One of the many (too many!) outdoor and wild swimming groups I am a member of on FaceBook, is a local outpost of an organisation called the Bluetits, which is a good example of the lovely humour and sense of community of swimming groups in my experience. The logo for the group (below) is a playful picture of a blue bird, dressed chastely in a red, polka-dot swimsuit. But anyone who has gone swimming in an outdoor body of water in Great Britain in the winter knows that the name references a routine side-effect of the act as well.
Not that any of us are looking. We're all pretty adept at getting changed back into warm clothes after a cold dip, without flashing the wildlife too much, using a range of techniques, towels, and the sitting-down wiggle. A favourite piece of equipment, although somewhat divisive, is a changing robe, often referred to by the most common brand name of Dryrobe. These practical, if not flattering, items of clothing, have become quite divisive, with a recent sign at a Irish beach actually attempting to ban them (https://www.theguardian.com). While I suspect that the "ban" is tongue-in-cheek, it does represent some of the tensions in the wild swimming community between established swimmers and newcomers.
Even the name of the activity represents different factions - some of the old-school types say that swimming outdoors in natural bodies of water is just swimming, since it is something they have done since childhood without thinking of it as anything fancy or new-fangled; others distinguish between wild, open and outdoor swimming, since the bodies of water can be man-made or in an outdoor lido; and, others emphasize the cold-water aspect. Similarly, there is a huge range of types of swimmers, from serious-minded triathletes decked out in layers of neoprene, working on their mileage for their next event, to groups of middle-aged women who gather for a quick "swimble" or dip, before sharing cake and giggles on the shore or bank of their preferred swim spot. There are men who swim lightheartedly, too, but they are definitely in the minority, and although all age-groups are represented there is also definitely a skewing of the demographics towards the later stages of life. As an example, a recent post on one of the swim group chats was about whether cold-water swimming helped to mitigate hot flushes or not. To be honest, I am quite impressed with the men who navigate those sorts of chats graciously, to join in.
Another feature of wild swimmers, in my experience, is openness and inclusivity. You can't really be too shy if you are fumbling back into clothes after a dip in front of someone who, until 20 minutes earlier was a complete stranger. And there is something about submerging yourself in ice cold water that equalises everyone, and breaks down barriers. So I may not know a fellow swimmer's last name, but I know that they swim to ease their PTSD. Or I may know that someone I met five minutes beforehand has had a pacemaker fitted, since she cheerily told me what to do if there was a problem with it as we were getting in to the river, and that another new swim buddy has chronic fibromyalgia, that is only eased by cold-water swimming.
I can't give you statistics, but anecdotally, a very high number of wild swimmers have chronic mental or physical health conditions. It is no coincidence, therefore, that during 2020, and especially during both British lockdowns, there has been a huge influx of wild swimmers, and membership of all the online groups has soared. I am sure that some of this is due to the frustrations of many that they can no longer go to the gym or local swimming pool for exercise. But I believe that the increased numbers and passion of these new swimmers may be also due to the fact that many are drawn to and stick with the activity when they find that it lifts their spirits and eases their pain. Most outdoor swimmers have discovered for themselves what science is only just beginning to investigate and validate - that cold-water immersion seems to have all kinds of health benefits, especially for those with chronic conditions.
A beautiful, pre-COVID example of such a discovery was chronicled in a short documentary film I saw recently, called 100 Days of Vitamin Sea. In the film, a young woman who suffers from horrendous, chronic migraines, which are unresponsive to even the strongest painkillers, found relief from the frequency and severity of her affliction through daily cold-water dips in the sea off the coast of North Wales. It is a moving, and fascinating account, and in it, she and her partner, who is the film-maker, and who also accompanied her on her swims, try to find out if there is any science behind their discovery. They are led to a researcher called Professor Mike Tipton, who works at the University of Portsmouth, and originally studied cold-water swimming and cold-shock due to his concern about the dangers of the activity. In the process, he started to hear about the benefits that many swimmers report, and use to justify an activity which, in his opinion, was unnecessarily dangerous.
Dr. Tipton has researched the anti-inflammatory effects of cold-water shock, as well as the effect of vagus nerve and trigeminal nerve stimulation. He theorises that these mechanisms may be involved in some of the benefits that swimmers report. Meanwhile, Professor Giovanna Malluci, here in Cambridge, has discovered that proteins expressed by mice in response to cold-shock, and which appear to have neuroprotective effects against aging and dementia, are also up-regulated in cold-water swimmers. So cold-water therapy may be good at preventing cognitive decline in old-age. Of course, some might argue that the desire to immerse yourself in cold, muddy rivers already indicates a degree of cognitive decline, or at least some kind of madness, so clearly I may not be the best judge of that! But I do have a vested interest in finding out more about the science behind my mad hobby.
In a webinar panel to promote 100 Days of Vitamin Sea at its premiere, Dr. Tipton complained that one of the challenges of studying the effects of wild swimming was that there are so many elements of the activity that could be beneficial: the health benefits of exercise have been well-documented, there is ample evidence that exposure to nature has positive mental health effects (Mind.org), and there is also evidence that time spent in or near water has further benefits (blue gym). For example, did you know that it has been documented that people who live in coastal areas of Britain are generally happier and healthier than those who don't? (The Blue Gym Initiative).
Of course, Dr. Tipton's scientific dilemma made me chuckle, because it is also the reason why so many of us fall in love with outdoor swimming in the first place.... we are getting all of these benefits at once. That is also why, despite his concerns about the dangers of open-water swimming, many of us will continue to pursue the activity, even while understanding the risks. It will be interesting to see how many of the COVID lockdown newbies keep up the habit after gyms and pools reopen more reliably... my hunch is that some will, if not all of them.
In the meantime, I am due to meet two other Bluetits at my favourite swim spot tomorrow morning. I have not met them before, but connected with them because they live locally and were asking for recommendations of places to swim. All I know about them is that they are passionate about getting into wild bodies of water, no matter how cold, and I know that whether we become long-term friends or not, we immediately have a strong bond, and will have fun together. Not a bad start to any friendship...
