Cryotherapy

“With the whiff of mild peril filling the tiny treatment room, my boss and I stripped down to our underwear [...] The cryo-chamber’s temperature gauge read -91°C as we gingerly stepped inside. I failed to stifle a yelp. We were in the freezer. [...] It was unusual and not particularly pleasant. Our internal voices were repeating “stay calm, breathe normally, it won’t last forever.” As my body adjusted to the cold and the fog began to clear, I realized that I probably would survive after all. I began to take note of my surroundings: the hairs on our arms had turned into tiny icicles, the cold felt piercing, especially on the backs of my arms, and my boss was standing opposite me, dancing in a surgical mask. This was one of the strangest days I’d had for some time.”

“My first minute of cryo seemed mild enough as I chatted with the technician who was in the room to make sure I was safe and to keep my mind off the cold. But at about the halfway mark, I began to shiver and the cold seemed to bite with each passing second. As I stepped out of the tank, I felt pins and needles in my hands and feet. Luckily, by the time I changed and warmed up, I began to feel the blood rush back into my limbs, and within 10 minutes, I felt energized and clearheaded.”

“For all my skepticism—and profound discomfort—would I do it again? Yes, I would. I really did feel energized, happy, and reinvigorated for that hour afterward. And you know what? It was fun. Like the Ice Bucket Challenge or riding a roller coaster; it's a thrill followed by a rush of pride. I did it. I survived. I'm awesome. And if there's one thing I'm grateful for, it's this: Because of cryotherapy, I will never, ever complain about being cold again.”