We were late again for the Polar Plunge this year. A raging New Year’s hangover, insane Sullivan’s Island parking, and flooded paths all worked together to thwart our first New Year’s resolution, which was to make it to the Polar Plunge on time.
We were actually just out of viewing distance when we heard the horn and the screams of hundreds of people discovering that the Atlantic Ocean is quite uncomfortable in January.
Along with a steady stream of other latecomers, we watched as the brave souls frolicked in the surf and ran back to the shore and warm blankets and towels. Many continued to make their plunges even after the masses were finished, while shutterbugs and other amused onlookers stood by in a state best described as happy shock.
The Dunleavy’s in their signature white tuxedos stood out from the crowd, while a school of sharks and a guy in see-through long-johns also made lasting impressions. While we stood safely in galoshes on the shoreline, we thought about how ballsy all those people were — not for jumping in a freezing ocean, but for showing off their pale, flabby winter bodies without shame.
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