4. Braving the open water

Water is symbolic of emotion and of the unconscious mind. What of deep, dark, green and murky water? I hear you say. Well, you do the math. I am brave enough to admit that in my life I have been terrified of deep emotion, of being out of my depth and the loss of control that that entails. And I have been lucky enough to learn that if I want to transcend something then I have to move towards it and to understand it.

In Vedic tradition the swan is a symbol of the Atman or individual soul- try telling that to someone who is being chased around a lake by one or more

So when Andy invited me to do that first swim I knew it was really my demons that were confronting me. I knew that it was time either to make my move or to hang up my trunks.

And swimming in open water is worthy of all of the rich symbolism attached to it and more. Open water has always fired imaginations, a thing of mystery, where monsters and even more scary things dwell.

Swimming for reasonably prolonged periods puts the brain into Alpha activity, a relaxed but alert state essential for good mental and physical health.

Wading through sea weed bare foot, frankly, gave me class A Heebie Jeebies

No better place than The Highlands to cut your teeth on solo OW swimming

Alpha waves encourage the things that lie below the surface of the mind to float up into conscious awareness. It activates creativity (big spikes of Alpha activity are always present when creative thinking occurs) in a way which is rare in 'normal' life.

Beta is the 'more productive' stressed out, uptight, time constrained, right hemisphere brain activity beloved of employers and of private doctors.

I would argue, with no scientific basis whatsoever at this point, that Outdoor swimming is more conducive to Alpha brain activity than being cooped up in a disease ridden, overheated aquatic version of a chicken run.

Brimful of noxious chemicals and oftentimes obnoxious and overly competitive swimmers vying for limited space. Call it a hunch.

But I digress. Which is not like me at all.

If there is a monster in here there's no way you would see it coming

Having said all of that stuff about the irrational fear of open water swimming, there are plenty of very rational fears too. Which is worse? To have no idea what's below you or to be fully aware and also to know that in open water you are a fish out of water? A sitting duck to marine predators. Or likely to just bump into great big things which are, although benign, still really scary?

There is clawing weed that grips you like a dead man's hand from out of nowhere, vicious territorial waterfowl, motor boats, currents, tides, wind, swell and chop. Did I mention drowning? Attack by sea gulls, ospreys, Russian spies with harpoon guns? Heat seeking jellyfish. Other swimmers?

You can see crabs walking across the sand 5m below you and think you can reach out and pick one up

A week after the Thames swim I spent a week's holiday in Ullapool. I walked through the weeds to swim alone 1/2 a mile across a bay each morning to a little beach and back. I dispensed with my wetsuit and swam across a loch, the water drinkably clean and sweet, but so black that the sunlight wouldn't penetrate more than a few feet.

And cold!

Where it was overcast and 15 degrees that day in the Thames, it was sunny and 8 degrees here. In July! In the Thames, green and cloudy, here crystal clear azure with golden or white sand.

Water with sharp teeth.

For the first time I swam without a wetsuit for 20 minutes or more in the sea. Until my skin stopped burning and my breathing returned to normal. I lay on the beach tremulous, my body pulsed and the endorphins coursed around my brain. I felt totally exhilarated and began vaguely to suspect that I might be alive.