Day 2 of Cold Plunging Every Day: The Power of Doing Less

I used to be very rigid with my routines.

Discipline over everything was my approach.

If I didn’t get to the 5:30 a.m. class at the gym every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday— or if I didn’t run every mile of my training plan, or meet every writing target I’d set for myself at exactly the time I’d hoped to reach it— then I had failed.

Discipline is a very helpful tool, don’t get me wrong.

But I think having a flexible approach— an adaptable approach, a deep sense of resilience within— is a better way.

When I stay adaptable, I can work with the ups and downs of life without feeling stuck. When resilience is the goal above discipline or rigidity, I create systems that are sustainable rather than driven by short bursts of productivity. I can bounce back even if things don’t go as planned.

I was reminded of this yesterday at my bath house visit to Glow SLC. (This week, I’m visiting the bath house every day to do sauna and cold plunge as a way to clear my energy and prioritize rest.)

Normally when I go, I do three rounds and it ends up looking something like this:

Round 1

• 15-25 minutes in the sauna

• Rinse in the rainfall shower

• 4-5 minutes in the cold plunge

• Sit for 5 minutes to let my body recalibrate

• 2-5 minutes in the warm pool (body temperature)

Round 2:

• 15-20 minutes in the steam room

• Rinse in the rainfall shower

• 3-4 minutes in the cold plunge

• Sit for 5 minutes to let my body recalibrate

• 2-5 minutes in the warm pool (body temperature)

Round 3

• 15-20 minutes in the sauna

• Rinse in the rainfall shower

• 2-4 minutes in the cold plunge

• Sit for 5 minutes to let my body recalibrate

• 2-5 minutes in the warm pool (body temperature)

But yesterday, one round felt like enough.

The heat of the sauna felt really hot. I felt like my body was releasing anger. I got the intensity I needed in just 25 minutes of the heat.

Then when I transitioned to the cold plunge, it felt really cold. I felt resistance, and almost immediately wanted to get out. I’ve been challenging myself lately to submerge all the way under water, which is not fun to me, although after dunking I do feel more acclimated.

Anyway, yesterday I did a single sauna session and a single cold plunge, then went to relax in the warming pool and realized, that was it for the day. One round was enough. I didn’t feel the need to move through three rounds like I usually do.

I stayed in the relaxing pool, sitting for a few minutes with my head and shoulders under the waterfall, and staring out the gorgeous window to watch the reflection of the sky on the water ripple and shimmer.

One thing that I adore about Glow is that they have this lounging pool, which feels like a spa when you get into it.

The lounging pool is a place where I can relax without needing to do anything at all. There’s no intensity required. No hot hot heat, no freezing cold, it’s just mild and relaxing and neutral. It’s totally peaceful.

In that moment yesterday, I just wanted to chill.

This experience was my reminder of the power of doing less.

And the power of being able to read my own energy and understand my own needs moment by moment in my life.

I’ve come a long way with this in the last few years. I used to operate from a more fixed mindset— that if I set a goal to do something, I would see it through no matter what, regardless of how my body was feeling.

If plans were on my calendar, I’d do them, regardless of whether I needed rest or was dreading them the day of.

Now, I operate in a more fluid way.

If my body is telling me no, don’t do that, 9.5 times out of 10, I don’t do it. Granted, there are days where I have to show up and do things I don’t feel like doing. Life is like that sometimes. Adulting is a reality for all of us— we have to do things like grocery shop, do the laundry and dishes, pay the bills, take care of appointments, show up for work, meet deadlines, show up for family and friends, etc.

But it amazes me how many people do a lot of things week after week that they don’t actually want to do.

They force themselves.

They spend time doing things they despise, but feel obligated to do— whether it’s little daily things like attend a party or work get together, or it’s something more significant like going into a career they don’t actually want to go into, or being in a relationship that isn’t healthy, or chasing dreams that a parent gave to them.

Honestly?

I used to be one of those people.

I gave my energy away to things that didn’t fulfill me. I was in relationships I knew deep down weren’t quite right for me, but some insecure part of me wanted the attention, or felt like in order to be “good enough,” I needed to be in partnership.

I forced myself to do things because I thought I “should.”

Hell, I followed the standard high-achieving path of doing well in school, getting into a prestigious college, getting my degree in four years, and getting married young.

And then my body pushed back, things fell apart, and I slid into a deep depression, feeling like a failure.

I had moments of not being the “good girl” any more, after years of doing what everyone else expected of me. I’ve been on a slow journey away from that “good girl” perfectionism throughout my 20s and 30s, slowly making choices every year to live life on my own terms.

I used to believe that the more you give, the better you are as a person. But instead of giving to myself, I gave my energy away to others, constantly self-sacrificing to the point of resentment.

And yesterday at the bath house, I was letting go of little pieces of that resentment.

I was letting go of anger towards younger versions of myself.

The sweat dripping off me in the sauna was me letting go of frustration with my younger self, my patterns of people-pleasing and co-dependency. Instead of rejecting that younger, unaware version of myself and being angry at her, I took a moment to see her, to love her, to forgive her.

I sat with her and admired how she was doing the best she could with the knowledge she had at the time.

She was surviving so much.

Yesterday in the sauna I was able to sit with the thought, I’m not perfect.

And the thought that came afterwards— one that’s even more powerful: I’m not perfect and I don’t have to be.

Being perfect is no longer my goal in life.

My one simple goal is to be human. To be myself. To experience all the ups and downs of life, all the emotions. I’m meant to experience ongoing deaths and rebirths of myself, all the time, becoming new, more aware versions of myself every year.

That younger version of me needed to experience all of those things for current me to be the way I am, as painful as that is to accept.

And I’m in a place now where I can recognize when I’m having a day where I need less. Less movement, less achieving, less giving— and more stillness and receiving.

I’m able to recognize when I need to do nothing, to sit quietly instead of being overstimulated.

I can recognize the difference between days when I’m making excuses and just want to let myself off the hook for something I committed to, and days when I actually need to say no to something because it isn’t right for me.

I’m learning how to be flexible, to listen to my body’s energy levels, to make shifts and changes that support what I need, moment by moment.

Last November, I left an MBA program that I realized wasn’t right for me.

This past May, I walked away from a high-paying corporate job.

In both cases, alarm bells were going off in my body for weeks before I made the decision. I wasn’t sleeping at night. I wasn’t functioning well. My body was screaming at me to make a change.

It was getting worse and worse.

So I chose— I chose to walk away from something that on the outside, looked shiny and perfect.

And I’m so grateful that I did. The mindfulness tools I have now— yoga, Reiki, meditation, journaling—those tools plus guidance from my higher self made it so abundantly clear what I needed to do. And instead of second-guessing myself or prioritizing anyone else’s opinion over my own about the decision, I went with my gut.

Instead of pushing myself and forcing myself to be somewhere I knew wasn’t right for me anymore, I left. I quit. I said no. This is revolutionary for me because I did not used to live life like this, on my own terms.

Instead of doing more, more, more, I said, no thanks, I know deep in my bones this isn’t right for me. I need to do less.

And immediately, I could breathe again.

Without feeling like a failure.

Without feeling massive heaps of guilt.

See, in the past, if I had made a choice like that— choosing myself over trying to please everyone else— I would have felt terrible about myself. I would have wondered, did I make the right decision? What will people think? Oh gosh, what if someone hates me for this? Have I done something wrong? What if… what if… what if…

This year, I’ve been willing to have other people be disappointed in me if that’s what’s required to pursue my own happiness.

And I have compassion for that version of myself, the self-doubting, second-guessing younger woman who preferred being liked, being quiet, being in the shadows rather than risking what she knew was right.

In the past year, on two momentous occasions, I normalized standing up for myself and choosing me instead of giving myself away for the sake of being liked and accepted by others. Instead of following the standard societal path that tells us, “You need accomplishments like a master’s degree to be successful” and “More money equals more happiness,” I realized, wow, these paths aren’t serving me and they aren’t taking me closer to my dreams, they’re actually depleting me so much that I feel like a shell of myself.

I broke free from the matrix.

I woke up.

I listened to my body.

And this new chapter feels like I’m just getting started.

I’ll be back in the sauna and the cold water tomorrow.

I’ll show up with my little plan to do three rounds.

But I’ll see how it goes, and how my body is feeling.

And instead of forcing it, I’ll listen.

I’ll do what’s right for me in this moment because it feels right for me today, not because it’s what I’ve done in the past. Autopilot and discipline over everything don’t work for me anymore.

I’ll do what’s right for me day by day, moment by moment, because I’m in charge of my life. I have the freedom to take care of myself in the way that’s right for me today. I know myself well enough to know what I need and what I’m capable of.

I am free.