
He did not go looking for the cold. The cold was already waiting.
Wim Hof was seventeen when he felt a sudden urge to step into the freezing water of Amsterdam's Beatrixpark. He came out with a feeling he would spend the next fifty years trying to give to other people.
For decades he trained in obscurity — sitting in snow for hours, sleeping outside in winter, swimming under ice with a rope on his ankle — while raising a family and working odd jobs. His first student was his son Enahm, dipped into cold canal water as an infant.
Then the records came, and the cameras, and finally a hospital in Nijmegen.

