Plunge this, Polar Bear

Plungers and one polar bear mascot poses for the inaugural Polar Bear Plunge Wildwood in February 2007.

When the New Jersey polar bear -- the species of half-naked, half-crazy humans -- sees its shadow shivering today, winter will be confused for summer for another four weeks.

In a ph-ph-phenomenon that neither physicians nor psychologists can explain, thousands will migrate to the shore in the next month, hang their coats on sand castles and plunge into the Atlantic Ocean, starting at 10 a.m. today in Wildwood and ending Feb. 23 in Seaside Heights, Ocean County.

"I haven't the slightest idea as to why they do it," said Dr. Robert Karlin, a Rutgers University psychology professor at the Livingston Campus. "I suppose it's just for fun."

Stan Cherim has grown numb trying to explain his winter dips.

Rather than say why he braves the icy water, the 78-year-old thrill seeker said he'd rather explain the rush of darting out.

"We're all aware of the fact that the water is near freezing," said Cherim, a Media, Pa., resident. "You try to prepare for it, but it's still freezing. "The comforting fact is that you don't have to stay in there long. You just have to submerge yourself."

Cherim doesn't shy from challenges, but rather seeks them. The retired chemistry professor ran a half marathon on the Great Wall of China in May 2006, finishing first in his age group.

Stan Cherim flexes his muscles at the Polar Bear Plunge Seaside Heights in 2006.

Cold in his future

While Cherim will stay dry during the second annual Polar Bear Plunge Wildwood today, he plans on diving -- his eighth time in 12 years -- at the 15th annual Polar Bear Plunge Seaside Heights on Feb. 23 alongside Hank Deal and other members of his local Hash House Harriers, the social "drinking club with a running problem."

No matter the site, a few factors remain constant: the chill, the wetness and the buzz.

"In a fun setting, it's a fun challenge and a personal challenge to go into water that cold," said Lynn Schindel, the communication manager for the Special Olympics New Jersey.

Along with plunging for pride, thousands of swimmers lend use of their extremities -- and the time it takes to raise the $100 minimum -- to support the Special Olympics. Last year, it received more than $1.6 million from the Seaside Heights plunge, Schindel said.

The money collected from the events helps out more than 16,000 Special Olymics athletes by providing free training and competitions year round, Schindel added.

On that February day, the water temperature fell to 28 degrees, she said. Wildwood's inaugural plunge, on the other hand, was more bearable as the air temperature reached a balmy 58 degrees.

"It will be much colder this year," Schindel promises.

A frigid mix

In the 13 years he has participated, Deal, 53, considers the jump in Point Pleasant, Ocean County, in February 2003, when 20 inches of show blanketed the Northeast, as the coldest and his most memorable. Water temperature was in the mid 20s, he said.

As a safety precaution, officials asked swimmers to keep their heads above water, Deal recalls.

"I drove that far," said the Brookhaven, Pa., resident. "I'm going all the way in. I'm not going up to my knees."

For Deal, Cherim and others, training is minimal -- as in nonexistent. No cold-shower marathons or ice cube baths. No Slurpee chugs or snow-angel exercises. Not even midnight streaking.

"I don't know anyone who trains for it," Cherim said. "You kind of grind your teeth and that's about all the training you do."

Safety precautions

Ambulances and diving crews have been present but luckily unused during both plunges, Schindel said.

Dr. Laurence DesRochers, chairman of emergency service at Community Medical Center in Toms River, Ocean County, says shock-induced emergencies such as hypothermia or cardiac arrest can mostly be avoided by checking your body before and during the plunge.

DesRochers discourages anyone with heart or lung problems, diabetes or high blood pressure to take the plunge.

Cherim figures an in-and-out approach would typically be best and just not for him.

"Some people plunge right in, but I tend to plunge a little slower because I don't want to get a heart attack," Cherim said. "I plunge slowly and get out."

Once out in the brisk open, Cherim said he rushes for cover, fetching his towel, robe and slippers before joining the crowd of spectators, his real source of warmth.

"I never had the luxury of warm showers, but there's plenty of people," he said, "so there's not a problem of staying warm after that point."