The running of the fools

I got excited when I found out I would be covering the 6th Annual New Year’s Day Dolphin Dip. I thought it would be amusing to watch, who were in my estimation, a bunch of lunatics voluntarily jumping into the Atlantic Ocean for no good reason.

Then when I was told that I would also be participating in the dip, I started re-thinking my career choices. You see, I hate cold water more than snails hate salt. I fancy myself a beach-bum, but only during the convenient months of June through September. Nevertheless, being new to the paper, I knew this would be a great first small event for me to get out and meet a few people in the area. Little did I know, small this event is not.

The multitude of people who participate in the Dolphin Dip should have been evident to me when two speeding news crews passed me on my drive to Surf City. Unfortunately, I’m not always that bright, so I kept driving slowly and crossed the bridge with just 10 minutes left until dipping time.

After finding the nearest parking space about a quarter-mile from the pier, I ran as fast as I could to the meeting area. I’d like to say I was hoping that I’d still make it to the beach in time to jump in it with everyone else; however, due to my hatred of cold water, I was really trying to give myself excuses as to why it would be okay if I skipped the dip.

Darn it! I made to the beach with five minutes to spare. Now I had to jump. I meandered through the crowd of about 900 people (I’m no certified people counter; there may have been more) and found a nice spot on the sand to put my down my wallet, camera, and keys. I was already enjoying my first five minutes among the locals, because I could tell that I could leave a $500 camera alone on the sand among nearly a thousand nice people, and it was definitely going to be there when I came back.

I was curious as to what type of personalities get up on New Year’s Day to jump into the ocean. After a quick survey of the beach, I noticed the answer was: all types. I saw the very young and the very old. I saw anxious toddlers with floaties on their arms, and I saw grandmas in their new suits laughing with each other in anticipation. They were both equally excited to begin the dip that was now just two or three minutes away.

Everyone quieted down to show respect during a beautifully sung National Anthem, then went right back to their pre-dip banter. As Mayor Zander Guy took to the microphone at the gazebo to encourage the out-of-towners (there were many) to spend all of there money in town before they left, a competing voice came from a loud-speaker in at the edge of the water. It was the voice of the man giving the final instructions before hundreds of people were going to run, plunging into the ocean all at once.

I heard many Dolphin Dip veterans saying how it actually feels good to jump in the New Year’s Ocean. I didn’t believe them. I was going to have to trick myself into getting into the ocean. I knew that I had to place myself in the middle of a large crowd immediately. That way, when the starting whistle blew, I would have no choice but to run with the mob or be run over by the mob.

The countdown to the ocean ended as quick as it began, and everybody began running towards the water. It looked like a beach-party version of a running of the bulls. It looked like these people were actually happy about doing this Dolphin Dip. I didn’t believe their expressions, either. As my feet hit the first inches of water, I realized it was about to get bad and then worse.

I planned on running about knee-deep into the water and turning around. Unfortunately for me, whoever timed the countdown, timed it so perfectly that two successive waves smashed all of us in our chests. I was getting all of the way in the ocean whether I wanted to or not. Then something strange happened; I didn’t run away from the ocean. It did feel good to be in the water. It actually felt great. I waded around with everyone for about ten long seconds and then realized I shouldn’t press my luck and started swimming out.

As I walked back to my towel, I realized that I was in fact, walking, and not running. I felt that relaxed adrenaline rush that everyone had spoken of. These professional Dolphin Dippers weren’t liars. They were onto something.