Steph has been wild swimming for a decade, starting in Canada and continuing in the UK. Struggling to find local spots in Bristol, she joined a swimming lake where her passion grew. Inspired by the community, she embraced cold water swimming year-round. This article will interest those curious about wild swimming.
I’ve been outdoor swimming for around a decade – when I lived in Canada for a few years, it was a daily occurrence during the warmer summer months – but back in the UK, I struggled to find a good regular spot close to where I live in Bristol.
The River Avon is plagued with sewage problems like many rivers, and it is a fair distance to other spots, many of which have become incredibly busy during the summer. For years, I made the most with ad hoc swims in rivers or lakes when I was further afield, sometimes going months between swims.
At first, I would dread the chill as I lowered myself into the water. Still, as I got used to the sensation and how the cold affected my body, I began to relish the cooler temperatures.
A few years ago, I was lucky enough to get a membership at a swimming lake in Bristol, and my love for swimming blossomed in the midst of the deep-sided quarry, surrounded by moorhens and water lilies. As I headed to the lake most weeks over the summer months, I began to find a routine in my swimming. What had previously been a habit of quick dipping soon turned into something more, as the lake’s calm waters meant that I started swimming longer distances.
As summer turned to autumn, I became inspired by the community I met at the lake and started to dip my toe into the world of cold water swimming. At first, I would dread the chill as I lowered myself into the water. Still, as I got used to the sensation and how the cold affected my body, I began to relish the cooler temperatures. As double figures dropped to single figures, I became one of a growing number of people gasping and shrieking my way in, then huddling around in dry robes and eating cake as we warmed up afterwards.
Over winter, swims became a key part of my routine. These regular swims punctuated my weekly schedule in months when relentless rain made walks or cycle rides seem less appealing. The act of leaving the house regardless of the weather, moving my body and buzzing from the cold afterwards became a way to pass the time in months that previously felt dark and grim.
My love of swimming, though, is intrinsically linked to the community you find there. I have a group of people I swim with at my lake, but when I swim elsewhere – in lakes, the sea or rivers – there is an instant connection to other swimmers. From the knowing grins as you wade into a cold lake to shared hot drinks offered by a stranger on a riverbank to the laughter when a cold body from the water brushes up against you in the sauna. You come for the water, but you stay for the community.