Colder than cold.

Coldwater exposure has been described as ‘a hangover in reverse’: pain for moments followed by a prolonged, wholesome buzz. It’s difficult to put the physical pain and mental process into words exactly, but once you pass the initial ‘ah f*** I need to get out’ you kind of reach this ‘almost’ comfortable zone of 'right, this isn't so bad'. It’s true that the piercing pain doesn’t last too long and, after a minute or two, your breathing settles and you accept you might not be having a heart attack after all. For me, the main benefits are felt an hour or two later: when you’ve finally warmed up and you can feel a little spring in your step, cleansed and even a little pleased with yourself. 

Keen to try? Ok, they’re some benefits. 

Boosts your immune system - the effects of cold water swimming has been studied widely. Coldwater helps to boost the white blood cell count because the body is forced to react to changing conditions. Over time, your body becomes better at activating its defences (and we could all do with a bit extra defence at the minute). 

It gives you a natural high - (and that it most certainly does). The cold water activates endorphins and this chemical is what the brain produces to make us feel good during activities. The cold water brings us close to the pain barrier, and when we’re in pain endorphins are released to help us cope. There have been times I've gone into weird states of delirious, uncontrollable laughter and not been able to explain why.

Improves your circulation - cold water swimming flushes your veins, arteries, and capillaries. It forces blood to the surface and helps to warm our extremities. Repeated exposure adapts us to the cold and after time each dip does get a little easier ( a little). 

Reduces stress - Cold water swimming places stress on the body physically and mentally. Many studies have identified the link between cold water and stress reduction. Coldwater swimmers become calmer and more relaxed. ( I definitely feel the difference in my day when I've been put it that way). 

A great way of socialising and making new friends - there is nothing that brings people together like facing a challenge and sharing the experience with another person. Early mornings are not my thing nor will they ever be, but when the group chats going off on one and you’ve all arranged to meet at 7:30 am, you really don’t want to be the first to flake. I think some people might call it ‘peer pressure’. 

Lake Coniston, The Lake District, December 25th 2020. 

              

 Lockdown 3.0 has been by far the hardest and I'm sure most people would agree. The restrictions are changing what feels like daily, actual human interaction now seems like a distant memory and of course, winter is here. The darkest, coldest time of the year, the usual months of post-Christmas isolation, only this time it's forced. Since starting cold water swimming I've come to realise that there's never a right time to do anything. I put off cold water swimming for years and then one day I just did it, regretting that I hadn't done it earlier. 

The thing I love the most about cold water swimming/exposure is that it doesn't really require a level of physical fitness. You don't need to be able to lift super heavy weights, run a sub 20 minute 5k or even be a confident swimmer. Getting into cold water requires something so much more powerful than all those things - mental resilience. 

Ask any marathon swimmer what the hardest part of every swim they do is, and you will nearly always hear the same reply. It is rarely the cold, the fatigue or the elements that they struggle with the most. For most swimmers, it is battling with the mental demons that make them doubt their own capabilities. 

That's not to say the cold isn't hard because it is. Cold painful dips allow you to practice and experience your emotions in a way you wouldn't normally, testing your safety net and pushing yourself to your limits. When it's time to get out - you'll most likely know. It's about enjoying the highs that you'll experience along the way and when you do hit a low, just remember it will pass. How quickly it passes is up to you. Once it has passed, you will be so proud that you handled it. (Honestly, it's an incredible feeling). 

'We have become alienated from nature. But the cold is capable of bringing us back to what we once lost.' (Wim Hof, also known as the IceMan). 

Dr William Bird investigated the links between the natural environment, biodiversity and mental health in his report 'Natural Thinking'. He states 'humans are a species with as much need for the natural environment as any other. However, we are also a social species that thrive in towns and cities and has prospered with the use of technology. But neither technology nor cities can replace our need for the natural environment. We have to keep a balance. By disconnecting from our natural environment, we have become strangers to the natural world: our own world. This has challenged our sense of identity and in some more subtle ways has had a significant effect on our mental health'.

When I'm in the water when the first few panic minutes have passed and I’m settling into the cold I like to imagine that this is what my body was built for. Most of us spend the winter trying to stay warm and avoid getting cold (with the worry of catching a cold). But a little bit of exposure may not be such a bad thing. The body adapts, the body changes, the body gets used to the cold. I don’t think bodies are built to sit in buildings with the central heating blasting. 

Rydal Water, The Lake District, 7th January 2021.

The joys of wild swimming are immense. But I won’t lie, some days are hard, some days are really hard. But I’ve never regretted a dip (yet ha). 

My most memorable cold water experience was an afternoon walk to Rydal lake near Ambleside with my friend Anna whereby surprise we discovered the lake had frozen over. We’d joked about breaking through the ice since September when we started swimming together and vowed to continue going in as long as we could handle it. I’m not gonna lie, Anna was definitely more up for it than me. If I were alone I’d have probably walked around the lake and gone straight back home (again the peer pressure). 

I was scared. I was really scared. We got undressed like we usually do and slowly walked towards the lake. The initial shock on my toes was harshly spine-tingling but not as harsh as I was expecting (was that my body telling me I was ready for this?) Anna picked a large stone and started smashing through the ice like some kind of cavewoman in her natural habitat. I followed suit. We needed to smash through enough to fully emerge ourselves. There was a silence in the air, a silence of women at work. 

We were in. We let the initial burn pass and sat there, taking it all in. I think I forget how stunningly beautiful Rydal water is since we go in all the time. In those short few minutes in the water, nothing mattered other than our next breath. It’s a feeling that I find hard to put into words.  

If you got here - thank you for reading :) 

I wanted to write a whole section on the risks of cold water swimming because of course, they’re risks. But isn’t life itself is a risk? Swimming outdoors is this constant confrontation of danger which scares a lot of people but It’s reminded me that those tiny risks are worth taking.  And in terms of just keeping myself sane through the pandemic, it is invaluable to me. 

Click here for all the risks involved and what safety measures you can take before taking the plunge. 

Read them, go by them, but don’t let them scare you.