Monday 18 January 2021

Finally Discovering The Joy of Cold Water Swimming





The wonderfully patient Kim and I.



It was 3 years ago when I attempted an ice mile
 (a one-mile swim in water temperature of 5oc or less, wearing just a standard costume, goggles and one hat - under the International Ice Swimming Association rules). It was my first cold season, and after nailing a mile at 10oc a few weeks prior, and then the qualifying swim, I was feeling confident, and I’m embarrassed to admit, I really thought I had an ice mile in the bag. I was taking this very seriously. I’d had my medical, I’d swum every weekend and in between swims, had daily cold showers, turned the heating down at home (I’m not heartless, I bought my family hot water bottles), I’d done the research, I knew the risks, I’d sought advice/tips from previously successful ice-mile swimmers, and I was determined. I was ready. Or so I thought.

At the time, I was swimming a (non- cold) mile in around 28 minutes, and knew that this would take longer, however hadn’t banked on how much so. The cold had such a dramatic impact on the swim that after swimming 1,250 metres in 4.5oc, which had already taken me 40 miserable minutes, I called time on the swim (unbeknown to me, the boat had just radioed to the shoreline they were calling it). I realised, after one of my ‘checking in with myself’ moments, that my stroke was all over the place, as well as my thoughts. I knew I wasn’t going to complete it. 

 

I was shocked at how only a drop of a few degrees in temperature could have such a massive impact on my capability to swim. I hated every long, difficult second of it, and so decided after a frightening long and horrid recovery, of which the first part I have no recollection of, but am assured by the swim buddy that my dignity remained intact, apart from the bit where I spat out the Mars Bar that someone attempted to get me to eat (Sorry Claire!), and how long it took me to come round (I thank goodness I had such an amazing and experienced team around me), that cold swimming was not for me, and that I wouldn’t be doing it again. 

 

And I didn’t, but skip forward to this winter season, and I have no idea why I changed my mind, but I did. To be honest, it could have been on the back of being deprived of open water for most of the year, or just that I realised that I could swim through the winter, and if I didn’t pressurise myself into doing a certain distance or time, I could still get my fix… that’s if I could manage to get in in the first place.

 

I wanted to swim, but I also didn’t want to suffer for it again, and so wondered if I needed to approach it from a different angle. Was there a way of getting in without the involuntarily need to swear or gasp or want to immediately get out again?

 

So, basically, I did 2 things, firstly downloaded Wim Hof’s free ‘Win Hof method explained,’ then bought his book (more about this another time), and secondly, spoke to a swim friend, Kim, who lives locally to me (handy) and happens to also have competed in the IISA GB Championships last year in the 1km event (and by all accounts did pretty well winning her age category and 5th lady overall), and so if there was anyone that could show me the way, I felt confident it was her.

 

Thankfully she agreed, but wasn’t giving me any time to change my mind, arranging to meet the following morning – really early, which on the bright side meant I had the luxury of only one night to over think and over pack several towels, flasks, hot water bottles, snacks, socks, gloves, hand warmers, hats and silver blankets (they go everywhere with me) – all of which were transferred to a spreadsheet ready for transferring to my car. There was also enough time to re-familiarise myself with the dangers: cold shock, hypothermia and after drop (I’ve written blogs about these before), refresh my memory as to the signs I needed to get out, read several papers by Professor Mike Tipton (et al), have a stern pep talking to by the swim buddy, who informed me that as she didn’t want a replacement swim buddy and I was to return in one piece otherwise she would be mad as hell, and to start reading my Wim Hof book.

 

Kim arranged to meet me on a country lane, in the middle of I have no idea where (even though I live not a mile from the ‘venue’). I was busily unpacking the gazillion items of kit I had brought in readiness for every eventuality, when I noticed Kim had pulled out the smallest bag out of her car, and began walking towards me. Glancing into my car, she raised her eyebrows and instead of complementing me on my organisational amazingness, suggested that I just bring what I actually needed, instead of multiples of, however I decided that on this occasion better to err on the side of caution, and brough everything with me on what felt like the longest, off piste, and frankly difficult walk in the world, to the riverside.

 

I have to say, the setting was amazing, and as we got ready we discussed an emergency exit plan, she told me the location of the nearest defibrillator, we text our location to a relative, and swapped emergency contact details, and then despite me already deciding that I would put no pressure on myself to stay in the water for a certain period of time or distance, I found that old habits die hard, and informed her of how long I would be staying in… Kim informed me that there would be no such timings going on, and that we would get out when we felt we needed to, if not before, and because I was scared she would change her mind about swimmig with me, I agreed. 

 

By the time I was ankle deep in water, I was already making a huge fuss, Kim was half-way across the river at this point (yes, that’s how long I was taking), and after hearing my colourful wording she swam back towards me, and told me to calm down and just breath. No drama, no big deal. Just stop faffing about and steadily get in. And because I wanted to impress her, and to stop upsetting the wildlife, I did. 

 

It was utterly amazing, and after a minute of focus and controlling my breathing (quietly and calmly as instructed), I was actually swimming, and loving it. Not only that, I was able to appreciate my surroundings, and the wildlife, including the huge bird that flew over that I mistook for a pterodactyl, but Kim, who suddenly turned into Bill Oddie, assured me it was actually a heron, and the large body of foam that seemed to be increasing the nearer it got (I’m talking Triffid fast), that I was determined to avoid, even if it meant elbowing Kim out of the way… fortunately, it didn’t come to that, but I also learnt that the foam was nothing to worry about and was ‘probably nothing more than dissolved organic matter’ – so dead stuff basically.

 

Kim suggested that once my breathing had normalised, I should join her in the middle of the river, but I was having none of it. I was happy for her to explain about our surroundings from nearer the water’s edge – even if it meant she had to shout them to me. I wasn’t yet confident enough to venture that far out – even of it was probably only 10 meters away. 

 

After I don't know how long, my hands had started to claw. Knowing that was a good indicater it was time to get out, I made my way to the side. Getting out and changed was a challenge. I had forgotten how uncoordinated and clumsy I became until I stood on my trainer, drenching it in river water, and then went to reach for my top and accidentally dislodged my gloves, which I discovered when rolled into a space saving ball was able to travel unexpectedly quickly into the river. I would usually have chased after them, however my state of half undress prevented this. Thankfully seeing the events unfold Kim appeared, like the shop keeper out of Mr Ben, and retrieved my wet gloves further down stream, but to be honest, it was no matter – I had a spare pair. 2 spare pairs in fact…


Sitting on the river bank afterwards, having recovered from a distressing river side episode where Kim had to rescue my toe from my sock, drinking the coffee out of the world’s biggest flask, with one wet foot (no, I didn’t think I would need spare footwear either), and wearing my spare gloves, I couldn’t have been happier. I had managed to get in with little fuss (after my initial huge fuss), I had followed Kim’s guidance and thoroughly enjoyed my time in the water, however long it had been, it hadn’t mattered, what had mattered was that more than anything else, I wanted to swim again… The transformation has been quite remarkable really, from not wanting to get into any water under 12oc, to looking forward to it. No pressure, no expectations, just swimming, and so huge thanks to Kim, her endless patience, fascinating nature facts, company and very quick reflexes. 



Thanks once again for reading, and for more regular swimming updates, please head to my FaceBook page and group, Instargam or Twitter @ Open Water Woman




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