What ice water dips taught me about comfort zones

It was brief. Shoes off, spin round, take the three metals steps to then enter the water and slowly submerge to neck height, hands clasped above water level as if we were praying. A few breaths. In and straight back out. Hearts pounding, bodies buzzing, a mixture of disbelief and exhilaration as we ran back to the comfort of the sauna. 

But then something interesting happened.

Every night for a whole week, we returned to the same end of the day rhythm: heat, cold, breath, presence. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, our comfort zone expanded.

What felt overwhelming on day one became familiar by day three. By the final days of the trip, we were waking up and choosing to run across the snow first thing in the morning, dipping into the ice without drama, without rushing back to the sauna afterwards. Just standing there, breathing, noticing the moonlight, the snow, the light on the snow, the snow in the trees, everything felt awe-some. We were amazed at how calm and clear everything felt.

Nothing about the conditions changed. The water was still ice-cold. The snow was still deep. The night air still sharp.

What changed was us.

And that’s where the real shift happened.

Cold exposure has a way of stripping everything back. There’s no space for distraction, overthinking or self-judgement. You are simply there, completely naked figuratively and literally in our case. Breathing. Feeling. Responding. It teaches you, very quickly, that you can stay present inside discomfort and that discomfort is rarely as dangerous as the mind suggests.

Since coming home, I’ve noticed how different cold water swimming in the UK feels. What once required a long mental negotiation now feels accessible, even welcoming. Not because the water is warmer, but because something internally has changed. My nervous system recognises the experience. There’s trust now.

This is why cold water features so intentionally in our retreats. Not as a test, not as something to “push through”, but as an invitation. An invitation to meet yourself honestly. To witness how quickly the edges of your comfort zone can move when you approach them with care, support and beauty.

As we head towards our cold water retreat in February, I keep thinking back to that frozen well in Finland, and to how quietly transformational those moments were. Sometimes it’s not the grand gestures that change us, it’s the simple decision to step in, breathe, and stay present for a few seconds longer than last time.

And before you know it, you’re standing somewhere you never thought you’d be comfortable… feeling calm, capable, and deeply alive.

And that, for me, is the gift of practices like cold water immersion. They don’t just toughen us up, they soften our resistance. They show us, in a very embodied way, that we can meet intensity with steadiness, fear with breath, and challenge with curiosity.

Another thing it gives, is a feeling of doing something out of the ordinary. As a mum of three young children, my time is not my own and I don't feel half as adventurous as I was pre children but when I cold water dip or swim I feel like I am doing something truly wild and awesome.