Cath Mather reflects on the moment she decided to swim without her wetsuit, and what it changed.
In January, I signed up for the Ullswater Chillswim this July – why I did this can wait for another day, but it quickly became obvious that I would need more of a plan…
I took up swimming for Modern Pentathlon in the early 1990’s, but after a 25-year break from chlorine, I had slowly found my way back to the pool a few years before Covid. In reality, I am a late, adult-onset swimmer, and my first proper open water swimming event will be 11.4km in Ullswater.
Until January, the only swimming ‘community’ I had was the heads-up display on my Form goggles telling me what to swim, how and when. I did not have the confidence to join a masters swimming group – I didn’t really consider myself a swimmer – but I recognised the need for more than just my goggles for company on the way to Ullswater.
Some friends and I began meeting once a week or so from January to swim at the newly refurbished Guildford Lido – open through the winter for the first time in many years and ‘heated’ to 19 degrees. This was a good opportunity to get used to my wetsuit again as I had heated pool options for my other two training sessions a week.
What is a ‘real’ swimmer anyway?
I then read about the Renaissance Swimmer Club in an email that came through with my Outdoor Swimmer magazine. I spent hours mulling it over in the pool (where I do much of my best thinking). I loved the philosophy, but was I enough of a swimmer? Was I the right kind? Did it matter that I wasn’t part of a swim group already?
Or… what if it was exactly the community I needed, not only to get me through this challenge, but to make me realise that anyone who likes to get in water – warm or cold, skins or wetsuit, head out or face down, fast or slow, short or long – can call themselves a swimmer? The more open you are to trying new things in water, the closer you come to being a ‘Renaissance’ swimmer.
To prepare myself for Ullswater, I signed up for a SwimTrek marathon swim camp in Croatia. My aim was straightforward: swim 10km in one go in May. If successful, then 11.4km in July should feel achievable – psychologically and physically.
Due to adverse weather, the 10k was moved to day 3 of 4. I had only ever swum 5km four times before the trip; twice more on days one and two. The course was set as a 1km loop, conditions were lovely, and my plan was simple: get to 5km and then swim as many more loops as I could while holding pace and form.
I planned to feed at 3km, 6km, 8km, and stop if I needed. But with the smiling face of Guide Amy armed with hot drinks, peanut butter and a few gels, plus a steady stream of Taylor Swift songs running through my head, 3hrs 22 minutes later, I was finished! My goggles hadn’t leaked, chafing was minimal, I didn’t get cramp (unlike in the pool!), and I felt fine. Job done. Ullswater here I come!
The day after
The next day – Day 4 – was to be a 4km swim in the morning, followed by 2km in the afternoon. No problem, I thought. Off I set on the 4 x 1km loop.
Halfway through lap two, I realised I was absolutely shattered from the previous three days. I planned to round the faraway buoy and head back to the boat for a cup of tea and more peanut butter (that salt water is a nightmare on the mouth!).
As the boat approached, my mind wandered to the Renaissance Swimmer Club chats and seminars I’d tuned into. There was absolutely no shame in stopping at 2km; I had done everything I had come to do, which was way more than ever before, but I kept thinking… what could I try that would be new to me as a ‘swimmer’?
When I got to the steps at the back of the boat, instead of getting out of the water, I took off my wetsuit, passed it up to Amy and said I was just going to bob around a bit and see how I felt. Before this, I’d been a committed wetsuit user.
1.5km later, I boarded the boat – same pace, same form – but something completely different.
For the afternoon swim, a 2km coastal jaunt, I decided to try it ‘skins’. The boat would be close by, so if it was a disaster, I’d just signal to the guides and head back. I loved every minute of it and, despite the 17 degrees, I can’t remember ever feeling quite so invigorated at the end of a swim.
Without the Renaissance Swimmer Club, and without hearing all the inspiring stories throughout the year, the constant words of encouragement from my new swimming community (and we are everything from beginners to major straights crossers, winter swimmers to wet-suited warm water wimps like me), I never would have even thought about trying something new, let alone swimming skins in 17-degree water.
Whilst I feel proud of completing my continuous 10km, the skin swims have given me a much broader view of myself as a swimmer, and the opportunities it opens up.
Taking it further
Next month, we are off to Jersey for a 60th birthday celebration, so I asked in the Renaissance Swimmer Club WhatsApp chat if they knew anyone I could contact about swimming on the island. The response was fabulous, and plans are afoot… I will let you know what comes to pass, but I have checked the water temperature, and I’ll be packing my wetsuit, boots, and gloves!
