The closure of gyms and swimming pools during lockdown proved difficult for a number of us. The gym bodies who live for exercise and are constantly on the move found themselves in lockdown doing high reps using their pets, 15-gallon water bottles, or children as free weights; they were okay. But others who find it mentally exhausting trying to find the motivation to exercise tough at the best of times slid back into a more sedentary Netflix and – for us singletons – no chill lifestyle.
Looking out to sea from my balcony overlooking the Salmiya seaside during lockdown was frustrating. My building had swiftly stopped access to the rooftop pool in early March, and I was jealously Insta Story-ing suntanned men flouting the rules, enjoying the beach, not socially distancing and in some cases carousing outside of curfew. When all other exercise motivation fails the one thing I can do is get in the water, so when the curfew opened up this was my chance to get into the sea. The trick would be in the timing.
Jet skis often come into shore to buzz swimmers in the shallow waters, so you need to make certain to not swim so late that they can’t be avoided. The rocky outcrop that sits behind the burger restaurant that I swim out from needs to be covered by the water level so I can swim from one outcrop to the other like an elongated pool length. By the second high tide of the day (there are 4), the sun is way too hot so closer to the first high tide is better. Before 5am it’s still a bit dark [at time of writing], but there are families that are also ready to enjoy the beach as soon as they wake up, so it’s becoming a race to have the beach to myself these days. Large crowds start gathering before 6am!
Avoiding people is a skill on the beach, so clambering across the rocks and out from there as a jumping-off point would be my tip. Use slip-on water shoes so you can walk straight to the water’s edge and just jump in. The rocks are a hive of activity at this time. Kittens catching critters, their mothers watching me suspiciously from underneath cooling rocks, and crabs and something else unidentifiable and creepy-crawly, scatter with each step that I take. As the tide goes out, slippery rocks pose a danger so keep your center of gravity low, as these rocks will grate you like a carrot if you go down. You don’t want to get any scrapes before you swim as the sea’s salt levels are so high. Anyone who shaves, don’t do that the day of or day before you swim, you won’t be able to stand the salt burn.
The first length has me heading north. I breathe to the right so only the eastern horizon greets my gaze. This means no landmarks to measure how far I’ve swum but I use the time to judge whoever it was that left their water bottle with cigarette butts in it on the beach because I’m swimming through this debris now. I spy something floating under the water to my left as I’m swimming. Is it a jellyfish? I keep seeing these trails to the left, am I swimming through a smack of jellyfish? This is why I swim in thick leggings, to avoid stings, bites and brushes against various creatures I can’t see. Pro-tip, use clear goggles, mine are tinted allowing my imagination to run wild at what could be hidden from me in the depths. I’m not feeling any stings so gather my bravery to glance to my left on the next stroke. The “jellyfish” turn out to be air bubbles that my curved left hand is trapping when going through the water. Adjusting my technique so as to not frighten myself unnecessarily once more, I continue. I’ve only screamed out loud once and whimpered twice while swimming in open water. And that scream was when I stroked the back of something very long and very slimy that took its own sweet time to swim by me. So, the drama was justified I feel.
This morning the sunrise luckily happens just as I’m wondering how far I’ve got left to go to reach the other side. I stroke towards the incredibly beautiful almost 1990’s fluorescent orange and perfectly round sun, watching it get higher as I swim. Approaching the rocks where I’ve to turn back, I see a shape silhouetted against the sky. In full abaya, and face covered completely, I watch a woman sitting beside her fishing pole, line cast into the sea. I hope she doesn’t think I’m scaring her fish away, hopefully they’re being shooed towards her hook.
The way back is so much easier. I can measure how far I’ve gone by swimming past the buildings. First is the curved covered glass wall of the nautilus shaped judges’ club, then the high-rise set further back with features painted in blocks of navy and red, the chunky horizontal residential building which is nine floors high and nine units across; each structure tells me where I am on the return length. The waves gently push me toward my goal as I approach in my eye-line a little blue property with antennae on the roof nearly as tall as the building itself. This is the one that gets me every time. This devil signals the end of the second length. But this is where there is always a current, dragging me away from the rocky outcrop from where I started. Here it feels like I can swim forever and not move. And when I look down, if I really want to, I can probably place my feet on the sand and walk out of the water, but giving up isn’t the point. As the tide is going out at this time of the morning, if you get into trouble or tired, remember the shallow is always just right there. No need to panic.
I scramble out over the rocks, exhilarated to be finished. I’ve worn a thick sports bra under my swimsuit to preserve the dignity of any easily offended onlookers as the temperature difference hits me; it’s cold as you exit the sea no matter if the air temperature is 44 degrees. The taste of salt in my mouth is almost unbearable, and I gulp down the liter bottle of water I’ve left in the rocks. You may want to also pour the clean water over your body to remove any excess salt and pollution which can make your skin react angrily.
My Fitbit tells me I’ve swum 500m and burned only 77 calories, but the satellite map tells me one length is 400m and I’m incredibly hungry so I don’t believe the low calorie count. Either way, I’ve been swimming non-stop for nineteen minutes. It’s a nice swim. Four lengths is my maximum so far but physically further is doable, and no curfew this month means the required earlier start is now possible! Next, if I can learn how to ride a racing bike, maybe bazaar tries a triathlon is in order!
Tides can be checked on tideschart.com, the sunrise on timeanddate.com, and the sea temperature on seatemperature.info.
