fear of open water
When I moved in the UK I cam across this odd concept: there were people that were actually swimming in... lakes. Dark green, almost black, unable-to-see-the-bottom lakes. I thought this was such a crazy concept. Why would anyone do that? And yet I realised this was quite normal for people that had grown up here. Which made me realise that, being Greek, I was quite ‘spoiled’. I grew up by the sea. Every summer we would count how many times we would go to the sea during the summer break (quite long in Greece, as we don’t get half-term breaks), trying to reach 100 every year. That’s a lot of open water swimming. But, there were often those days when, there was a bit of wind, and the sea would be silty because of the sand being all stirred up when... it wasn’t really worth going in. Maybe to play with the waves... which was ok because you knew every corner of that beach so there was really nothing ‘unknown’ about the sea bottom despite not being able to see it.
But also, there were limits as to how far out you would go... definitely not as far out as the ‘black waters’, there were horror stories about crossing that line beyond which the lovely acquamarine, transparent water turned dark blue. Clearly due to the presence of seaweed at the bottom combined with increased depth, but that was all in all a very, very unsafe place. And why bother anyway, there was so much paradise to play around all day!
It was later on in my life, when I found myself exploring new places, still within Greece, and would always judge a beach my the amount of black patches it may have (where I had to go out of my way to avoid), the less the better, or ideally, none at all. And thankfully there were plenty of places where this was not a problem. Spoiled!
I also remember a day when I went swimming with my mom at around sunset time, at a beach we were going for the first time. It all looked sandy and therefore was ok, but there was this moment when all of a sudden the sun went down behind a hill nearby and the whole water turned black! I had panic attack and almost drowned my mom who had to carry me out.
You also take the ferry pretty much every year. That’s how you go on holidays in the islands, something every Greek family does - a lot more than boarding planes and going abroad. And you would look at the dark blue water and wonder what would happen if you were ever to fall in. You know how to swim but most likely you would die of a heart attack for fear of the water. LET ALONE during the night should the ferry was to sink! This has happened you know? A frequent childhood nightmare...
And there they were, these people, VOLUNTARILY submersing themselves in this dark abyss.
I didn’t think much of it for years, as I suppose, people that would get up and run early in the morning would seem equally insane to me. Same as people that ran marathons which were EVERYWHERE!
The problem became apparent firstly when my husband and I started holidaying together, obviously in places with loads of dark water ‘challenges’ and he was fast to point out that my behaviour was odd. More so after we started sailing and we would anchor the boat far from the beach, often in the dark water so... the only way to get to the beach was to go through it! Let alsone if there was an anchor problem and I had to, believe it or not, dive in to check the anchor!
So there was some progress over the years when he would encourage me and take me swimming with him so I could overcome my fear. The situation was always better if I wore a mask and could examine the bottom, but the steps were small, and I can’t exactly say I was enjoying myself, I was simply tolerating it without having a panic attack. And of course that was still in the Mediterranean sea, this wad nothing to do with the lakes in the UK! That was still insane.
Well... unless you want to do a triathlon! What if you fall in love with a sport a third of which most likely will involve a swim in a lake or in an unknown body of water?
Well if you’re brave enough to venture into triathlon you’re in the business of process anyway. Everything takes courage and everything takes time, this one no less so. So seeing this as part of the challenge puts a positive tone to it, something to conquer; something that will help you reach the other goals you may have.
I had my first swimming lessons with a view of attempting to train for triathlon in October 2019. So I didn’t have to really worry about open water until the summer. (Why I needed swimming lessons and why I couldn’t swim front crawl (at all) is a story for another time.)
The very first opportunity actually presented itself as early as February, when at training Camp in Aguillas in Spain. I had brought my wetsuit and I was excited. Being sea, it was a good stepping stone. And yet it was at sunset time and at a beach I had never swam in, with the water being rather muddy. But I was with another three girls from the team and I just... swam it through! It was a shock, together with the cold water, and it was the first time I’d swam in a wetsuit, so there was a lot going on. But the wetsuit was definitely key - it provided a sense of protection, even from something as benign as seaweed touching your skin. It’s all psychological anyway! So this was a first attempt but it was very brief and I didn’t think much of it afterwards; nor did it provide any valuable experience that would alleviate the fear of the first dip in the lake that would come later, in May.
May 2020 that is. When lakes opened before pools did. And it stayed like this for a long time. And it was all socially distant. Which only meant one thing - what I had envisaged as a first attempt with the group I train with, now had to be done alone. Like, not even my husband was allowed in the facility to be watching from nearby, he actually had to stay at the car park.
I don’t remember much of the time leading to it, just the fact that I was determined to do this with a smile. I sheepishly asked the lady at the entrance what was at the bottom of the lake and she said it was all sandy. Great!
I put on my wetsuit and in I went, gave myself some time to get used to the water initially, then head down and started swimming. It was odd, the fact that I couldn’t see anything and it was all black/brown. I could barely see the reflective part of my wetsuit on my forearm as it was passing under me on each stroke. Every few strokes I would stop and lift my head up, take on some courage and carry on. it was a sunny day and the place was beautiful. There were a few people around so I kept telling myself I had company. I would make sure I stay at the surface as I was dreading the possibility of touching the bottom or feeling any weedy thing coming up and touching my feet. I think I instinctively still do that.
I managed around 30’ of swimming and came out, victorious! I could not believe I had done it and I was oh so proud.
The summer went on and as the pools were closed I spent it swimming in the lake 3 days a week. I loved it so much that I couldn’t wait. Not straight away, at the beginning there was always an element of forcing myself, for sure. There were also bit of the lake that were ‘weedy’ and the first few times I would get a bit of extra ‘breathlessness’ around that area but I kept telling myself that ‘I’m just stupid’, ‘this is just grass’ and ‘it can’t possibly hurt me’. Until I didn’t really have to anymore. Of course there was the ‘safety’ of swimming around the same lake every time, the familiarity helped.
But I don’t think I would have got so well accustomed to open water swimming in a lake had it not been for being forced to do so much of it that summer. I could never have become so comfortable at this rate.
In September, a few friends of mine and I decided to take on the Swimathon challenge in the open water and swim 5km in the lake while raising money for charity. It was one of my most mindful swims ever, lasting a bit over 1,5 hour and I will never forget it. To be able to do that and enjoy it, within a year of having started swimming was mind-blowing. It was a wonderful day and it felt as if we were swimming in a painting by Monet!
When I did my first triathlon race in Dorney lake that September, I was nervous about dipping in an unknown lake for the first time straight at the start of the race. Thanks to COVID as well, there were no mass starts at the time and we were going in one by one which made it a bit easier for us beginners. I was met with the pleasant surprise of crystal-clear water and just loved it. And as it turned out, swimming is becoming one of my strengths in the sport, who would have ever imagined!
A huge success story, built layer by layer. A fear conquered. My Greek friends still cannot get their head around how I do it and I am desperately trying to encourage everyone to give this a try. It’s freedom. And it requires zero special ability, just the stupidity to try enough to see it through. Onwards!
