How learning to swim aged 30 helped me defeat the chronic pain I’ve suffered for 14 years 

There was a man in front of me in the pool, clinging on to a foam float for life. He frantically kicked his feet, splashing water in my face in the process.

I tried to step back and sideways, but suddenly I found myself in the part where it’s too deep to get up. I panicked and reached out to grab my instructor’s shoulder.

All the while, in the lane next to me, toddlers were sticking their heads under water and bobbing merrily on their backs. If only I were so brave.

At the age of 30 I had finally decided to learn how to swim – and that was my first lesson.

Like a third of British adults, I never got around to it as a child. I was more interested in gymnastics. But I had little choice. It was my last ditch effort to find an exercise that didn’t make me double in pain and reach for the painkillers I’ve relied on for over a decade.

18-year-old Lucia Osborne Crowley, pictured, was diagnosed with endometriosis and later Crohn’s disease — both of which left her with crippling pain

I am one of 28 million Britons who suffer from chronic pain caused by a long-term health problem. In my case there are two problems.

In 2010, when I was 18, I was diagnosed with endometriosis, in which the lining of the uterus, or endometrium, grows into other pelvic tissue. It causes excruciating pain and sometimes infertility.

And five years later, after six months of erratic bowel problems and weight loss, doctors also diagnosed me with Crohn’s disease—an inflammatory condition that damages the gut.

My entire adult life has been marked by pain, getting sick from work, and being hospitalized dozens of times—most recently in the fall.

My Crohn’s disease is relatively manageable with on-and-off steroid treatment, but if I get pain during a flare-up, I have to take strong opiates like codeine and tramadol to get by.

I have long been aware of scientific evidence demonstrating the pain relieving effect of exercise.

Last year, researchers in the US found that endometriosis patients who exercised at least three times a week reported less discomfort than less physically active patients.

The NHS recommends several exercise classes for people with chronic pain. It’s called social prescribing – a relatively new arrangement that connects patients to local activities, groups and services that may have health benefits.

I have to admit, when my doctor first suggested that a gym class would help, I laughed at him. How on earth was it necessary to cycle an hour a week to deal with two debilitating, chronic conditions? However, I tried. And over the years, I’ve also tried speed walking, dancing, Pilates, and even lifting weights—all things that exacerbated my crippling pain.

Swimming was actually the only activity left on the table.

A third of British adults did not learn to swim as a child (photo taken by model)

I did some research and quickly came across studies involving patients with a range of conditions—from arthritis to spinal problems and nerve pain—that suggested that swimming offers unique benefits.

Water supports the body, which relieves pressure on ligaments and joints and helps muscles relax, according to Professor Sam Ahmedzai, an expert in palliative care at the University of Sheffield and spokesperson for the British Pain Society. He adds, “Plus, you get all the benefits of the natural high that exercise brings, leaving you feeling happier and more energized overall.”

Recent research suggests that the natural high of exercise isn’t just about endorphins — the “feel-good” hormones the brain releases during times of physical stress and pleasure. In 2021, neuroscientists at Wayne State University in the US discovered that exercise also releases another molecule in the brain that has dramatic pain-relieving effects and reduces inflammation.

These molecules are the brain’s own version of cannabinoids – the psychoactive compound found in cannabis. Cycling, jogging and swimming all caused this effect.

It’s been ten months since that first swimming lesson. During the second, I managed to submerge my head under the water (while my instructor, aptly named Joy, kept an eye on me) and realized it wasn’t that scary as long as I remembered to blow bubbles out of my nose.

Then came the real swimming: the first breaststroke. It took a while for my arms and legs to work together, but eventually I got there.

By the third class, I was on a front crawl, which at first felt like I was drowning, before Joy taught me not to panic and refocus on my breathing.

Around that time I noticed a difference in my body. My pain always disappeared when I was in the water, but this time the relief lasted for the next two days.

After the next lesson, it took another day, and so on.

These days, I swim a few times a week, which has reduced my painkiller intake to about two acetaminophen every two weeks, and I rarely touch codeine.

I usually get about 60 lengths without stopping, or 40 if I’m tired. Last week, on a particularly calm dive, I was startled when the lifeguard blew his whistle and yelled, “Get out of the slow lane, you’re too fast!”

I had never been so proud.