Social Media Says Dunking Your Face in Ice Water Calms You. But Does it Actually Work?

Mindfulness hack or cruel and unusual punishment?

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(Photo: Aman Krishna | Unsplash)

There’s been a LOT of talk in recent years about the benefits of cold. Cold plunging, hot-cold shower challenges, and ice-rolling have been marketed as everything from “beauty secrets” that decrease puffiness to “biohacks” that promote muscle recovery and longevity.

What intrigues me most, however, is the mental and emotional benefits linked to exposing oneself to cold water are incredibly similar to the benefits of yoga—a calm nervous system, lowered heart rate, improved mood, better emotional regulation, sharper focus, and more.

Lately, I started seeing “ice facials” on Instagram. People hold their breath and dunk their faces in bowls of ice water in an attempt to replicate a full-body cold plunge in miniature. Those who tout the practice claim it gives them mental clarity, presence, and calm throughout the day, particularly when practiced first thing in the morning. The takeaway of these “cold therapies”  usually sounds something like, “If you’re willing to put in the work and embrace discomfort, you’ll be rewarded on the other side.” Which also sounds a lot like yoga.

As a snoozer of alarms, a dragger of feet, and someone who’s not to be socialized with until noon, I wondered whether plunging my face in ice water wouldn’t be a relatively low-effort, fast track to mindfulness and energy in the mornings—a way to experience similar benefits as yoga and meditation in a fraction of the time.

Dunking My Face In Ice Water for 7 Days: Did It Make Me Calmer?

I committed to my new mindfulness experiment once a day. The rules, which I based on how I observed others doing it, were:

1. Do it shortly after waking up
2. Dunk for 10 seconds
3. Notice how I feel immediately after and throughout the day.

There are some risks to dunking your face in a bowl full of ice, as it can be intense if you have certain conditions. Consult with your physician before trying at home.

Days 1-3

The first day of ice dunking was, in a word, ugh. I hadn’t yet figured out that I should only fill my bowl about three-quarters of the way full with ice and water before dipping in my face and spilling lots of freezing cold liquid all over my kitchen table.

The sensation of the ice itself was not bad! But holding my breath was trickier than I’d imagined.

After plunging my face in, I quickly realized that a lot of water was about to go up my nose. I gently exhaled through my nose in an attempt to stop it, and somehow ended up swallowing a lot of air in the process, which was extremely uncomfortable.

After only a few seconds, my mind was like, “We’re gonna die!” While underwater, I thought of a documentary I had watched on free diving in which someone held their breath for more than 3 minutes. That’s definitely not me. I came up gasping for air after just 5 seconds.

Once I emerged, I felt a cool tingling sensation on my nose. That’s maybe a result of making direct contact with the ice, which I later read you’re *not* supposed to do (something about potential damage to blood vessels). Some people stick the bowl of water in the freezer for a few minutes as an alternative approach to using ice.

Since this was a pre-coffee dunk, I was pleasantly surprised that I felt more energized than I usually would during this time of the morning.

Call it the placebo effect, but I also felt really grounded in the present moment and not stressed about the day ahead. Could also be the fact that my body was in a little bit of shock, but I’ll take it.

Days 2 and 3 followed suit.

Days 4-6

Instead of getting easier, it became more difficult to keep ice dunking as part of my routine. In large part, this is probably because the novelty faded real quick. Suddenly I was annoyed by the fact that I had to start my day in such a cruel and unusual way. Not to mention I now had a growing stack of bowls to wash in my kitchen sink…

So I started pushing it off juuust a little. Instead of doing the ice facial immediately after I woke up, I did other things first—brushed my teeth, moisturized my face (a total waste once I washed it all off in the ice bath), and even drank coffee and ate breakfast. It would’ve been much easier if the ice bath was magically awaiting me on my nightstand so I could shock myself out of bed.

With each day that passed, I also felt more and more restless underwater. It seemed I had less patience. But that also meant that I had to find a sustainable way to remain calm. I couldn’t focus on my breath since I wasn’t breathing, but I was able to shift my focus to the sensations I was feeling—the water on my face, my feet on the floor, my hands on the table—and settle into my body as I’ve learned to do in yoga and meditation. This helped prevent me from running away with my anxious thoughts and ditching the ice facial altogether. For this reason, I felt more grounded and more present during the ice dunk than after it.

Despite—or maybe because of—the increasing struggle to keep my face dunked, I still felt a sense of accomplishment each time I came up for air. Maybe it’s automatically calming to start the day with a hard thing because it makes everything else seem more doable.

Day 7

I must’ve been feeling bold because I added more ice than usual on the final day and emerged with a panicked yelp. It was about as energizing—and unpleasant—as taking a dip in 38-degree ocean water, a beloved pastime of my 20s, but something I just can’t bring myself to do very often in my 30s.

Reflections

Looking back at my week of putting my face in ice water, I was exceptionally productive at work, more willing to do the difficult tasks earlier in the day, and I numbed out way less on Instagram in my spare moments.

Of course, self-care begets self-care. It’s not surprising that implementing a new mindfulness practice inspired me to maintain my current feel-good activities (walking outside every day) and practice some extra ones for good measure (meditating during a work break).

But I won’t be continuing a daily ice facial. Logistically, it’s sorta inconvenient (though I would consider using an ice roller in the future). And this type of mindfulness practice feels like the equivalent of the muscly, protein shake-drinking, self-help influencer whose catchphrase is “Discomfort is the gateway to growth!” Sure, that’s true, but we don’t need to scream about it.

Cold therapies put your body in a similarly extreme environment where it’s sorta impossible not to be present, like those sensory deprivation tanks or total darkness retreats. Maybe I’ll reserve it for the days when I don’t get enough sleep or am feeling particularly in my head.

Still, it was nice to be reminded of the fact that my mind has the ability to overcome harsh circumstances. Although it’s not something I can’t achieve by practicing Chair Pose or sitting in silence for a while. Perhaps, in the end, my brand of mindfulness is still just yoga.