Reasons Why I Keep Immersing Myself Into Almost Freezing Water
"...and then I will drown."
Last autumn, I kept seeing references to ice swimming or winter swimming, and I became curious. I saw a Facebook post about a beginner’s group led by a young woman named Jaanika, who promised to step us through our first time into the water with a sauna session afterwards. The water and the air were the same temperature, she told us, 5°C (41°F) which wasn’t technically winter swimming but cold enough to start.
I had refused to swim in the Baltic that summer because at 16°C, it was too cold. I’m not sure why I thought swimming in November was a better idea. But I attended the event and climbed down the ladder into very cold water.
Afterwards, I had no recollection at all of being in the water or how I got out again. I resolved to keep trying until I could stay in the water long enough to think a coherent thought. I began to attend Jaanika’s weekly swimming session. The other participants had a clear goal: swim to Motivation Point and back, a small blue sign on a dock about twenty metres away. My goal was to be brave enough to let go of the ladder.
By the end of the season, I managed to swim around the floating dock, from one ladder to the other, a distance of about 7 metres. “That’s the furthest I ever swam,” I said as I got out.
“That’s because it’s April” said one of the more experienced swimmers. “By July, you’ll make it to Motivation Point, no problem.”
There’s an annual event in Tallinn, the IceSwim Festival, in which winter swimmers are take part in three days of ice-water fun. It kicks off with a night event, a men vs women relay race and an attempt to break a world record. My Estonian is very poor so I’m not 100% on what world record we are trying to break, just that there is one. The second day is the Estonian Open Winter Swimming Championships. The third day appears to be just generally splashing water at each other.
I’ve signed up for the relay race on Friday and the 25-metre breaststroke event on Saturday, in the women-over-50 category.
Ten reasons Why I Keep Immersing Myself In Almost Freezing Water
I am trying to learn to embrace winter
Supposedly cold water swimming is super-healthy (but I should note that I am sneezing while writing this)
Ice Swimming is outdoors and not a contact sport, thus unlikely to be interrupted by pandemic measures
The ice swimming community is full of fantastic friendly people
Swimming in very cold water has never made me bleed, unlike the water slide at the local pool
It makes me feel brave whereas all I actually have to do is forget, every week, how goddamn cold it was last week
Winter swimming is said to slow the onset of dementia although that might work against the previous point
If I stay in the water for a whole minute, people are impressed, as opposed to most other exercise where I’m expected to keep going for 30 minutes or even longer
I’m not shocked at how I look in a bathing suit in the summer as I’ve been wearing it all winter
One day I might actually feel this “natural high” that Winter Swimming websites keep telling me will happen
I keep writing lists of almost-believable reasons I can give to justify why I signed up for the IceSwim Festival this year but in the end, it comes down to: 2021 has been a shitty year. I just want to achieve one thing this year that I worked hard for. And right now, with no travel and no book and no single thing that I can hold over my head and say “I did this. I made this. I achieved this.” well, it seems like my options are limited. So that’s why I signed up. Because 25 metres doesn’t seem as far and I thought that with six weeks of training, I should be able to do it, especially with people counting on me.
Assuming I don’t drown, that would be my big achievement for 2021: I swam in ice water and I lived to tell the tale. Not much, but it is mine.
As a part of my training, I followed a group of other swimmers to a lake where I experienced my first ice hole. Someone had chopped away the ice near the dock that morning and ice swimmers came and go all day long. One by one, we descended into the icy water and smiled for the camera and climbed out again.
Jaanika, attempting to help me take advantage of my photo opportunity: “Hold up a piece of ice.”
Me, slowly dying of hypothermia: “I can’t find a piece that I can pick up.”
Jannika: “Not behind you. Look near the dock. Look, there.”
Me, trying three times to successfully pick up a slippery piece of ice I’ve found: “Like this one?”
Jaanika: “Well, OK, I meant a bit smaller but OK. Smile.”
I needed both hands to hold onto the piece of ice. I kicked my feet hard to keep myself upright. As I lifted it up, I realised that I was not going to be able to keep this up for very long. I didn’t think “…and then I will have to let go of this piece of ice that I am holding.” Instead, I thought, “…and then I will drown.”
“That’s enough,” I said aloud and dropped the ice with a small splash and pulled myself out of the water.
But I have photographic evidence: I kept smiling.
My training consists of swimming every Wednesday morning and the occasional cold shower.
My ability has improved vastly. Last week, I let go of the ladder and swim around the dock, twice. Admittedly, I got out in between and sat in the sauna for twenty minutes to warm up but nevertheless, last Wednesday I swam a total of 14 metres.
The race is in ten days.
I have purchased a new bathing suit and a very exciting fuchsia dry robe designed by a local Estonian winter swimmer. I’m sure both of these things are critical to my success.
This might be a spectacle. But at least I can look good while doing it.