About a year ago, I was dying to try Cryotherapy; even suggested it as a fun date idea, upon which I did some flimsy half-ass research (as per), got nervous, retracted and swore never to go.
Fast forward to present day wherein Cryofuel recently opened in my Tribeca/Soho border neighborhood. Lured by their on-point branding, killer instagram, and contemporary decor—oh how the mighty fall when anti-aging and seductive interiors are involved—I considered giving it a shot as this new cryotherapy destination seemed vastly different from the off putting medical-meets-tanning-salon places I’d “researched” online. Therefore after some minor contemplation, I succumbed and booked an appointment—I mean, why not, ya know? Why not burn 600 calories in 3 min? Why not have tighter skin and more collagen? Why the hell not?
But what is it exactly? Cryotherapy is based on ancient ice-therapy treatments in which you get naked (what can I say, when I commit, I commit) or wear a metal-less bikini and shutter yourself inside a stand-up device akin to the tanning beds of yore while clouds of liquid nitrogen as cold as -240 degrees Fahrenheit billow around you and alert your body to go into survival mode forcing the blood to rush to your vital organs. Then, as you exit the ice coffin, your blood rushes back out towards your limbs, rejuvenating mind and body.
Fixated on the promise of a better me with a side of apprehensive, I enlisted a girlfriend to join—figuring I’d be less likely to back out this way. Upon arrival we were greeted warmly (ha!) and escorted to the dressing rooms stocked with robes, socks, neoprene booties and gloves. After a somewhat arduous prep process I was ready and terrified, but ready. With my friend encouraging my efforts and her camera champing at the bit—because, The Gram—I slowly made my way to the cryotherapy room.
Blasting, Help Me Lose My Mind by Disclosure, I reluctantly stepped in and on the platform which raised me up so that my head was above the chamber. The icy air engulfed me as my 3 minutes began. Ok, so it’s cold yes, but not alarmingly so…then 1.5 minutes rolls around and it’s fucking cold! I stick with it. I had a baby after all, I can do this! When Ben, my cryo chaperone announced that I had thirty seconds left in the chamber, I powered through, 30, 29, 28 every second fully realized until 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and done!
As he lowered me down and released me back into the sweet caress of warm air, my body began to thaw and I felt exhilarated—almost as if I could do it again, almost. Since trying it a few weeks ago I’ve gone back twice and will likely continue to go as part of my constantly evolving wellness routine—which is basically my baser vanity regularly being upsold. But, all jokes aside, I legit highly recommend it to anyone looking for a boost in energy (check!) increased collagen (that means anti-aging ladies; check!), cellulite be gone (fo-sure) as well as a quick fat burn (uh, check! check!) In other words, all of us.
They also have an Infrared sauna; going back to try that STAT.