Tara yelled, and on “Go!” I flung my sixty-year-old body into the air—bare arms raised, palms to the sky, bare legs kicked up behind me, off the Zodiac’s platform. I felt the little ruffles of my bathing suit flutter in the twenty-milean-hour wind and watched the, an overused expression, was entirely apt when, on that thirty-six-degree day, the thirty-four-degree water closed darkly over my head. It seemed at first I would never breathe again, but then I was clawing back toward the surface, back to the boat, as alive in every cell as I had ever been.
Polar Plunge
May 30, 2023
2 minutes
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