out of the gate.

You know what will instantly wash away all of the hassles of the previous year?

Jumping in an icy river on January 1.

After my initial doubts, I went back to the Mon for the fifth-straight year — and I’m glad I did.

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This year was not without some unusual problems. Jenda somehow managed to break her finger, probably while climbing out of the water; and while we all usually end up with some scrapes, Sorg had one cut deep enough that he got himself bandaged up by the EMTs who watch all the idiots — and by that, I mean us — every year.

I’m especially proud of the first-timers who we conned into joining agreed to join us on Tuesday morning. Frank is perfectly suited for such foolishness, Bob DROVE FROM MORGANTOWN SPECIFICALLY TO PLUNGE, and my co-worker Jenny — despite hyperventilating about this for pretty much two days prior to the event — showed up in her bathing suit, even while claiming she hadn’t yet made up her mind. Like all the others who have joined us for the plunge, they all rocked on New Year’s morning and are all certified bad-asses in my book.

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My friend Michelle — who showed up again to take pics of the craziness — noted that once I’m out of the water, I always seem to have a smile on my face. And that’s probably why I did it again. And will do it again. And again. And again.

Happy new year, yinz guys. I hope we’ll see you on the wharf in 2014.

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