what the water gave me

#6

I started swimming last summer, because I was doing an NHS programme called ‘Tier 3 Weight Management Course’ which I had nicknamed Fat Club because I thought that was snappier. This is the 12-week programme they tell you to do if you ask for help with your weight, which I did because I’m fed up of being treated like half a human. The course was patronising and shit and the end goal was getting us to have gastric bypass surgery, which I don’t want because I don’t overeat and it has a 1/100 complication rate and a 1/1000 ‘may not survive the surgery’ rate which I think is really fucking grim. I love the NHS, I probably owe my life to the NHS, but they have absolutely no clue how to deal with anyone who is overweight for any reason other than overeating and it sucks and it’s depressing. Anyway. The course was terrible. I started swimming out of spite, which is the most powerful motivator I know.

I love swimming because you don’t feel yourself sweat and no one can really see your body. I hate swimming around other people because other people are lawless and annoying and do stuff like swim the wrong way or kick so dramatically you get water up your nose or swim backstroke even though it’s busy so they crash into everyone repeatedly or have conversations with their mates in the middle of the lane while you’re trying to do your laps. But most of the time it’s quite nice, aside from the outrageous cost, and I do feel a lot better in myself now I’m doing it regularly. I swim 3km a week which is probably not very much in the scheme of things but I like doing it and I am managing to drag myself to the pool consistently which I’m told is ninety percent of the battle. I like myself more as a result of it. I like existing more. My hairdresser and nail technician despair. I am apologetic but I have to do it. I have to get in the water.

Despite swimming so much I’m not really good at it – I only had lessons from the age of 8-11 and my mum hates swimming so I never really went as a kid. I swim a bit like a frog with no survival instincts. I’m not graceful or quick. I probably look like I’m about to drown most of the time but I’m not. Even though I’m not built for it, I do it. You know at the beginning of Bee Movie, when there’s that monologue about how bumblebees shouldn’t be able to fly but they do anyway? That’s me, but with swimming. When you swim all that matters is keeping going.

My secret is this: I bought a £50 waterproof MP3 player in 2023 which I’ve used almost every time, and it’s my most treasured possession. My favourite songs to swim to are Not Like Us by Kendrick Lamar, Cybersex by Doja Cat, Millenium by Robbie Williams and DARE by Gorillaz. (I’m always looking for recommendations if you have them – trial and error has taught me it has to have a high BPM.) It blocks out the noise and makes the swim feel a lot shorter than it actually is.

So unfortunately I’ve become someone who probably always smells faintly of chlorine no matter how often I shower it off and I genuinely enjoy telling people about how much I like swimming. On my lunch break at work I sometimes look up how to improve my form but honestly you can lead a Han to water but you can’t make her be able to kick, glide, swim with the poise demonstrated by the rest of the people in the pool. That’s fine. I like the slow lane. Underrated lane.

The reason I write all of this (aside from my pitch for a piece on swimming when you have the athletic abilities of a puddle of slime being rejected by a publication a few weeks ago) is because I was swimming today at an outdoor pool at lunchtime. I’d forgotten my MP3 player so I was left all alone with my thoughts, which I normally really dislike – public pools are normally noisy and full of kids doing swimming lessons – but by a stroke of luck the pool was very quiet. At one point it was just me, swimming in the only lido in Soho. I shouted over at the lifeguard if it was always like this. He laughed and said “No, you’ve got a better chance of winning the lottery.” So for ten minutes I did my laps and luxuriated in winning the lottery. Then another woman came out and noticing the pool was empty (save for me) she exclaimed “It’s EMPTY!” at me and I laughed and it was this really beautiful moment of kinship. Like the other day when I asked a guy to stop swimming backstroke because the pool was really busy and he kept crashing into everyone and another woman caught my eye and gave me a furious nod of approval. I normally avoid interacting with anyone at all at swimming because I’m truly there to do my laps and get the fuck out but these two interactions within the space of a week were nice. I did the rest of my laps. It was eight degrees and sunny. I could hear a wood pigeon in the garden next door and I felt alive, not in a magnificent way, but in a quiet way. Like buying a fresh loaf of bread on a Sunday morning or bumping into a mate unexpectedly.

The beginning of the year is always rough. I come out of Christmas half alive, manic and exhausted and terrified about the year stretched out in front of me. Then, somehow, January and February simultaneously last 1000 years and are over in the blink of an eye. I suffer from lack of sleep and lack of socialisation. Money’s tight. I miss my family. I always feel stretched thin, like you could poke a hole right through me. You get back to the office and everyone asks “Did you have a nice break?” and you’re like “Yes thanks” because you don’t really want to get into it. What’s the point? Everyone’s still knackered. Being alive right now is just shuffling from one catastrophe to the next.

I think the swimming has helped with that sensation. There’s probably some scientific explanation about endorphins or whatever (every psychiatrist I’ve ever had just felt someone step over their grave) and yes, yes, since my ADHD diagnosis I’m finding it a lot easier to astral project outside myself (like that one gif of Winnie the Pooh) and see more clearly what’s going on in the ole’ noggin. And maybe the fact I’m taking multivitamins and trying to eat properly is also helping? Am I saying I’m getting my life together? No. Absolutely not. I have a crippling obsession with Hello Kitty Adventure Island and I just purchased the Sylvanian Families Hamburger Stand.

But spring is so close I can almost taste it. And I will still be swimming when she comes.