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The hobby that helped me cope with the death of my mother

Photo credit: Jeremy Bishop/Unsplash
Photo credit: Jeremy Bishop/Unsplash

From Country Living

Last year, I lost my 68-year-old mum to cancer. The following weeks and months were a muddle of funeral organisation, tears, intense grief and confusion, answering questions from my seven- and nine-year-old children about death. Grief sapped me of energy; of motivation for much at all apart from one thing – getting into cold water.

Not long before mum died, I had started swimming at Kenwood Ladies Pond in London’s Hampstead Heath, a secluded, tree-fringed idyll that women (no men – they have their own pond) have swum in for decades. I first heard about it from a friend who swims there year-round and had it on my things-to-do-in-London list for years.

Finally, a friend and I made it up there, quickly becoming addicted to our weekly morning dose of nature and novelty.

We started out at 16˚C. It felt brutally cold and we made an enormous fuss about getting in. Lots of ooh-ooh-ooh and possibly a bit of quiet swearing, along with plenty of exchanges about how it was making our bits ache (this is a thing) once we were in.

It got warmer in the summer, but as autumn came, we carried on swimming as the temperature dropped, wondering if we could become part of the hardcore of women who swim there year-round.

We were still making a fuss on entry, more so as it got colder. But one day, I watched a silver-haired woman who must have been in her 80s. She climbed purposefully down the ladder and wafted off into the water without a single peep. Not a gasp, not a moment’s hesitation. In that moment, I resolved to get in with dignity like her.

So, the next time, I just got in. The cold seared my skin, my hands and feet went numb within seconds, but not a sound escaped my lips and my breathing was calm and steady. My friend swimming alongside looked at like me like I’d lost my mind. "Why aren’t you swearing? Aren’t your bits hurting? STOP BEING SO QUIET!"

What it taught me is that swimming in cold water is a lot about mind over matter. If I stay calm, it feels so much easier. The feeling of invincibility is unmatched. I come out feeling that if I can do that, I can do bloody anything.

When my grief was its most intense in those early months after mum’s death, swims at the pond became my solace. When I sank my body into its murky, chilled water, it was like someone had jabbed a reset button inside my brain. I was jolted back to feeling more normal, less broken.

As my body went into survival mode, my mind couldn’t really focus on anything else and I could have a few blissful minutes of not having to think about loss. As I climbed out, the endorphins kicked in and my shredded nervous system bathed in the feel-good hormones at a time when nothing else felt good.

Photo credit: Jeremy Bishop/Unsplash
Photo credit: Jeremy Bishop/Unsplash

I swam the day after her funeral, the worst day of my life. I swam and I spotted the resident heron, poised stock-still in hunting mode; I swam past the squat little ducks that don’t blink an eye as you swim inches from their perch on the life rings. I breathed in the smell of the earthy water. It made me feel like everything might one day be OK again.

Now I’m officially addicted and never miss a week. One particularly special swim was on the winter solstice in December 2019. It was pouring with rain when I woke at 6am to meet at 7:15am. I wondered if anyone would be there at all, but as my friend and I neared the pond, we were caught up in the streams of women walking towards it carrying lanterns. Many were wearing the fluoro hats that have to be worn so that the lifeguards can see you in the dark; others had their heads adorned with wreaths of fairy lights. All were carrying food for the shared breakfast afterwards.

The rain stopped and I queued behind these amazing women, from teenagers to those in their late 80s. As I climbed down the ladder and submerged myself into the 4˚C cold and darkness, I felt a huge surge of euphoria and as I swam, surrounded by fairy-lit heads, I had to stop myself from whooping. It was one of the most memorable mornings of my 41 years.

Photo credit: Lisa Buckingham
Photo credit: Lisa Buckingham

How to get started with cold water swimming

I love cold-water swimming, but I’m no expert, so I jumped at the chance when I was invited by Cotswold Outdoor to (unheated) Parliament Hill Lido in London to swim with Welsh ice swimmer, Cath Pendleton.

This incredible mum-of-two has represented Great Britain at ice swimming. She is about to head to the Antarctic as part of a goal to complete the Ice 7s Challenge, to swim an Ice Mile (swimming a mile in only a swimsuit, goggle and hat in water that’s 5˚C or below) in all seven continents. "Swimming in cold water is my reset button," she says, echoing my feelings exactly. "To make me happy, just add water!"

Cath started out in the same way I did – just a normal woman trying something new, but now she’s a pro so I grilled her for her top tips on keeping it safe and enjoyable. Here are her pearls of wisdom…

Photo credit: Lisa Buckingham
Photo credit: Lisa Buckingham

Cath Pendleton's top cold water swimming tips:

• Start when the water is warmer and carry on as it gets colder – go at least twice a week. Start with very short swim times and slowly increase them as you become acclimatised – even experienced cold-water swimmers will only stay in for a matter of minutes at low temperatures.

• Get out while you still feel fine. This is so important. If you start to feel shivery or slow while still in the water, you’ve overcooked it and will find recovering more difficult. Staying in too long is dangerous and could result in cold incapacitation and hypothermia.

• When you get into cold water (under 15˚C), you may get a cold shock response, which results in an initial gasp and rapid uncontrolled breathing. Your heart rate and blood pressure will also increase. Be aware of this and focus on doing a long, slow out breath as you get in. A strategy I love for keeping your breath calm is to sing. Club Tropicana is a favourite…

• Do not put your head in the water until your breathing has steadied, this should take less than a minute. Wear a bubble swimming cap; if you’re not putting your head in, wear a woolly hat.

Photo credit: Unsplash
Photo credit: Unsplash

• Stay as warm as you can before getting in – keep your shoes and a down jacket (or swim robe) on until just before you get in the water.

• Never go alone if you’re swimming in a wild spot. Even if you’re very experienced, things can still go wrong. If you’re new to it, take an open-water intro class or go with someone more experienced.

• When you come out, don't take a hot shower as this will increase the rate at which cooled blood returns to your core, known as after drop, and it can make you feel very unwell. Cold water swimmers have been known to faint taking a shower, so it’s best to wait until you have fully warmed up.

• Dress immediately from the top down and wear layers. I’d recommend a thermal base layer, then a jumper/fleece followed by a down jacket [like this Rab Women’s Microlight Alpine Women’s jacket, £195, Cotswold Outdoor], to insulate you really well. Bottom half, go for long johns and fleecy trousers, and SmartWool socks are a godsend for keeping your feet warm. Add gloves and a hat to stop heat escaping from your head.

• Have a flask of hot drink at the ready to help you warm up slowly. My go-to is Winter Spice Ribena (delish – it’s like mulled wine).

• Cold water swimming is a joy, but always think safety first. Check tide times/river currents, stay away from tree-lined water in high winds etc. It’s all common sense!

If you have a health condition, such as asthma, heart problems or high blood pressure, always seek medical advice before swimming in open/cold water. To find out more about swimming in cold water, visit outdoorswimmingsociety.com or www.outdoorswimmer.com.

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