After several months of planning, the weekend of Polar Plunge 2026 was finally here. I drove up to New Jersey to meet my lifelong friend Kari and stay with her for the night. We stayed up late talking and catching up, and of course neither of us slept well, knowing what was in store for us the next day. Nerves and excitement made for a restless night.

We were up early, packing our bags and getting ready, when my phone rang. It was my friend Brian, a Polar Plunge veteran, calling to tell us he had woken up sick and wouldn’t be able to plunge with us. We were so bummed to lose one of our teammates, but getting healthy was the priority. Even from afar, Brian kept encouraging and supporting us, and we were so grateful for that. Though he couldn’t be there in person, our team spirit — Mid-Life Ice-Sis — was still very much intact.

We drove the hour and twenty minutes to Wildwood and arrived at the convention center, having no idea what to expect. We were amazed to see people tailgating like it was an NFL game. There were tents, fire pits, music, food, RVs, and a contagious buzz in the air.

Inside, we checked in and picked up our rewards. Thanks to the generosity of friends and family, I earned a zip-up hoodie, a backpack, and a big, cozy towel. We stashed our goodies in the car and took a walk along the boardwalk to acclimate to the cold. It was a “balmy” 38-ish degrees. I hadn’t been to Wildwood since I was 17 and had forgotten just how wide the beaches are. It was going to be a long walk to the water.

At 12:30, Kari and I changed into our “outfits” and headed to the staging area. Her friends, Donna and Kelly, came to cheer us on, and we were so thankful they did. They became our photographers and our very patient holders of all things dry.

As we stepped onto the beach, our nerves really kicked in. Two kind women nearby hyped us up and offered some advice:
“Look up when you’re running in — people will already be running out.”
“You can’t go in too far, so run to about your waist and dip down.”

The crowd grew louder, the energy electric. Cheers, clapping, music — it felt like a celebration and a challenge all at once. When the rope dropped, Kari and I began our jog toward the ocean. And let me tell you, that wide Wildwood beach suddenly felt endless. We looked at each other, counted down, and ran.

The 41-degree water hit us like knives. I don’t think I’ve ever felt cold like that in my life. We made it to about our waists, dipped, splashed, and ran right back out.

The feeling afterward is hard to describe — pure exhilaration that we had done it, mixed with intense cold and the certainty that we might never be warm again. I kicked off my water shoes, which somehow made everything hurt worse, and was immediately wrapped in a robe by Kelly and Donna. Back at our spot, I slid into my furry winter boots, and the warmth felt like heaven. We headed back to the convention center, changed into sweats, and made our way to Kelly’s condo to fully warm up, dry off, and celebrate with a lovely lunch and even better conversation.

For me, this was a true two-for-one bucket list moment. I crossed off “Do a Polar Plunge” and “Raise Money for a Charity.” Special Olympics has always been near and dear to my heart. I am (and was) a special education teacher, and in high school and college I volunteered with Special Olympics in both New Jersey and Pennsylvania.

A heartfelt thank you to the friends and family who made this possible. Our team, Mid-Life Ice-Sis, raised over $1,400 for Special Olympics New Jersey. I am beyond grateful for every donation, every word of encouragement, and every text and call wishing us luck. Thank you to Brian for cheering us on before, during, and after, and to my ride-or-die — I truly don’t think I could have done this without you.

Ten bucket list items down… forty more to go. 🧊💙