Cold Plunge vs. Warm Bath: A reflection on a sprint triathlon, a cold plunge, and a surprising realization.
- Carson McLean, CFP
- Jul 2
- 3 min read
Updated: Jul 3

Recently, a friend talked me into doing my first sprint triathlon. With only a few weeks’ notice and no real training, I somehow placed 2nd in my age group (only out of five, but still).
That same evening, our lovely neighbors had planned a couples-night activity: sauna and cold plunge. Honestly, it was perfect, a chance to recover from the tri and a date night that, mercifully, wasn’t just going out for dinner.
Hats off to Sauna House Charlotte: clean, beautiful, and highly recommended if you’re curious about trying something new. We rented a private room with three other couples, complete with a massive sauna and a 41-degree plunge pool.
My competitive streak and juvenile machismo actually enjoyed it. By the end of our two-hour session, I got past my frozen toes (which didn’t just tingle, but actually hurt) and was eventually sitting in the cold tub for five minutes at a stretch.
My wife and one of her friends? Not so much. Both got headaches and felt like they fell through a frozen lake in January. Which, technically, they did.
It was fun. It was unique. It was invigorating. But… was it worth it?
Cold Truths, Warm Realizations
A few days later, I was giving my 3-year-old daughter a bath and instinctively sunk my sore feet into the warm water.
And wow. I can't remember the last time I just soaked in a warm bath. But man, did my feet feel good.
Cold plunges are all the rage, but what if warm baths are actually better?
There’s plenty of literature backing up cold plunges: dopamine spikes, something called hormesis (look for that one in your next NYT crossword), and even possible immune system boosts due to increased white blood cell count. In theory, shocking your system builds resilience.
But, let’s be honest, cold plunges feel effective because they’re awful. There’s suffering, and we’ve somehow come to equate that with grit, as if enduring voluntary discomfort is the antidote to our other lifestyle choices. Your body freaks out, and your brain proudly yells “Look at all I’m overcoming!”
And yes, that dopamine rush afterward is real. But you know what else delivers a dopamine hit?
A good run.
Snuggling your kids.
Eating an everything bagel….alone….in silence.
If you’re a serious athlete (training hard, pushing limits, bench-pressing a small car) then sure, cold plunges have a place. They reduce inflammation, blunt soreness, and maybe even help you feel like a Norse god for 12 minutes.
If you're like me (38, reasonably active, raising kids, trying to keep your joints attached playing club sports) your body might not be begging for resilience. It might just want to relax.
Anyone can do something hard and call it wellness. But it takes some true self-reflection to say, “You know what? I’m going to soak my muscles, downshift my nervous system, and maybe let Coltrane handle the rest.”
I’m not done with cold plunges forever.
But if I’m being honest, I can't remember the last time I gave myself permission to sit still, slow down, and just soak.
Relaxation is a skill I need to practice more, and realizing I would jump into ice water before considering a nap struck me.
But I think I’ve figured something out:
I need more warm baths in my life.
The Scientific, Totally Unbiased Comparison
Benefit | 🧊 Cold Plunge | 🛁 Warm Bath |
---|---|---|
Dopamine Hit | Big surge (2x Plus) | Mild bump (like eating a good sandwich) |
Cortisol Response | Spikes it | Lowers it— Turns out bubbles are just better for stress relief |
Nervous System Impact | Activates “fight or flight” | Triggers “rest and digest" |
Muscle Soreness Relief | Blunts inflammation short-term | Improves blood flow and long-term recovery |
Sleep Quality | Good luck going to bed afterwards | You might actually fall asleep during it |
Accessibility | Requires courage, a timer, and emotional support | Candles, jazz music, or a good book optional |
How You Feel Midway Through | “I regret every decision that led me here.” | “I may never leave.” |
How You Feel After | Invigorated and mildly traumatized | Looser, calmer, and slightly pruney |
Likelihood of Telling Others You Did It | Extremely high, bonus for putting it on the TikTok | Low to quite low |
About the Author
Carson McLean, CFP® is the founder of Altruist Wealth Management, a flat-fee fiduciary firm serving clients nationwide. He writes about markets, financial planning, and—when the mood strikes—whatever else seems to matter to modern adults trying to keep their knees intact and their priorities straight. This post falls under that last category.