Comfort is something you can train.

Cold water hits a panic button and your breath spikes. 
To some it’s torture. Others find it a thrill they crave.
Heat does the same thing, just slower. The air thickens, your heart rate climbs, and you start thinking of ways to make an exit. It’s tempting to quit here.

But if you stay a little longer and bring your breath back under control, you realize:

It’s fine. You’re fine. Everything’s fine. It’s just uncomfortable.

One thing I remember about Oma: she kept her house at 27°C, so she would feel comfortable in her later years (I really miss her and her quirks!). Her range had narrowed so much that anything less felt unbearable. 

That might be inevitable when you get into your 90’s like Oma, but even so…

If you don’t stretch your comfort zone, it doesn’t stay the same . . . it shrinks.

The body is remarkably adaptable. The Inuit thrive in extreme cold, the Bedouin, in extreme heat. We can learn to handle and stay calm in both.

It’s surprisingly challenging to develop this capacity when we can move from heated homes to heated cars to heated buildings.

We can chase shade and crank the AC the moment the sun presses in. We buffer ourselves from discomfort so consistently that even mild extremes start to feel intolerable. Slowly, without noticing, our capacity narrows.

The research around hot and cold exposure is promising. There’s emerging evidence pointing toward benefits for cardiovascular health, metabolic function, recovery, and even longevity. Sauna use has been associated with reduced risk of certain chronic diseases. Cold exposure is being explored for its effects on inflammation, brown fat activation, and resilience.

The science is still young, but regardless of where the science sits, this would still be worth doing.

When you step into the cold (or heat) and stay there just long enough to feel your system react, then learn to steady it, what you’re really training isn’t just your body. 

You’re training your response.

You’re practicing staying calm in stress, and that’s a skill that transfers.

To hard workouts, difficult conversations, and moments where your first instinct is to react, escape, or shut down.

When you’ve felt your nervous system spike and learned to regulate it (in something as primal as heat or cold), you carry that capacity into everything else.

You learn how to create space, and in that space, you get to choose.

I don’t follow a strict protocol with this Mandate. There have been seasons where I leaned into it more intentionally—building tolerance, extending time, and chasing adaptation. But for the most part, I’m just mindful not to avoid uncomfortable temperatures all the time. 

I try to take advantage of opportunities when they arise. Like a sauna at a friend’s place. A cold lake? Let’s go! If you live in the north, as I do, something as simple as standing at the gas pump in -30°C without tensing up counts.

In the summer, it might look like a short run in the afternoon heat instead of waiting for perfect conditions. You don’t always need a discipline, you just need to stop hiding.

Comfort is something you can train.

Not by protecting it, but by expanding it. Hot and cold are simple, accessible ways to do that, and they give you something we easily lose: the ability to thrive in discomfort.

Lean into it, and you may surprise yourself. You might find, like many others, it’s something to seek out rather than avoid.

Homework:

If you can’t already hit the Movement Mandate Cold benchmark of two minutes of sitting in water 5 degrees or colder, start small today with a 10-second cold shower. 

When your body responds with panic, just breathe through it and remind yourself that this is the path to a stronger, more vibrant you. Start training your mind to associate those sensations with growth and vibrancy, not panic and danger (it helps if you smile!).