Why PGA Tour pros (and I) are embracing cold plunge therapy for golf recovery

USA Today

a day ago

Cold plunge isn't just a trend, it's a recovery tool PGA Tour pros swear by. Here's what it does, how it helps and how it felt when I tried it.
At this point on the calendar, just about every pro golfer is tired, a little sore, and probably in need of a few weeks off. As glamorous as it may appear to people outside the ropes, Tour life is a grind. For players who maintain a full PGA Tour schedule, play in major championships and signature events, and aspire to take part in the Ryder Cup, recovery isn't a luxury — it's part of the job.
I recently wrote about recovery and some of the devices players use to get over jet lag, reinvigorate their legs and energize their bodies, but I left one thing out because it requires a deeper dive. Cold plunge has become all the rage with social media influencers, online personalities and fitness gurus, but it has also become a staple in the routines of many of the PGA Tour's top players.
A growing trend among elite players
Cold plunging, a quick dip into a tub of water kept between 40 and 50 degrees, may sound like a punishment, but it's become a preferred method of recovery for some of the best golfers in the world. Rory McIlroy does it routinely. Tony Finau did it after every round at the U.S. Open, and it has been a part of Adam Scott's training since 2008.
'It's a nice recovery tool because it can, you know, stimulate circulation so you can flush out that lactic acid and stuff like that with better blood flow,' Scott told me at the Travelers Championship. 'And, you know, mentally, it's now proven to really get you kind of boosted.'
Justin Thomas also takes a cold plunge routinely.
In a conversation with 23-time Olympic gold medalist Michael Phelps (another cold plunge advocate) filmed by the PGA Tour in 2022, Thomas said, 'You know, Saturday at the PGA Championship, I get done and I just had a terrible round. I felt like I shot myself out of the tournament. I just wanted to have dinner and go to sleep, but it's like, I know for me to feel better the next day, I need to do what I do every night and have an ice bath, especially during tournaments. It's almost a nice getaway. You're just there with your thoughts. Everything goes numb and then you get out.'
Thomas, of course, went on to shoot a Sunday 67 and beat Will Zalatoris in a playoff at Southern Hills to win that PGA Championship, his second career major.
So many players now swear by cold plunge that the PGA Tour sets up multiple plunge tubs on site each week at tournaments. McIlroy reportedly prefers to cold plunge before starting his warm-up routine to jumpstart circulation ahead of his exercises and range sessions. However, many players, like Scott, do it after they play or work out.
What does a cold plunge actually do?
The popularity of cold plunging isn't just about building mental grit (although it does that) or copying what other players are doing. There's a physiological reason behind the growing adoption among golfers and other athletes.
Cold exposure causes vasoconstriction, which is a fancy way of saying your blood vessels tighten, especially in your extremities like your feet, hands, legs and arms. This pushes blood inward, toward your vital organs. Your body is basically saying, 'Hey, this is really cold, protect the important stuff!'
Then, once you get out and the cold stops, your body recognizes it's no longer surrounded by cold, and those vessels dilate, triggering a fresh rush of blood and enhanced circulation.
'When you get done and you naturally warm up, your blood begins to pump,' said Corey Hug, a physical therapist who travels with the PGA Tour. 'So, the blood vessels constrict and dilate back and forth, you've got this pumping mechanism that's occurring, and it's pumping fluid, blood, metabolic waste, and lactic acid back up through your system, through your heart, so your kidneys can filter it out of your body.'
Think of it as a chilly cleanup. The net effect is the removal of waste and inflammation from tired muscles, leaving the body feeling less sore, more limber and refreshed.
Not just a Tour thing
Some health clubs, day spas and country clubs now offer cold plunge tanks, and you can also buy one for your home. They range from simple tubs that you fill with water and ice to sophisticated setups with water-chilling condensers that allow you to set specific temperatures and skip buying bags of ice. As you might suspect, the prices vary widely, from a few hundred dollars to several thousand. Theoretically, you could buy a big plastic recycling bin, fill it with water and ice, and hop in. You could also splurge for the model like podcaster Joe Rogan's, which starts at $16,000.
However, if you're thinking about trying a cold plunge, be sure to check with your doctor to make sure it's safe for you. Some people with heart conditions need to be careful about sudden exposure to icy water. But for most people, the jarring discomfort of submerging in cold water for a minute or two isn't dangerous. Toe-numbing, breath-stealing and shiver-inducing, maybe, but not harmful.
And if a cold plunge tub isn't in your future, a cold shower can provide similar benefits. Just make sure the water is truly cold, not merely chilly, and stay in it for at least a minute or two. If you start to shiver, you're doing it right.
A personal plunge into the cold
I can honestly say I've never enjoyed something I hate more than cold plunging.
For this story, a company called Plunge sent me one of its inflatable Plunge Air units, along with a Chiller — a compressor that lets you cool or warm the water to a specific temperature. The tub is about five feet long, three feet wide and 3 feet tall, and has a slanted end that makes leaning back comfortable. I'm 6-foot-4 and can easily extend my legs all the way out when I get it.
When I started plunging, I eased in at 60 degrees. It felt like jumping into a chilly swimming pool — refreshing, but not uncomfortable. But from there, I found it 'uncomfortable' by slowly dropping the temperature one degree at a time. I've now settled at a crisp 48 degrees, which research suggests is on the warmer side of ideal. My wife tried it and discovered that 57 degrees is her magic number.
I usually stay in for four minutes, which goes by fairly quickly after I get past the initial shock. The first five seconds are the worst. It feels like sticking your spine into an electrical socket, especially if you submerge your shoulders completely. But the sting fades fast, and after about 30 seconds, you get used to it. I focus on my breathing — slow inhale, slower exhale — and count. One full breath takes about 10 seconds, so six or seven breaths per minute help me ride out the timer without panicking or screaming.
I've noticed real benefits. My knees ache less when I walk the course, and when I wake up in the morning, I'm less creaky and sore. I feel more flexible all the time, probably from reduced inflammation and better circulation, and plunging at night cools my body in a way that's perfect for sleep (I hate trying to sleep when it's hot). However, doing a cold plunge at night, outside, is harder than daytime plunging. I'm sure it's psychological, but when you can see the sun, the same temperature water doesn't feel as cold.
You do adapt to the cold over time, but it's never exactly easy to step into that tub. It just stops feeling like punishment — and starts feeling like a reset button you're oddly willing to press again and again.