How cold exposure trained me for chronic illness life

It’s cold. I’m uncomfortable. I don’t want to do this. I want to get out. This sucks. This hurts. insert string of curse words here.

This is my inner monologue when I intentionally bring myself to the cold. It sounds crazy, but the first time I heard about intentionally freezing your butt off I was intrigued.

I’ve fluctuated with my cold exposure based on my current season of life and what my body needs, but its a habit I’ve returned to in 2025 as I’m dealing with some nervous system disregulation and I hoped the cold would help my symptoms (it has, but more on that later)

A few years ago, I was on a podcast and the host asked me about my abdominal surgery. Having observed my behaviour both before, during and after this surgery, she wanted to know how I was able to face such pain. I was the kind of person that the pain excited me. I viewed this surgery as something I needed to prepare for, similarly to how I would a marathon, and that on the other side I wouldn’t come out the same. At the time I said I didn’t know how I’d been able to achieve such an attitude, but the more I’ve thought about it I think I do know.

I train for pain. I know it’s inevitable, it’s going to happen, and that the best way I can handle this pain is by being prepared. Now there are a million and one factors I can’t control, but there are also a number of factors I can. I use my breath, I practice deep embodiment and being with my body in situations I find uncomfortable, and I use the cold.

Being from Canada, I’m no stranger to the cold. I would much rather be cold than hot. But cold like this, it demands presence. Even thinking about it, you don’t envision ease. Which is the point.

Can I learn to control my breath in high stakes situations? Can I slow everything down when my impulse is to panic? Can I stay in my body in the present moment when it gets hard?

I didn’t think these things were connected for the longest time, until I found myself in a pain moment recalling tools I’d practiced during my cold exposure.

Breathe. I know it sucks. This is what you trained for. You’ve got this. Don’t quit, don’t jump out of this experience because it’s hard, just be here.

With pain, there doesn’t come the same bliss moment as there does with cold. In the cold, usually there hits a specific point where the panic settles, where you realize this isn’t actually going to kill you, and the bliss takes over. Maybe the moment the pain breaks, but with cold I can usually time it and when I’m riding the waves of pain I can’t. I don’t know if it will be 10 more seconds or 2 more hours. I have to be so present. If I try to think too far down the line I lose it.

I’m not recommending everyone go out and freeze themselves. That’s the other thing about the cold: it demands respect. It’s the same with the body, and different types of chronic illness. There isn’t anything to conquer. You don’t get to force your way. You just have to be with what is. There are also a lot of conditions that react poorly to extreme cold, and while you never know how you’ll react the key is in taking it slow. Start with cold at the end of your shower, start with an ice pack on the back of your neck.

But I do think cold exposure, and this intense dedication to working with the nervous system, has allowed me to exist more deeply inside of chronic illness. I don’t love it but I do respect it.

(I also want to issue a reminder, if anyone needs it, that I am not a doctor. I know my own body, I know what is within my normal and what isn’t, and I do seek medical help when I feel it is necessary. I’m not out here raw dogging pain when it’s an actual emergency. Body literacy is foundational)