In 2019 I started a swim diary… recording places and times, temperatures and distances, levels of neoprene, and sometimes a whole page of description. At the end of the year, I’d logged 114 outdoor swims! I set some goals for the following year… 20 new swim locations and 200 swims. Hmmm. 2020. 91 swims and 7 new spots recorded, including the first river swims for decades.
Husband Who Swims in the Summer and I dipped and floated in lush, crystal clear sections of the river Wharfe at Bolton Abbey in June, the sun and peat creating a rusty red glow to our limbs.
On a glorious September afternoon, I joined ‘The Other Granny’ for a delightful half-hour swimming up and down the Derwent. We pootled through mirrored reflections of trees in sumptuous chilly water. Later that month, Swimmy Pal and I spent a magnificent day on the moors. We swam under a magical freezing waterfall and had a stunning swim in Butterley reservoir feed-in river – heads-up breaststroke to take in the blissful location, to the accompaniment of birdsong, lapping water and trickling waterfalls.
Unsurprisingly, I wasn’t motivated to set goals for 2021! Since March, almost all my swims have been at Swimyourswim (SYS) venues. I’ve lost my enthusiasm for ‘wild’ swimming. Social Media is awash with scary landowners, irate locals, hordes of swimmers, partying youths, litter, broken bottles… It’s a far cry from those blissful river swims of 2020 with just a few hikers and dog walkers ambling past. Anyway, I’m happy at Thrybergh, it is a fabulous place to swim, surrounded by open fields and swimming with this year’s new cygnets – and great human company. And, there hasn’t been a lot of time for long walks to remote swimming locations.
Then we went to Wales. We’d postponed a June trip to Spain for the third time and fancied some coastal path walking and sea swimming. HWSS planned for the route to our cottage to include a swim and picnic. At lunchtime we drove over a bridge and parked up. He has his uses – he’d found a perfect picnic spot on the banks of the river Vrynwy. The sun shone, nettles and mud led down to the water where thousands of tiddlers swam in formation in the shallows near the riverbank (virtual thankyou to the person who directed me to aqua socks!). There was very little current. Spotting someone with wet hair a bit further along the bank, I strolled over to chat. Apparently it was deep enough to swim towards the far bank – so deep that in summer people jump off the bridge. I googled ‘swimming in the Vrynwy’ – same info (without the jumping). I was in the water before HWSS had opened his rucksack. Delicious! HWSS joined me and we swam under the bridge.
I was starting to feel relaxed and refreshed, then there was a slight splash. Some lads on the bridge above asked me to rescue their football which was floating near the far bank. After several embarrassingly poor attempts at treading water and chucking, it landed on dry ground. They said, ‘Thanks’, and asked what the water was like.
I said, ‘’It’s gorgeous.” Yes, sometimes I’m a twit. Metaphorically kicking myself, I rapidly qualified my response with, “If you like cold water.”
To which they replied, “How cold is it?”.
Me, backtracking, “I’m the wrong person to ask, I swim all year.”
Leaving them chattering, I turned to swim back under the bridge…. and heard a very loud splash. Then another. Brief pause, then, “Its f***ing freezing,” followed by a look at me and, “Sorry for the language!”
They were lovely lads.
Applying my most teacherish, responsible voice, I said, “You do know that’s really dangerous, don’t you?”
The next two lads stripped off and jumped in.
There wasn’t much point saying anything else, they were having fun, I was a miserable adult.
It was a quandary – stay in just in case I could rescue someone if they got into trouble (sorry Boss, I know that’s not the right response… ) or get out and leave in case someone needed rescuing.
I got out and ate my picnic.
They eventually had enough and went back to footy.
As we drove back over the bridge and past the lads, they waved and, grinning, shouted, ”Bye…” They were lovely lads.
I’d bagged my SwimGoBingo ‘Take me to the River’ badge (only 3 to go). But it was further evidence that wild swimming isn’t straightforward, and I’m not sure I want to be in that position again. There are reportedly thousands of people who’ve taken up openwater swimming in the last 18 months – and it has created dilemmas for the existing outdoor swimming community. How do you encourage people to take up this fantastic sport/ leisure activity, while somehow encouraging them to be safe, and protect our beautiful countryside and natural world. I don’t think the answer is to allow everybody access to all bodies of water. There have already been too many accidental deaths in water this year – and lads (and lasses) will jump off bridges and cliffs no matter how often they’re told its dangerous (maybe that increase the appeal?). It’s not just for the great company and cake, I volunteer with SYS because I believe it’s important to provide and promote safe swimming – we have a safety crew, and we run courses for new swimmers. We all need to understand that idyllic swim spots can also be dangerous swim spots – and do the research, understand and mitigate risks, swim safely.
We had a fantastic holiday. Gosh I love sea swimming… On one beach, I was happily bouncing in the waves when another woman came to the waters edge and started tentatively edging in. She said she was waiting for someone else to get in. We chatted about swimming generally and why she didn’t want to swim alone. She said, ‘I respect the sea’. I should have asked those lads, ‘Do you respect the river?’
I think my 2021 goal should be to respect the water, respect the life in and on the water, respect the area surrounding the water – and spread that message… and be ever grateful to the people who introduced me to SYS!
See also RNLI Respect the Water information
There are several similarities between efforts to improve my cycling ability and initial forays into outdoor swimming. The finding (not purchasing – unlike swimming) of suitable kit, my padded shorts are washed and ready (sadly only one pair, … 8 swimsuits). Cycle helmet replaces swim hat. There’s that moment of wondering whether to get out of bed, then remembering I rarely regret a bike ride. The determination to explore new places. The delight when my lockdown buddy becomes my cycling buddy. The joy of exercising outdoors, its glorious in the sun. The rush of cold air setting off down the first hill. The delight at cycling along country lanes – spotting black lambs and changes in the trees. South Yorkshire is beautiful if you just take time to look. I’m loving the friendliness of other cyclists, they’re clad in full lycra and fancy shoes – but always nod, wave or say hello to the old lady travelling at half their pace in scruffy shorts & t-shirt. 
It hasn’t been cancelled yet, but anticipating postponement, in a moment of madness I agreed to join the national 2.6 challenge for British charities (#tTwoPointSixChallenge). At this point, my furthest ride within lockdown rules, i.e. starting the ride on my drive, was 14.4Km. Just like swimming, my Strava friends record 40km bike rides and I’m pootling along knackered after 14. I can’t even blame the hills, my paltry 200m elevation gain compares to other people’s 400-1,000. The challenge is supposed to be related to 2 and 6 so I thought I’d go for 2.6 x 26.2mile marathons. Don’t ask me why! It just came to me… HWSLB was sceptical but said stubbornness should help me complete the full distance.
Calculation revealed this means cycling 110 Km (68 miles). At least no-one will be watching, and there’s no mass start, or 100s of cyclists to arrive back before me. So that’s what I’m doing. On Friday I did a training ride (laughs at this description) and managed 17.4km – I’d have to do that for 6 days. Saturday was a rest day. Sitting in the sun… We devised an alternative route – one extra big hill but a bit of extended flat (how I long for a flat road). My challenge runs from Sunday 26th April to 2.06pm on Saturday 2nd May.
Swimming in cold lakes up to three times a week restored my equilibrium through the winter, kept me focussed, gave me a place to leave the darkness. Most days I walked out of the icy water refreshed and ready for whatever life threw. Next week we’d booked 4 days near Wastwater. It was time to conquer the coldest, deepest lake. We were ready! For May we booked a remote apartment holiday in the Picos de Europa… walking & sea swimming. Not going to happen (although bizarrely Brittany Ferries have taken our final payment…). My favourite kinds of holidays. But hey ho, we’re all in the same position. And I’m retired, we can re-book whenever it’s possible again.
Lots of swimmers have invested in large paddling pools, some creating resistance with bungees! But I’ve realised that even if we had the space, felt it was a good use of saved holiday funds, and had somewhere to tie a bungee… it holds no interest for me. What I miss is the open water, the views, swimming with birds, the changing colour & feel of the water, the freedom of space & time. I miss my swimming friends and the chat. I miss sharing breakfast after a Saturday morning session and watching the wind to assess safety conditions for afternoon swims..
So… I close my eyes, and I can imagine the pull and glide of my arms, the fresh water dropping off into the lake, the delight of clear underwater vision, the swans landing close by or geese flying overhead. Sitting in the garden in the sun, I can remember our trip to the Lakes last summer. Me and Swimmy Pal floating in a delicious cool lake surrounded by mountains, then warming up in the sun with hot tea and cake. I can feel the freezing spray flashing my face, swimming against the tide at Tankerton in February. I imagine the sand under my feet as I walk down the beach to the waiting water at Druridge Bay. And it’s there I find peace that brings measure and perspective to the day. Its easier on these warm days, butterflies, birds, bees, tulips & daffodils, tadpoles – all holding promises of summer, new life, and corny as it sounds, hope of change.
On dark days, there isn’t much that lifts the clouds in my head. Takes away the guilt that I’m not doing enough (I’m not working on the frontline), the guilt of being the cause of friction and tension in the house, the desperate feeling of longing for my family and closest friends. Depression is not rational. Depression does not respond to being told to be cheerful, to get over yourself. Depression finds safety in running and hiding . Oh isolation how you feed depression, giving it substance to lock its horns on doubt and guilt and fear. Fear of failing, of not doing the right things or saying the right things, when those things matter so much. Now you know why there hasn’t been a blog. This is for all my friends struggling to cope. And the people who support them. We know we’re luckier than many, we know there is much to be thankful for, but we still have days when life looks bleak. Please don’t judge our inability to ‘like’ all your posts and follow all your antics. Our peculiarly wired brains sometimes find your joy hard.
But maybe we are also more resilient – these thoughts relate to our depression, not to our situation. We know about coping strategies. We know about finding activities that take us away from focussing on ourselves and set the black dog free. So I’ve started cycling regularly – and today, with the 5th outing, I found a perfect 10k route – enough hills to challenge, enough distance for a good stretch out, fields with lambs and daffodils, streets with dog walkers and joggers. Cool wind on bare arms downhill, sun and sweat on the up-hill – this is my new escape. My very good friend (not a swimmer) has gone back to music, to performing his own songs…on YouTube! My goodness they are a blessing to me – and releasing his creativity and trying new ways of sharing his songs lifts him.
I love SYS Saturday sessions – swimming and helping shoreside. I’ve made some great friends, in and out of the water. Ask anyone who swims outdoors with a group and they’ll tell you they’re part of a swim community or family. On Saturday mornings there’ll be upto 40 regular winter swimmers, people on courses (training to support cold water swimmers), and others waiting to swim Ice Miles. This cold water swimming malarkey isn’t straightforward! Warmer than average air temperatures mean the lake temperature has yoyo-ed between 5 and 7°C… never below 5. Its stressful for swimmers on standby for weeks for Ice swimming challenges, disappointed at another swim cancelled because it isn’t cold enough. Read 
A 15 minute swim at 5.5C is glorious. It’s absolutely true – you come out feeling alive and refreshed and ready for anything… well… first you have to get dressed… then you’re ready for anything. Worries drop away with the first shock of freezing (yes, I know… not literally freezing) cold water on skin. Concentrating on regulating breathing, making sure your pals are OK, daring to try some face-in front crawl, the sharp sting developing in legs and arms – they all distract from whatever was occupying sleepless nights. Its marvellous. You may hear Swimmy Pal and I shouting, ‘Are we having fun yet?’, ‘This is not nice,’ ‘Sorry I’m so effing sweary today…’ or ‘No it is not wussy to wear socks and gloves.’ But we’re always glad we swam. With SYS we know we’re safe, we can push ourselves a bit further. I love the SYS safety crew* – visible on a boat or the shore, holding out your warm ‘Dry Robe’ when you get out. Sometimes shouting encouragement* or ‘friendly banter’… I’m learning how my body and mind respond to cold water at different temperatures and in different weather conditions. Learning to get out wanting more, not staying in too long and feeling grim during inevitable after-drop. I’ve worked out how many layers I need post swim, what hot drink works best, and the value of a hot water bottle!
Swimming with a local Facebook Swimming Group is a different experience altogether… no safety crew, no warm changing room. But there’s nothing like driving over the moors to a beautiful reservoir and swimming 8 minutes of heads-up breaststroke in a woolly hat with a few friends. This week after 5 minutes of bitey cold swimming, we spotted a rainbow above the trees and distant moor. Splendid. That’s why I do it! I arrived home refreshed and invigorated for a day’s work.
To keep up distance, I’ve paid for winter membership at the fabulous 30m spring water pool in Matlock (outdoors, unheated, average winter temp 16-17C). I’m aiming for weekly visits. There’s no point banging out lengths in a chlorine box if I hate it – I’ll end up with no motivation, disappointed at my failure to keep going, and guilty at lack of exercise. Going to Matlock takes half a day – but definitely helps my mental equilibrium. Local indoor pools are quite good at inducing grumpiness.
Never underestimate the power of a swim family. My SYS family swim with me, shout at me, feed me cake…. They’ve encouraged and stood by me when life was tough, and had me laughing till I cried. We’ve had dryside adventures supporting swimmers to achieve goals that blow my mind (total respect to the extreme athletes I’ve watched and supported in 2019), we’ve swum in beautiful places in the hot sun and struggled in choppy lakes in wind, hail and rain. I can’t thank the volunteer team enough for their friendship and support. Find a swim family – it’s brilliant – and with pals alongside, your confidence soars.
On a cold, murky Saturday, with pouring rain bouncing off the 10C lake surface, and no Swimmy Pal, I managed 20 minutes. My swim diary says, ‘Mostly enjoyed it!’, it must have been OK then… Swimmy Pal was starting a new job so we planned a last swimming outing. We went to New Bath Hotel in Matlock and had a gorgeous swim. The air was 10C, the 30m open air pool’s natural spring water was 17C. Delicious! The cold air added plenty of tingle… sitting in the pub for lunch we experienced full-on extremity pins and needles. A great way to spend our last full day of Swimmy Pal’s ‘freedom’ and a reminder of the joys of winter swimming! On Bonfire Night we had a stunning Swimyourswim night swim. The inky black starry sky erupted with fireworks at regular intervals as we swam through perfect, calm 10C water, in skins with gloves and socks. We swam towards the end of the evening – when most people were enjoying post-swim pie and peas. It was incredibly peaceful and relaxing… just joyous. It was the perfect lead into winter swimming – but 2 days later I was on my way to Africa with the children’s charity Global Care.
Swimming in Uganda is always a challenge. Most of our Ugandan friends can’t swim – no opportunity or no reason to learn. We’ve occasionally had access to a pool, but limited chance for long swims. The first week we worked long hours with no time to swim, the second week was spent in rural South West Uganda – not a pool in sight. We watched children swimming in swamps and muddy ponds… but weren’t tempted. We had a rest day in Entebbe before flying home. The hotel ‘pool’ turned out to be more of a paddling-pool. We saw boys and young men swimming in Lake Victoria but decided to be wise and not risk Schistosomiasis (snail fever). The ‘swimming at own risk’ boards took me back to defying ‘no swimming’ signs! I’d rather risk the wrath of Yorkshire Water than those little parasitic flatworms. A visit to the Uganda Wildlife Conservation Education Centre reminded us of other delights in Ugandan lakes … crocs and hippos.
The next day I was up early and watching a beautiful sunrise on the drive to Hatfield. The lake glistened in the morning sun, reflecting the glorious Autumn reds, golds, and oranges of the surrounding trees. Frosty grass and paths added to the magical scene. It was Ice Qualifier day – over 50 swimmers were taking on 1.25Km at 6.9C in preparation for Ice Miles when the water temperature drops below 5C. It was a busy morning but by the end I was up for a dip with some of the other volunteers. I only managed about 7 minutes and 225m but it’s a start and I loved it. We were reminded, ‘It’s always better to get out wishing you’d stayed in longer than the other way around!’ It’s true… looking forward to next week and hopefully a longer swim with Swimmy Pal.
Readjusting to ‘normal’ life is always hard after a Global Care trip. Safe running water, reliable power, food variety… and I’m beginning to realise that even swimming is an example of Western privilege. I’m thankful that I can swim in safe lakes with friends and have the support of a qualified safety crew. I’m thankful for leisure time, for motorways and tarmac roads, for expendable income that can be spent on sports activities and kit. I’m still amazed at my life choices, that nowadays when the temperature is -1C I’ll spend Saturdays swimming outdoors or supporting other swimmers to achieve their cold water swim goals. But… you have permission to remind me to appreciate my life, not whinge about the cold, and not take anything for granted.
Swimming in the second half of October was a bit tricky. Swimmy Pal’s enjoyment at returning to the water led to a 1km swim at Thrybergh lake accompanied by the birds and occasional appearances of the sun. At 13.5C the water felt cold, but I was spared the numb extremities of the previous swim. Next, we swam for 30 minutes with the FLOWS group at ‘Caroline’s’ on a beautiful crisp Autumn evening, the water calm and cool. My Husband who has Retreated from the Water walked round the RSPB nature reserve spotting dusk wildlife, including a kingfisher and a family of hares. It’s a glorious place and such a privilege to be allowed to swim in the lake. With loos, a visitors’ centre, and friendly wardens, it’s altogether a brilliant find. Sometimes Social Media (in this case Facebook) comes up trumps.
To keep up our acclimatisation, we joined a group swimming early on Friday morning at a lake near my home. We had a good swim, enjoying the company and cool, fresh, incredibly still water. The sun rose, shining warmly through the clouds as we headed for shore, creating shimmering ripples as our hands broke the lake surface. However, we weren’t sold on the location, overlooked by office blocks and houses and in earshot of M1 traffic. We agreed we’d happily drive the extra miles for a rural lake and birdsong. Shivering in a car sipping hot chocolate is a good place for confessions! We both admitted we’d felt slightly anxious and tense throughout the swim. We like to think we’re adventurous and brave… but reluctantly acknowledged we’re not naturally ‘naughty’ and the prospect of angry wardens weren’t helping the experience of swimming on an industrial estate. Despite all the swimmers who’ve told us its not a problem and we’re not breaking the law, we feel uneasy with those flipping ‘No Swimming’ signs.
Across the country, swimming groups are petitioning for their right to swim in inland water on open access land… with varied success. I guess its another risk associated with open water swimming and it’s an interesting debate. I did love reservoir swimming in the summer and although I’d never go alone, I’m sure I’ll be back. My reading does make me wonder how many other byelaws I’ve un-knowingly disobeyed! Mostly it just reinforces the pain of loving swimming outdoors and not being near the sea. Thank goodness I’ve got SYS Winter sessions and the reasonable attitude of RSPB St. Aidan’s, who asked swimmers to help design and word their safety notices.
I went to Caroline’s. It was a totally different experience. With hands and feet encased in 3mm of neoprene, my body loved the tingle and sharpness of chilled water. As the sun set and the sky turned a glorious red, swans flew over the lake and coots joined us in the shallows… and I relaxed. It was delicious. Shivering was minimal. So, pride is back in the box and we’ll go with socks and gloves for now – and if acclimatisation is a continuing joy, maybe I’ll try 100m without them each time I swim. Looking forward to Thrybergh tomorrow…
I’d planned a blog all about our attempts to get her reacclimatised to our increasingly cold lake. I imagined a day of paddling, propped up on the safety crew, then a day of floating… slow and steady. However, on Return to Swimming Day 1, Swimmy Pal was so excited to be allowed to swim that she thrust the boot, her DryRobe and an extra foot wiping towel into the Safety Crew car, limped down to the water’s edge and entered the water more quickly than I’ve ever known her. The sore foot faff was noticeably shorter than ‘no wetsuit the water is cold’ faff! My Husband who Seems to be Swimming in Cold Water came too (he’s back in his wetsuit having significantly less bioprene than us), and we were well prepared to assist. As we walked side-by-side into the cool lake, SP refused all arms/ shoulders to lean on, only asking for a bit of rock spotting (“…don’t want to stand on one of those”), and she accepted help from Safety Mike to get out. Despite the discomfort of a broken elbow and foot, and the peculiar method of forward propulsion (we debated a ‘Name that Stroke’ competition), Swimmy Pal swam 3 small loops. It was a beautiful evening. Thrybergh at its best …17.4ºC flat calm water reflecting the sun, lots of geese, coots and swans for company, and fun shoreside chatter.
While she was wearing the boot, we’ve been limited to dry days and places where water access is straightforward – flat, not too rocky, not too far to walk. However, this week I took SP to Caroline’s lake at St Aiden’s nature reserve. The rain stopped but the wind was up as we walked down to the lake. We had a delicious 25 minutes in chilly choppy water (recorded at 12ºC the day after). Cold water swimming is back! Tingling and shivering we quickly changed back into multiple layers and sat in the car with warm drinks before setting off for home. We looked back at our swim diaries and happily realised SP has never swum in water that cold without a wetsuit and 13.5ºC was previously my lowest temperature without neoprene socks and gloves. It was my first ever experience of numb toes driving home – need to come up with a better foot warming strategy.
SYS are running a 
In other news, I failed to reach 100 outdoor swims in September – but it felt good to hit 100 on 2nd October with Swimmy Pal, and at Thrybergh with my SYS family. I suppose I should come up with a goal for number of open water swims in 2019. Since I’ll miss 3 weeks when I’m in Uganda with Global Care (more of that another day), it requires a bit of thought. I also had a piece about my ‘Swim Story’ published in Outdoor Swimmer magazine which I’m pleased about – though not the size of the post-swim grinning photo (Yes HSSCW, I forgot to credit the photo to you – sorry). Apart from academic articles, this is the only time I’ve had something accepted for publication. Swimming is inspirational in so many ways. I also heard this summer that two of friends who live elsewhere are giving front-crawl and outdoor swimming a go after seeing how it changed my life. No pressure to keep smiling then…
If Life gives you Melons 