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How cold-water swimming can help our mental health this Mental Health Awareness Week 2021

7 May 2021

Hosted by the Mental Health Foundation, Mental Health Awareness Week (MHAW) is fast approaching on the 10-16 May 2021. The theme this year is ‘Nature‘, as research conducted by the Mental Health Foundation found that “millions of us turned to nature” during the pandemic and that “45% of us reported being in green spaces had been vital for our mental health”. As the week draws closer, I can’t help but think of the relevance of this theme to my research. A current MSc Postgraduate student at Cardiff University, I’ve been exploring this connection to nature for mental health but instead of walks in green spaces, I’ve been thinking about swimming in blue spaces. A project I started during the very long winter months of the latest lockdown in Wales. Yes, you read that right. Swimming. In winter. In Wales.

Cold water swimming

For those of you who don’t know, cold water swimming has been hailed the latest ‘health trend’ of 2020/21. From its potential to prevent dementia, ability to alleviate chronic pains and as a method of speeding up our metabolism, the physical and mental benefits of cold water swimming are quoted far and wide. While some people feel we need to stop banging on about this “fad”, more people seem to have cottoned onto the benefits of cold water swimming, wild swimming and open water swimming. I’ve seen a growth of groups and associated members such as the Cardiff University Wet Dippers Society, Risefierce, NUDGE Community, Swim Wild UK, blue_mind_swim…the list goes on!

Popular media aside, this interest in so-called ‘blue spaces’ and the benefits of them on our health and wellbeing has captured the interest of scientists and social scientists alike (Foley and Kistemann 2015). In my field of Geography, my research is situated in what has come to be known as the ‘blue health’, ‘blue care’ (Britton et al 2018) or ‘blue mind’ movement. So, with the specific view to research the mental health benefits of cold water swimming, it began to dawn on me that I didn’t feel I could research something that I’d never done myself. Therefore, after receiving the gift of some neoprene gloves on Christmas day, I made it my New Year’s resolution to try this whole cold water swimming thing.

My research

So, in the context of lockdown and living alone in the Brecon beacons, I felt initially frustrated that I didn’t live by the coast so I could explore the benefits of this ‘blue health’. I pictured coastal strolls, rolling waves and sparkling blue water. Instead, I stared solemnly at the browny-green water of the River Usk and decided nonetheless I would have to take the plunge.

Cut to New Year’s Day.

With my flask of hot chocolate at the ready, neoprene gloves donned and clothes laid out in order of which I would return them to my goosebumped limbs…I tried my first dip. Euphoric and triumphant I couldn’t help but think ‘well that wasn’t too bad!’. With that, I began a series of audio recordings after each swim, building up an auto-ethnography, or ‘waterbiography’ (Landreth 2017) of my own experience of solo wild swimming during the 2021 lockdown. I noted down the dates of each swim, took videos using a tripod and kept diary reflections to examine my research questions in relation to my own experience.

To build onto this auto-ethnographic account, I’m looking to hold interviews with approximately five other people who also have experience of solo-swimming during the pandemic. As this stage of the research will be conducted over the summer months when lockdown restrictions are likely to have eased, the discussions will take a retrospective approach – using prompts during the interviews such as photographs and key dates to reflect on winter wild swims during the pandemic.

To build onto this auto-ethnographic account, I’m looking to hold interviews with approximately five other people who also have experience of solo-swimming during the pandemic. As this stage of the research will be conducted over the summer months when lockdown restrictions are likely to have eased, the discussions will take a retrospective approach – using prompts during the interviews such as photographs and key dates to reflect on winter wild swims during the pandemic.

Mental Health Awareness Week

So I suppose you’re wondering, what does this have to do with MHAW. Well, this is what I wanted to share with you. No, wild swimming has not magically cured my anxiety and yes I still have low points with my mental health. However. Here are some of my learnings from cold-water swimming so far:

  1. A method for developing resilience
    After every swim, no matter how brief of a dip it was, I think ‘wow I did it, what else could I do?’. That’s a lovely tool to have to draw on when I know I’m not feeling mentally well and need a pick me up. This, to me, is what it means to cultivate mental health resilience.

  2. A more attuned mind-body connection
    Swimming (alone) in winter has made me acutely aware of my safety, how I’m breathing, and knowing when I need to come out. This extends to this idea of setting boundaries, if we can notice how we’re feeling when we’re starting to not feel well then we can return to point number 1 – making plans for when we are feeling like that.

  3. A way to find the positives
    With lockdown confining me to the UK during the darkest depths of winter, like everyone else I had to make the most of the situation I was in. Again, I feel this extends to this idea of developing coping mechanisms when we find ourselves in a negative headspace, which brings me on to my next point.

  4. An enjoyment of the outdoors, even in winter
    Never did I think I would ever sit in the snow with a welsh cake and cup of tea and think ‘I’m enjoying this’. If being active in nature is shown to be good for our mental health, then why limit that to the summer months? Cold water swimming has unlocked a year-round enjoyment of the outdoors.
  5. A new community
    Through my research I’ve joined local and national wild swimming Facebook groups and made connections with people all across the country. This is another wonderful way of building up a support network and I know there’s always people to reach out to, even if it is to talk about neoprene and water temperatures.

However, wild swimming is not a ‘one size fits all’. The recent global Coronavirus pandemic and the resultant lockdown restrictions have posed new challenges and given rise to new forms of so-called ‘blue health’. From immersions in backyard buckets of water, dipping in temporary puddles of snow melt, to living ‘through’ others’ experiences on social media. So while it’s increasingly recognised that blue spaces are good for our health, my research hopes to break down the binary of ‘blue space’ and ‘green space’ and shed light on the nuanced browns, greys and shifting dimensions within ‘blue space’ (Pitt 2018). This in turn calls for discussions around what implications this has for the category of ‘blue health’.

So, as 10 May rolls around and we think about how we can use nature to benefit our mental health, I think I can safely say that cold water swimming has been a mental health tool that I won’t be giving up any time soon.

Please read the Outdoor Swimming Society tips for how to swim safely, always do your research and take the necessary safety precautions before embarking on any swims.

References

Britton, E., Kindermann, G., Domegan, C. and Carlin, C. 2018. Blue care: a systematic review of blue space interventions for health and wellbeing. Health Promotion International, pp. 1-20.

Foley, R. and Kistemann, T. 2015. Blue Space Geographies: Enabling Health in Place’. Health & Place, (35) pp. 157-165.

Landreth, J. 2017. Swell: A Waterbiography. London: Bloomsbury.

Pitt, H. 2018. Muddying the waters: what urban waterways reveal about bluespaces and wellbeing. Geoforum, (92) pp. 161-170.