On taking a deep, cold breath

I once consumed a small quantity of liquid oxygen, which, until I actually saw it, I didn’t believe existed. It’s used in jet planes, though for what I can not tell you. I only know that it doesn’t stay liquid naturally, and that you have to consume it almost instantly before it evaporates. It is ungodly cold, and you don’t so much drink it as breath it in all at once. It is the coldest deepest breath of air I have ever taken.

If you’ve ever been skiing or boarding, you might understand this. If you ever walked out of the August in Texas heat and into an industrial deep freeze, you might understand this. If you’ve ever emerged from a camp cabin into a strikingly cold winter day, you might know this feeling. Taking a sudden deep breath of extremely cold air is an absolutely amazing feeling. It is crisp and cleansing, it has a distinct taste in your throat, and it opens your head and your chest like a balloon. It makes your mind race, and is a very brief euphoric rush. It was, quite frankly exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

For the last two days, I have been taking in great deep breaths of icy cold air, it seems. It’s scary and an unbelievable rush and very different from anything I have felt before, anywhere. I like it, so far, but I am not sure if I can stand it for long, or if I am ready for it at all. But I have to try it, I think. I hope it doesn’t evaporate, at least not yet.