On Perranporth beach in Cornwall, UK, a local outdoor swimming group called the Perranporth Bluetits is out in force. This group are determined to make the most of another chilly day as they plunge into the Atlantic for a dip. They emerge smiling. Their camaraderie and collective sense of achievement is clear to see.
Invigorating experiences like these have motivated community groups and the voluntary sector to begin to design “blue care” programmes connecting people with the water, and sometimes even more formalised prescriptions of “bluespace” activities from doctors or health professionals.
I, admittedly, stay drier than the Perranporth Bluetits. But my interest in open water swimming and its health benefits has motivated me and a team of researchers to look into these experiences. Previous research shows that open-water swimming and similar activities can be therapeutic.
But might certain swimming activities be particularly beneficial for mental wellbeing? With an international team of environmental psychologists, I have carried out the biggest survey of open-water swimmers to date, looking at data from across the globe.
Our recent study, published in the Journal of Environmental Psychology, outlines the mental wellbeing benefits of wild swimming, and suggests that satisfying psychological needs might underlie this.
As part of the EU-funded BlueHealth project, we surveyed around 20,000 adults in 19 countries across Europe, the US, Hong Kong, Australia and Canada about their interactions with blue spaces (outdoor aquatic environments) and their health and wellbeing.
One thousand two hundred of these people reported swimming on their most recent visit to a blue space – some in open-air pools, others in more natural bodies of water such as lakes, rivers, and the sea.
Any kind of outdoor swimming was associated with a wellbeing boost. However, wild swimming seemed to deliver significant benefits. Our study suggests that the key to this effect lies in experiencing feelings of autonomy and competence – freedom and mastery over the swimmer’s environment – two factors that are strongly linked to wellbeing.
Surprisingly though, social connection did not play as big a role in these mental wellbeing effects as we had expected, despite the proliferation of community swimming groups like the Perranporth Bluetits. At least in this international sample, personal achievement seemed to be more influential than community bonding.
There was another surprising nuance too. More skilled swimmers, drawn to adventurous and riskier locations, sometimes reported higher anxiety levels. This suggests that while wild swimming can be deeply rewarding, it may also push people into situations that challenge their comfort zones. As other research has noted, such challenging situations can be part of the appeal.
The findings extend previous research on open-water swimming by showing wellbeing benefits across an international sample of adults, the mechanisms by which these benefits come about and the magnitude of difference between natural waters and man-made outdoor pools.
So, should we all be jumping in and prescribing such experiences for a mental health lift?
The research does not quite support that yet. We need to be realistic about some of the other challenges our oceans face in providing such experiences. Alongside ever-present risks such as drowning, polluted waters pose infection risks, something that any swimmer has to carefully negotiate to embrace their hobby.
Nonetheless, our results support investigations into prescribing nature to improve certain health conditions. This is something that the UK government is prepared to spend millions on. Osteoarthritis, muscle pain, inflammation, stress, immune function and sleep quality are just some of the other touted benefits of cold-water immersion.
Perhaps the main takeaway though is in how wild swimming delivers its mental wellbeing benefits – essentially through enhanced feelings of freedom. Perhaps, in a world of growing external pressures, this is the reason wild swimming is becoming so popular.
Lewis Elliott, Senior Lecturer in Environment and Human Health, University of Exeter
This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
