I had registered. There was the number written on my hand: 140. There was no turning back now.
I, Adam Louis, was about to join the ranks of the polar bear jumpers of Portage Lakes.
It was all to benefit the Akron-Canton Regional Food Bank. All I had to do was swim across a 10-foot-wide hole in the ice from one dock to another. That didn’t seem so hard.
Being that I was diver number 140, I had plenty of time to take in the atmosphere. It was an overcast, windy winter day as the polar-bears-to-be huddled around fire pits, as if saying a long farewell to feeling warm.
Some were already in their swimsuits while others clung stubbornly to their blankets and coats, embracing the warmth while they could. Still others went a less traditional route, decked out in roller-derby outfits and faux polar bear fur. A construction worker, Indian warrior and a cowboy were among the divers, an obvious homage to The Village People.
I held my jacket shut as another blast of chilly air sped through our gathering. As I waited my turn to jump into the icy depths, favorites like Van Halen’s “Jump” and Vanilla Ice’s “Ice Ice Baby” blasted over the speakers. It appeared our radio hosts from 91.3 “The Summit” had a sense of humor.
I watched as those who dove before me ran through a cheering crowd, making a beeline to the heated changing tents. Some whooped and hollered as the cold soaked in, making them sprint all the faster to find warmth.
“Bad news. It’s cold this year,” said one particularly soaked and shivering soul as he passed through the spectators, who chuckled at his comment. The man was brave enough to dive in shirtless, and his skin looked bright red as his body tried to adjust to the sudden shock of freezing water.
I winced. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.
But it was too late. They called my number, and like a flock of featherless penguins, me and more of my fellow divers waddled our way to the barge where we would dive. Soon I stood, nothing but the icy lake before me.
With a primal cry, I launched myself feet-first off the dock into the frigid unknown.
Splash!
For the very brief time I was underwater, there was absolute peace. Sure, there was the initial shock at how cold the water was, but once I was submerged it felt just fine. Surrounded by the swirling sounds of the lake, I thought “Huh. This isn’t so bad.”
Then I came up for air.
It was then I realized that the combination of the winter air and the water made for profound and very deep cold.
Every nerve in my body was electrified. I would say it was an adrenaline rush beyond anything I’d ever felt, but I was far too cold to notice.
I tried to explain all that to the paramedics stationed on the other dock, but I believe it came out as, “Oh! HO! HA! Ooh! Eee!”
I can have such a way with words sometimes.
I, like those gone before me, sprinted as fast as my unfeeling feet would carry me to the nearest heated tent. Safe!
Fifteen minutes later, when I had regained most of the feeling in my body, I tried to tough out the last of my chills. I started my drive home.
Face it, fellow polar bears. We were all insane to intentionally hurl ourselves into an almost-frozen lake like a pack of large, mentally unstable lemmings. However, we raised a little money and helped make life just a bit better for some of our fellow Ohioans, and that’s enough to warm my heart any day.
Now if I could just do something about the rest of my body…
