Coming out of Wintering; How Cold Water Swimming Saved Me

Hello dear reader.

After being on the waitlist at my local library for

Katherine May

‘s book, Wintering, it finally arrived. I’ve been wanting to read it for a while, but as they say, the book will find you when you are ready for it.

While I haven’t finished the book yet, I recognize I’ve been in this wintering period she so eloquently describes.

“Wintering brings about some of the most profound and insightful moments of our human experience, and wisdom resides in those who have wintered. In our relentlessly busy contemporary world, we are forever trying to defer the onset of winter. We don’t ever dare to feel its full bite, and we don’t dare to show the way it ravages us. An occasional sharp wintering would do us good. We must stop believing that these times in our lives are somehow silly, a failure of nerve, a lack of willpower. We stop trying to ignore them or dispose of them. They are real, and they are asking something of us. We must learn to invite the winter in. We may never choose to winter, but we can choose how.”  

After a period of lying fallow and dormant—2 years, 8 months and 14 days to be exact, I’m coming out of my wintering. This is how long my body needed to feel the stirrings of spring, hope, change, courage, strength.

I am strong.

I am worthy.

I am.

All those mantras being repeated in my early days of wintering, with the knowledge they were hollow, but in the hope, one day, they wouldn’t be.

The stirring. It’s there inside me. Finally.

Lying in bed, an itchy thought keeps scratching around the edges of my brain. Get up and run.

What?

Run.

Why?

Run. Move. Go.

I waited to see if the feeling would pass. It did not. The voice in my head kept getting louder. Lying prone, I made a mental note of where my running gear was located in my new house. Packed in a box in the basement? No. I took inventory of what is in my dresser and closet. After downsizing, I knew I had at least one of each item. This long sleeve, that jacket, a running cap, the right socks. (Those who run know how important the right socks are for running.)

I was making mental notes so I wouldn’t come upon the thing that would halt me in my tracks. Would it be the socks? No, I had a good pair in my sock drawer. I had been walking a lot, so good running socks weren’t going to be the excuse to hold me back. I had no excuses.

I knew exactly where my beautiful pink and purple runners with the pristine white soles were. They were tucked away. Waiting. Bought a year ago with a faint hope that one day…I might run again.

I got out of bed, determined to run.

Decisively, I told my husband, “I’m going for a run.” He rolled over, “What? Are you sure?”

His unsureness only emboldened my sureness. “Yes.”

Putting on each piece of clothing that would carry me along, was like putting on an old familiar coat. But one you hadn’t seen in a long time, so it felt brand new again. All suited up, I laced up my runners for the first time. The purple and pink on my feet brightening my day before a step was taken.

Running shoe colour is important. I know they say size, fit and comfort—which of course is important, but colour sets the mood. If you are a reluctant runner like me, you know what I mean. I don’t love running, but I love the feeling—fleeting as it may be, of the post run bliss and sense of accomplishment. The sweat dripping, the breath ragged and your heart pounding as it tries to find it’s happy place again. The steady rhythm of the tha-thump, tha-thump bringing you back into yourself.

🏃🏼‍♀️🏃🏼‍♀️🏃🏼‍♀️

I’ve found the same synchronicity—the endorphin rush with running from my daily cold water ocean dips in the mornings. I started cold water swimming when we first moved to our new home. We downsized to 1,000 square feet on a city sized lot from over 2,500 square feet on five acres. But, my back yard is the Pacific Ocean. It has been my lifeline, therapy and healing balm.

Daily dipping in the morning is now my go-to routine. Rain, shine, wind, snow—I dip. Like my life depends on it. It’s the natural remedy to what’s ailing me. No matter what or how I’m feeling. I dip. I reach for it like it’s my daily medication. The natural benefits acting like an anti-depressant, minus the pill.

I didn’t understand this scientifically, but I knew intuitively these cold waters of the Pacific were healing my body, mind and soul. Being in nature. Floating and immersing simultaneously. The cold acting as a semi-conductor reconnecting my body and mind.

In Dr. Susanna Søberg’s book Winter Swimming; The Nordic Way to a Healthier and Happier Life, she describes the science behind what many people feel. The rush of endorphins as your body hits the cold-water. The million tiny sharp needle pinpricks over every inch of your skin and extremities. Something is happening. And it can be explained.

“Studies in rodents exposed to cold showed increased noradrenalin of up to four times normal levels. Repeated exposure to cold (as with winter swimmers) also provides greater release of noradrenalin to communicate between the nerves in the locus coeruleus—the nucleus in the brain stem—which controls our reactions to stress and panic. This same significant release of noradrenalin is also found in the hippocampus…which is responsible for human orientation and memory.

The locus coeruleus and hippocampus are both very important areas of the brain for mental health. Noradrenalin functions here alongside serotonin, and both are key signal substances…that help regulate our mood. It is these exact areas of the brain and these transmitters that are targeted by many of the drugs used in the treatment of depression….”

Most of the research in Dr. Søberg’s book is anecdotal and based on the tens of thousands of participants from around the world who partake in cold water swimming precisely because of the benefits they derive from it, science or no. Participants in Soberg’s studies who have experienced depression and addiction talk about the benefits they’ve experienced from regular cold water swimming. Many coming off various medications they’d taken for years like myself, It’s remarkable.

Me in my backyard. Deep Cove, BC

Of course, if you don’t have the Pacific Ocean at your doorstep—any cold lake, river, stream (or shower) will do. The act of getting outside in nature and then immersing yourself in the cold water will feel foreign at first, but bring a friend and give it a try. You don’t have to swim, just wade in up to your shoulders. No need to get your head wet. Although you can if you are hard core. According to the research in the book, there’s no additional benefits and having tried it myself, it can provoke an uncomfortable feeling of brain freeze.

Cold Water Swimming Tips and Tricks I wish I knew when I started:

• Bring a friend. Don’t dip alone if you can help it. (Although I do, mostly because I’m a strong swimmer and I use the time as a meditation, but most people like the camaraderie. Plus, it’s safer.)

• Wear a good warm hat. Booties and gloves for your hands and feet are helpful and a must if you love it and want to continue. Those items will help you stay in for longer, as it's your fingers and toes that will be the first to force you out of the water.

• Whoop and holler when you first get in. It’s natural, don’t fight it. This response will eventually go away as you get used to it.

• I find walking slowly (or stepping down the ladder into the water) one step at a time and not stopping is the best way to go. If I stop and think too much, it’s not helpful. But for your first time, do what works best for you to get you in and out.

• Breathe. If you’ve ever done yoga, try yoga breathing. It really is mind over matter. Your mind is screaming at you, but the reality is, your body is fine. Slow your breath and your mind will follow.

• Build up your time in the cold water slowly. You may only last 30 seconds your first dip. That’s a lot! Work your way up. Eventually you’ll be at 3 minutes, then ten. You’ll be surprised what your body gets used to.¹

• Your mind will become like a jedi ninja master—lit up in every way and yet calm and collected as you take your time absorbing all the healing benefits the cold water is offering.

There is a sense of wonder and excitement as I slowly come out of my hibernation. The cold-water swims have woken up my brain, the running is shaking out the cobwebs of my body, the creativity of the mandala painting is stirring my heart.

All these are like way finding stones on a pathway I’m curious to follow. To see where it all leads. The glimmer of what’s next is emerging from a tiny seed deep inside. Could my wintering be coming to an end?

Keep (un)Learning. KVB. Xo

What about you…

1. Are you emerging into something or someone new?

2. Have you experienced a wintering? How long did yours last?

3. Any thoughts on cold water swimming? Have you tried it?

1. Avoid hypothermia by not staying in any longer than 20 minutes and only after you’ve worked up to it. You’ll know if you’ve stayed in too long, if you start shivering while in the water, get confused, start slurring your speech. It’s time to get out.