Photograp
hy^ Rosee^ Woodlan
dRosee Woodland is a freelance writer and swim coach
with a penchant for freediving and fast-running rivers.
She loves cold water but isn’t quite ready to let go of her
wetsuit. Follow her on Instagram at @iswim.likeagirlPhotog
raphy^ Rosee^ WoodlandPhotograp
hy^ KatiaVastiau102 CalmMoment.com
escaping
Like many, Katia feels the benefits of being in cold
water go beyond the mere physical effects of exercise.
“We have quite a few people here [at the lake] that
joined us after a TV programme about a doctor [who]
tried to de-prescribe drugs when he took a girl with
depression swimming. For some of these people it
has worked. Some people who have been on
antidepressants and were trying to wean themselves
off and finding it really difficult have managed through
[cold water swimming]. There would probably be an
element of direct effect, an element of placebo, and then
just feeling like they were doing something. If you are
strong enough to do that [swim in open water] you
might feel strong enough to do something else – but
it doesn’t matter, it worked and that’s the main thing.”
We talk about winter swimming – which she does,
I don’t – and how you get used to the cold. “You can
call it a kind of addiction,” muses Katia. “Cold water
is a natural high.
“I always remember a woman coming here [to the
lake]. She was in her sixties and had just lost her
husband and she needed a place to be involved with.
It really gave her that push. She needed something.
And you’ve got lots of people who start for a reason
like that and just fall in love with it.
“I meet lots of people here at the lake and the first
time I meet them they are really quiet, and really shy,and they come out of their shells. What I like about
swimming is that you don’t have to be good at it.
Or rather, there are many ways to be good. You can
be good by going often, by going far, by going for a long
time, by going when it’s really cold. In the end it almost
becomes irrelevant.
“You can also just like it, which sometimes gets
overlooked! You don’t have to wait for something to be
wrong to start!”
We swim up to a lock, past a pair of swans trailing
cygnets in their wake. A red kite patrols the skies
overhead and grebes duck down, searching for
crayfish. My sore shoulder pulls at me, telling me to
turn around, but I’m not quite ready to go home.
There is always a moment in any wild swim where
everything just falls into place. And as we head back
past the bridge, the current helping us along this time,
the flow comes and I am in my element at last. The cool
water pushes against my face, my arms find their
natural rhythm and I lose track of where I end and
the river begins.Clockwise from top left: Clifton
Hampden sits on a stretch of
the River Thames; Rosee finds
her flow; Katia Vastiau sees
the positive effects of wild
swimming first-hand.