks, six suitcases and a fed-up wife in a single car on vacation. There was no room for stuffed dogs. Surprisingly, folks, you’ll be happy to know it is possible to get eight stuffed dogs into an old Toyota van with no air conditioning on a hot summer day. Easy peasy. 

My daughter was 12 and wanted a real dog. You guessed it. I said no for all the right reasons — and, believe it or not, we soon had Mickey, a 130-pound lab, as the newest member of our family.

See what I mean?

So, in preparation for the cold plunge, I wade into the sea near my daughter’s home in Ireland. It is cold — not as cold as a cold plunge (50 to 59 degrees), but cold. I am pretty much alone in the water except for two young boys who are leaping over the waves, laughing uproariously, and swimming underwater like sleek minnows. I blame joy for making them impervious to the cold. 

Not me. First, I am more of a whale than a minnow. And, second, I have a slippery grasp on joy while freezing. As a result, I don’t go into the water much past my ankles. Brrrrrr. This is crazy. Who does a cold plunge?

Well, cold plunges are certainly the craze. Even here in Des Moines, there are multiple opportunities to go to clubs that provide cold plunges among all their offerings. Or you can even go to a pop-up sauna with a cold plunge at Water Works Park. And, look — you can buy your own cold-plunge container from Target. My goodness, what happened to the popularity of the beanbag chair?

Although, I do love the promos: “sleep deeper,” “feel clearer,” “have more energy for everything else.” It sounds a little like snake-oil to me. But —

“Research indicates that icy water may have a positive effect on recovery after exercise by reducing inflammation and soreness.” This is according to Mayo Clinic. “It also may help build resiliency, restore balance to the nervous system and improve cognitive function and mood.”

Are you kidding me? 

And the Stoic philosopher Ryan Holiday argues that you really do a cold plunge to tell your body who’s in charge. The muscle you are growing, according to Holiday, is a mental muscle. By jumping into the cold plunge you are saying, “I can do hard things.”

Hah! Ms. Gellar, the first-grade teacher I follow on Instagram, has her students start their  day by saying “I can do hard things.” Great. Although I personally like the next affirmation — “I can make mistakes.” A cold plunge sounds like a mistake to me.

Here we are in a sauna overlooking the Irish Sea.

The young woman sitting to my left in this communal sauna says she’s always done cold plunges. She loves them. She thinks she will keep on doing them even when she’s an old lady in her 60s. I inform her I’m nearly 72. My daughter on the seat across laughs delightedly at me.

When I have sweated all I can sweat, I shower off and walk over to the cold plunge.

My daughter waves encouragingly.

I make it into the cold plunge as far as my waist — perhaps for as long as 5 seconds. I then get out of the water and walk nonchalantly back into the sauna.

“Well, that was nothing,” I say to my daughter, as I wipe away a tear caused by the wind.

Here’s what I learned from my first dip: Cold plunges must have been the inspiration for Edvard Munch and his painting — “The Scream.” It makes total sense. 

After again warming up in the sauna, I try round two with the cold plunge. This time the young woman in the sauna is my partner in the adjacent cold plunge. She takes charge.

“Inhale, one two three. Exhale, one two three. That’s it. Submerge your head. There you go. Let’s do a minute. Inhale, one two three. Exhale, one two three. Perfect.”

And we do a minute.

I am shocked to admit — I love it.  It is exhilarating. It is thrilling. It is a delight. I’m totally hooked on cold plunges. They are just fun.  

And the lesson learned?

Well … just as the philosopher Ryan Holiday says, by doing the cold plunge I tell my body who’s in charge.

And, yup, that would be my daughter. ♦

Joe Weeg spent 31 years bumping around this town as a prosecutor for the Polk County Attorney’s Office. Now retired, he writes about the frequently overlooked people, places and events in Des Moines on his blog: www.joesneighborhood.com.