No Small Wander

My local community centre in London has just undergone a major renovation, and today I visited their brand-new pool.

I used to swim like a fish—many summers as a kid were spent in my local pool. My siblings and I played games, did headstands, and generally splashed about. It was fun—and lately, I’ve been craving ways to have fun while exercising. The gym is great, but after a while the treadmill and stairmaster can get repetitive. I needed to shake things up, try something new.

In the pool, floating ropes divide the “lanes”. You have to book your spot based on speed (fast, medium, slow). I hadn’t been swimming in over a year, but I’m a fairly strong swimmer, so I picked medium.

This was the most crowded lane—full of swimmers in flashy goggles and swim caps, timing their laps and not stopping. It was a lot to take in; I felt pushed to keep going, even when I was tired. I spent a lot of time feeling like I couldn’t stop; like I was slowing down others if I did. Soon I got irritated at slow and fast swimmers. After 15 laps (30 pool lengths), I hopped out of the pool to catch my breath.

Now the real question­—how does this relate to slow travel?

When I was outside the pool, I could see how the swimmers weren’t going as fast as I’d assumed. I noticed how some would wait a few moments on the end of the pool before kicking off again. Some people would even chat with each other at the end of the lane.

I realised the pressure I felt to perform was completely self-inflicted. No one cared if I was a bit slower than the others. We were all here to move, not judge each other.

It kind of made me kick myself, to be honest. I try so hard to slow down and not get swept up in speed! Yet when I perceived the environment I was in as high-strung and fast-paced, my only thought was keeping up­, not calming down.

So I got back in the pool, and I tried to be okay with not pushing myself to my limits. Like swimming on my back, which was easier for deep breaths without the stress of water up my nose. Or noticing how nice the cool water was on my skin. I watched slow movers in the next lane, and wondered if I’ll still be swimming when I’m grey-haired. Would I still be making fitness a priority? I exercise partly because I want to stay mobile; if I want to travel well into my 80s, I need to make sure I can still deal with stairs, planes, trains, luggage, and other ambulatory issues.

Still, I wasn’t expecting for my anxiety to flare up so much when I was doing something I’d been doing since I was a kid. The next time this happens, whether it’s in a pool, or a crowded market, or at an airport, I’m going to try the following:

Remember that everyone starts somewhere.

There’s no shame in being a beginner—whether you’re getting back into practice, or starting some new endeavour, no one starts as an expert.

Ask, Is this really what I want to be doing?

There was part of the swim I didn’t do, and in a way, I’m glad, because I never really want to ex4ercise. This is why I’m trying new things; I’m trying to find a form of exercise that’s actually fun, not just a chore. I’m always glad to have done a workout, but I’ve yet to find a workout I look forward to.

But looking back—going to the pool was a choice, as was getting into a lane that challenged me. And I’m glad I was challenged! But when my partner texted me later, Did you have a good time? I texted back, Ask me in an hour. I wish it was easier for me to decide whether something is enjoyable to me or not. And to remember that if I hate something, I can always leave!

Breathe deeply.

The best thing I did after 15 laps was to hop out of the pool and breathe deeply. I took a moment to myself to calm my nervous system, and take stock of what I really wanted. It was because of that, I was able to complete another five laps before my session was over. I’ve got my favourite exercises about body checkins here.

Stop the comparison and run my own race.

They say comparison in the thief of joy, and I believe that’s true. Because all focusing on others’ speed did for me is give me anxiety. If I went back, I’d just focus on my own goals; the amount of time it took to swim a lap, or how many laps I could get into the allotted time.

Find one nice thing to focus on.

For me, this was how nice it felt to be in the water. It could have also been gratitude that I’d gotten the swim session for free, or how nice it was to be in a pool for the first time in several years. But finding something enjoyable and focussing on it really magnifies life’s small pleasures for me.

Whether it’s in a closed environment like a public pool, or an open one like moving through a new city—the anxiety to “keep up” or to not want to be the slowest in the crowd is something I’m still living with. But I’m noticing more when it happens—and hopefully, I’m getting better at handling it when it pops up.