POLAR BEAR SWIM

I know people think southerners are a little bit crazy. We like to think of it as being mildly eccentric.

Today, I could have proved it to you at the Dunleavy's Pub Polar Bear Swim on Sullivan's Island where I joined hundreds of costumed people who jumped into the ocean to help bring in the New Year. You can check out some video from this year that shows the pre-splash and video of the event of a previous year that shows the run to the water. The event also happens to be a fundraiser for the Special Olympics of South Carolina. This was my second year taking the plunge, and the first dating challenge for a new guy.

Michael and I were running late. I carried a blanket (for the post-swim warm up), a change of clothes, and a beach bag. Michael had his change of clothes and a flask of Crown Royal (also for the post-swim warm up). We had our bathing suits on beneath sweaters and jackets and jeans and warm shoes. As we race-walked through Dunleavy's, Michael looked longingly at the non-swimmers sitting around fire barrels with beer in their hands: "Now these are my type of folks." As we turned the corner onto the beach path, he said, "I've trained with some of the best military folks in the world, and I can tell you, I can't imagine why in the world I am going in this water when I am not following a direct order." I gave him a look that I hoped stood in for a direct order.

Then, we heard the horn and shouts from warm people hitting cold water. As we got to the beach, the hundreds of people were coming back in from the water, though some were still going in, screaming as they came up out of their dives. We headed for the water to join them, Michael fighting his well-honed survival instinct that told him to run the other way.

I walked past girls in pink tutus, boys in drag, a few Santas in Speedos. Parents carried their giggling, shivering children. A man in a tuxedo top and swim suit bottoms gave a red rose to a girl in a bell skirt and bikini top. A man with the biggest, hairiest naked belly I have ever seen stood in the surf having his picture taken. A few heads bobbed out beyond the breakers and showed no inclination toward getting out of the water. Kite surfers in wet suits defied gravity on top of the waves.

We stripped off the shirts, sweaters, pants, and coats. The wind cut through my suddenly exposed swim suit. Michael tried to look like he was having a good time. I gave him credit for trying.

A young mother ran up to us. "Are you all going in? Can I come with with you?" Her four-year-old daughter cheered us on as we ran into the surf.

We dove in. I couldn't breathe. My skin tingled. My toes and fingers went numb. I came up to the surface with a shout. And I ran right back out. I may be eccentric but I'm not crazy.

The reward? That feeling of coming in from the cold to warm room. Under a blanket, I stripped down and put on my dry clothes. Michael wrapped me in a warm coat. He stood there, wet and cold but more worried about me than himself. He squeezed my shoulders.

He must really like me to not complain.

"Happy New Year," he said with a kiss.