My Year of Open-Air Swimming
Building positive new habits is hard. This is what I learned making an open-air swim part of my weekly routine and how it has boosted my wellbeing, creativity and, best of all, my self-integrity.
Are you one of those people who can’t stick to things or see them through? If so, you’re not alone. I’m interested in many things and am curious to try lots of things. I’m also the queen of not finishing things… which is why the title of this newsletter is amusing to me because I don’t make new years resolutions and I hate the cold.
This is the second in a four-part email series on habits. You can find the first part here. But wait! Keep reading this instalment to find out how you can create and stick to a tiny new habit that will boost your wellbeing, creativity, confidence, fitness, headspace, bank balance - anything, really.
The Catalyst
Change is often preceded by some sort of catalysing factor. I had long wanted to become one of those hearty women who swim year-round in clean coastal waters and reap the mental health benefits. I liked the idea of it but thinking isn’t the same as taking action. Plus I live inland and open-air swimming in and around the British Isles often involves polluted water. How could I take the step from thinking to doing?
Enter: the catalyst. My youngest nephew was an eleven-year-old bundle of energy on 2 January 2022. He’d come for a sleepover and swimming trip. The problem was post-lockdown booking limitations were still in place and all the local pools in my pocket of south-east London were booked up - except for Charlton Lido. I knew the water temperature would be nippy in the open-air pool but my swim buddy insisted it would be fine; he remembered the lido from a fun (and hot!) afternoon the previous summer.
The weather on this January day happened to be unseasonably warm and technically the pool is heated. Reader: it was still bloody freezing.
The weather on this January day happened to be unseasonably warm and technically the pool is heated. Reader: it was still bloody freezing. After half an hour of games, swimming and water polo, I got cold and climbed out. I watched my nephew from the side and a woman offered me a cup of Lady Grey with oat milk from her flask. The hot tea warmed my insides as a feeling of elation began to envelop me. I was pleased to have gone to the lido and plunged into the cold water - I had actually done what I had thought about for so long - and I was very happy it was over.
Ages later my blue-lipped nephew emerged from the pool and conceded it was too chilly. We dried off and ate snacks as we walked home that winter’s afternoon. By the time we got home, the poolside euphoria I’d experienced had given way to a deep sense of calm and wellbeing. I’ve been chasing that high followed by peacefulness ever since. In a moment I’ll tell you more about how I built a positive habit without trying. First, I have question:
What or who might be the catalyst for change and new habits that you need in your work or creative life? Let me know in the comments.
On tiny experiments
As I mentioned in part one of this newsletter series on habits, I’m a fan of tiny experiments. They can be low commitment, low expectation things but they allow me to try stuff out, or in a different way, without too much attachment to the outcome.
The following weekend I went back to Charlton Lido. My nephew had gone home, the January blues were kicking in and something told me to get back in that cold water. I set the bar low and decided that just getting into the pool would be enough. If I managed to submerge my head or swim a length, then that would be a bonus.
Here’s how it went - and it’s pretty much the same way I get in today: I put a rash vest on over my togs, I pulled my goggles down and readjusted my swim cap, then I gingerly descended the steps into the shallow end. “Mother of God!” I gasped. I jogged down to the half-way point of the olympic-sized swimming chanting the same thing over and over again: “Mother of God, mother of God!”.
Eventually the cold water came up to my chest and the pool floor began to give way to the deep end; at this point I took a breath and went underneath the surface. I don’t know how many lengths I swam but I knew I wanted keep coming back. This is the deal I made with myself: if I actually turned up the following weekend, then I’d get a monthly membership and see if I could stick to this activity for a bit longer.
It’s about self-integrity
David Hieatt is a master copywriter, entrepreneur and co-founder of the Do Lectures. He decided to take a daily dip in the sea by his Welsh home. Two things helped him build a habit and achieve his goal:
He had a swim buddy who he would be letting down if he didn’t turn up.
There was one rule: he could miss a day but he couldn’t miss two consecutive swims.
Self-integrity wasn’t something I’d thought about much until I read this story. Hieatt created his habit by relying on an accountability partner and a habit stacking system ie creating and sustaining a streak of swims became something he didn’t want to break. What his new habit gave him was more than the physical and mental wellbeing boosts of regular exercise in nature. His being able to commit to and sustain an activity over a long period of time had changed how he viewed himself.
What it gave him was more than the physical and mental wellbeing boosts of regular exercise in nature. His being able to commit to and sustain an activity over a long period of time had changed how he viewed himself.
I came to see myself differently over the course of 2022 too. As much as I liked the notion of being one of those hale and hearty women who enjoy exhilarating weekend swims in Hampstead Ponds (which I’ve done one time only) or wild swimming in English rivers, I wanted even more to let go of the shame I had around starting but not finishing things. This relates to creative projects mostly, but it could also have included hobbies, activities, volunteering and more.
Objectively I knew I had completed many things in my life and I had stuck at jobs (and stayed in them way longer than I should have!), academic programmes, creative projects etc. And yet in my physical and digital homes there are giant graveyards of incomplete notebooks, Scrivener files, word docs, mini films, crafts, artworks and so on. I wanted to keep on experimenting and also become a completist more often. (Yes, ‘completist’ isn’t a word but it happens to be the name of an amazing Peckham-based stationery brand that I’m in love with. Planners and washi tape galore!)
A month of weekend swims turned into two and then three months. Soon, a whole year of regular trips to the lido had passed. I swam under the stars on frosty winters nights, I swam when the snow had not yet melted and I reluctantly shared ‘my’ pool with half of south-east London when the summer months arrived and swimming at Charlton Lido was like climbing into a bubbling vat of soup.
Self-integrity in this case was about doing something I said I would and not just doing it once or twice. It was about doing something I didn’t find easy and persisting gently. This might sound contradictory given my affection for tiny experiments and belief in giving ourselves permission try things and stop doing them if they don’t resonate or spark something. Choosing to expand a tiny experiment, like taking my nephew to an open-air pool in January, and develop a habit from it is where my self-integrity got a boost in 2022. I intend to apply the same approach to this newsletter. Want to subscribe if you’re not already a subscriber?
Building blocks
Each month my direct debit went out and I promised myself I’d keep swimming until the next payment. My nearly year-long swimming habit was interrupted by a bout of Covid in November 2022. I was sick for two weeks and didn’t feel like going swimming or was busy in the following fortnight. I was flexible about this and felt confident I would return to the lido sooner than later.
The streak I had established kept me motivated and I went back to the pool twice a week in December because I wanted to able to say to myself that I’d swam every week for a year. That audacious statement would have seemed too enormous a goal to set back in January. I also went back because it made me feel good physically and mentally.
I didn’t have any expectation about keeping this open-air swimming habit up in 2023 but so far I have because it’s become part of my routine. The lifeguards know me as a regular and my fitness and stamina have improved dramatically. And yet how it happen was anything but dramatic; it happened bit by bit.
David Hieatt’s rules are to never miss two consecutive days of sea swimming. My rules were that I would keep going weekly for as long as I enjoyed it or until the end of that month’s membership. In the early months I found the usual internal tug-of-war about whether I feel like leaving my cosy home and my sweet dog and endless cups of tea to get into a cold pool on a winter’s afternoon was easily ignored because I knew how great I’d feel afterwards. Before I knew it, I had a streak I didn’t want to break!
There is something to be said about streaks. I’m not in the least bit competitive and I don’t count lengths or keep tabs on how fast I swim but the many booking confirmations in my inbox are evidence of how many times I have showed up and I like that. I also like how my weekly and occasional twice-weekly dips give me time and headspace to think and figure out creative challenges.
Until next time,
Clare
PS. The catalysing nephew is about to turn thirteen and he’s a total fair-weather open-air swim buddy. I never saw the generous tea-sharer or her buddy again. I’ve never taken my own flask or needed one of those fancy schmancy dryrobes because it’s a (ever so slightly heated) London lido, not an open body of water so there’s a handy changing room nearby. I am friendly and encouraging to all newcomers.
PPS. In my welcome note I said the next newsletter wouldn’t be so long. Ahem. Tell me in the comments whether you prefer a long-form newsletter or short and punchy.
Urban Curiosity Events
My next One-Day London Writers Retreat is happening tomorrow. We’ve had flash fiction writers, crime writers, novelists, politicians, cookbook authors, people in need to space to noodle around with an idea, nonprofit professionals, entrepreneurs, nurses, doctoral students with a creative itch to scratch and more.
My writers retreat is for new and experienced writers. I have two spots left for tomorrow’s retreat and I’d love you to join us if you’re keen to make headway on a project. Book here if you’re in London and feeling wildly spontaneous given the time I’m publishing this newsletter. Equity pricing and scholarships are available.
Final note: be sure to add me to safe senders and drag this email out of any spam filters or promotions tabs it may have gotten stuck in. Add urbancuriosity@substack.com to your contact list to make sure you never miss a post. If you’re having probs receiving emails from me, then check this article out.
I loved this post. Thanks for sharing. I learned a new word too. completist. I’m going to use it.
Good job Clare!
I started a new habit too a few years ago. Run one mile (or more) every day (almost) with my dogs. Year one we logged 385 miles. Year two 425 miles. This year our goal is to beat 425 - we’re on track to do it!