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The Lie That Became My Lifeline
How open water went from a childhood confession to my refuge from chronic illness
As a kid, I always loved the water. Blessed with hot summers and a swimming pool in suburban Texas, I swam competitively as a teenager. I wasn’t fast, I wasn’t especially skilled or strong, and I didn’t make much of an effort. In fact, I tended to cheat in practice: if we were asked to do three sets, I sometimes did two and a bit and said I was done. If I was asked to do 450m, maybe I’d do 350 or 400.
The Day the Coach Called My Bluff
One day, at a swim meet against other schools, the coach asked me to compete in the 450m front crawl. There was an open spot and no one else from our team to fill it. Should be no problem, he said — just like practice.
The truth was, I’d never done the distance non-stop. Not ever. I’d lied about it. And looking back, I’m pretty sure my coach knew that.
Well, the gig was up. To save face, I accepted my fate and swam that 450m. Non-stop. I probably came in second to last. I wanted to vomit at the end, my core was so exhausted. But I did it. And guess what? That became my event. I did the long distance. I was never fast and I never won. I gained something far better: a lifelong lifeline.
When Life Got Heavy
I wasn’t to know until much later — when the osteoarthritis set in, fibromyalgia and peri-menopause started to wreak havoc on my mental health, and life just became way heavier — that swimming would become not just my sport, my preferred way of keeping fit, but also my refuge from pain and a way to connect with others, with nature, and with myself.
Why I Swim Wild
Today, I swim wild whenever I can. I don’t think I’ve been in a public pool since before COVID. I shape my holidays around open water — lake, river, tarn, or sea. The need for watery weightlessness is critical for relieving the sometimes overwhelming weight of gravity on my hypermobile body. The peace of submerging and becoming one with the waterfowl, gliding quietly past moor hens and ducks, is restorative on a new level.
Beyond the personal story of chronic illness, the feeling of connection to the waters around me — and my responsibility to be their steward — empowers my voice. I now take part in the semi-annual Rivers Trust Big River Watch to test the water quality in the Nene River, and I volunteer with my local branch of the Wildlife Trust at the Titchmarsh Nature Reserve.
Taking the Next Step
All of this and more is why I sought to take the next step and become certified in leading open water swims, with the Institute of Swimming SEQ Level 2 Open Water Swim Lead qualification. I’m not a coach. I don’t train for triathlons. There are skilled people who do that.
What do I offer? Kind encouragement to take the plunge. Advice on how to acclimatise to the cold. Courage to try something that could kill you (yes, it’s always a risk) and could also make you feel amazing. It’s the best natural high I’ve come across.
Come Find Your Eden
Contact me if you’re interested in trying a guided wild swim with me and you’re based in Northamptonshire. I’m putting together offerings for small groups and one-on-one sessions. I’ll help you find your Eden in the open water.
