What I Learned From Wild Swimming

By Megan Dooley (Trainer)

Growing up on the North Wales coast, I was lucky to spend my childhood surrounded by the natural beauty of the seaside. Crabbing, splashing in the waves, and spending summer weekends at the lake—jumping into the freezing waters and trying not to slice my feet on the slate lakebed—were some of my happiest moments. These blue landscapes became my safe spaces, and even now, I find myself longing for natural water when I’m in urban areas for too long. When I can’t make it back, I often visualise those places during guided meditation. I can almost feel the pebbles under my feet and the salty sea air on my skin.

This deep connection to water was why, when I was asked to design a study for my Psychology degree around a wellbeing topic, my choice felt obvious. At the time, I was back in Wales, temporarily living at my parents’ house while finishing my course. I walked along the coastline daily, and during those walks, I’d often see groups of wild swimmers heading out into the waves or returning to the beach, wrapped in towels and rosy-cheeked. Many of these swimmers were women, including my aunt, who had become a passionate wild swimmer since moving to Wales. She spoke often about how it had transformed her mental wellbeing and quickly became the highlight of her week.

Inspired by her experience, I decided to explore this further. My study focused on the mental health benefits of wild swimming through interviews with three women who swam regularly. By taking a phenomenological approach—a method that focuses on understanding people’s lived experiences—I aimed to capture what wild swimming truly meant to them. Instead of focusing on facts or theories, I wanted to hear their personal stories: how it felt to be in the water, why they kept coming back, and how it shaped their lives.

The interviews were a joy. These women spoke with such passion about how wild swimming had become an integral part of their individual and social identities. Listening to their stories, I found myself swept up in the romance and drama of their experiences – the cold water jolting their senses awake, the calm that followed and the deep connections they formed with nature and their fellow wild swimmers.

Though the three women were from different parts of the country there were some clear themes that ran through their individual narratives, allowing me to weave together a larger story of the wild swimming experience. I learned that this simple yet powerful activity is about so much more than getting into cold water. It’s about finding connection—connection with yourself, with others, and with nature.

These women shared how wild swimming helped them build meaningful friendships, find mental clarity, and feel more alive. They described the cold water as a ‘reset button’, stripping away stress and grounding them in the present moment. The rituals they developed—like meeting at sunrise or ducking fully underwater—became as much about bonding as they were about bravery.

What struck me most was their deep respect for the natural world. From misty mornings on a loch, to surprise encounters with seals, their swims were filled with moments of wonder. Wild swimming had become a way for them to connect with the elements and rediscover a sense of awe.

The biggest takeaway for me? Courage grows when we push our limits, especially when supported by others. Wild swimming isn’t just a physical challenge—it’s a reminder to embrace discomfort, live fully, and find joy in the wild.

And here’s the thing: you don’t have to wild swim to experience these benefits. The way we connect with nature can vary depending on where we live and how much time we have. Whether it’s a local lake, a coastal walk, or a park near your home, you can find connection in many forms. You might discover it by walking through a forest, hiking a mountain, or simply sitting by a canal. It’s not about the specific activity—it’s about immersing yourself in nature, stepping out of your comfort zone, and allowing yourself to connect with something bigger.