Have you ever noticed how quickly we celebrate “toughing it out”? From gym slogans to childhood lessons, we’ve been told that real strength means pushing through, no matter what. But what if that story is incomplete? What if strength is less about gritting your teeth and more about learning how to meet discomfort differently?
A few nights ago, while watching Limitless with Chris Hemsworth, specifically the second episode about pain, I found myself reflecting on cold plunging. That episode challenged the idea many of us grew up believing: that bearing pain, pushing through no matter what, is the ultimate sign of strength.
That narrative is deeply woven into our culture. “No pain, no gain.” “Tough it out.” “Push past your limits.” These are the mantras we’ve heard in sports, school, and sometimes even in our own homes. But here’s the thing: that mindset can lead to harm. Physically, emotionally, and mentally.
What if strength isn’t about ignoring pain, but about listening to it? What if growth comes not from pushing through at all costs, but from reframing our relationship with discomfort?
This is where cold plunging enters the conversation. How can we recognize the fine line between a beneficial vs. harmful belief system when it comes to immersing ourselves in the cold?
Cold Water and the Brain
When I talk with people about the products we sell, I’ve noticed a familiar reaction: almost everyone flinches when I mention cold plunges. There’s no denying the main association is pain, whether you’ve tried it or not. For many, the thought of a cold shower at home feels unbearable, so imagine choosing to immerse yourself in a 50-degree tub. To make matters worse, much of the content circulating online shows cold plunging as a kind of glorified suffering.
So is cold plunging just another version of “No pain, no gain”? Or is there a deeper, hidden benefit that breaks free from that cultural script?
Science shows that immersing yourself in cold water triggers a cascade of changes in your body and brain. Your nervous system shifts gears. Stress hormones like cortisol drop after the initial shock, while neurotransmitters like norepinephrine spike, sharpening focus, boosting mood, and even supporting resilience against depression and anxiety.
It’s not about punishing yourself with cold, it’s about intentionally creating a brief, safe encounter with discomfort. The cold forces your body into the present moment. Your mind doesn’t have room to spiral into yesterday’s regrets or tomorrow’s worries when your skin meets 50-degree water.
Pain, Reframed
Here’s the paradox: cold plunging does involve pain. The first sting of water on your skin, the gasp, the urge to flee, it’s uncomfortable, sometimes deeply so. But unlike the cultural story of “pushing through,” this isn’t about gritting your teeth until you break.
Instead, cold plunging teaches you to stay curious inside the discomfort. To breathe through it. To find calm where panic wants to take over. You’re not ignoring your body, you’re training your nervous system to respond differently.
And that shift doesn’t stay in the water. It follows you into your workday, into parenting, into every challenge that makes your heart race. The moment you learn you can meet the cold with presence instead of panic, you start to meet life the same way.
Questioning Strength
So maybe true strength isn’t found in pushing through at all costs. Maybe it’s in choosing discomfort wisely, reframing it as a teacher instead of an enemy. Maybe it’s in knowing when to lean in and when to step back.
Cold plunging is not about proving how tough you are. It’s about practicing how tender, aware, and resilient you can become.
As I sat with that episode of Limitless, I realized: the cultural myth of “pushing through” has shaped so much of how we relate to pain. But what if the real invitation is this:
Not to escape pain.
Not to glorify it.
But to meet it wisely, breathe through it, and let it reshape us from the inside out.
And maybe, just maybe, the cold is one of the gentlest teachers of all.
The Nervous System: Your Personal Power Grid (And How to Explore It Without Losing Yourself)