Notes on swimming, sweating, and a sense of community.
My swim/sauna reset routine.
I swim 1.5 to 2km, four to five times a week. Usually early, around 7am. It's become a routine I rely on. Honestly, I started because my knees couldn't take running everyday anymore (LOL). I'm a top-heavy guy and swimming doesn't punish my body the same way, and somehow it's still a combination of intense effort and yet calm at the same time.
Also, can we just take a second to appreciate the efficiency here. 1. There's no gym kit to wash, 2. no waiting for machines or equipment, and 3. there's a shower built-in at the end. It's got everything: Quiet. Clean. And deeply meditative.
So, the pool has become my pseudo meeting room with self. I feel like it's where my best ideas happen. Once I've found my flow, my brain unlocks. Thoughts arrive. Problems unravel. Solutions float in. It's almost cliché and annoying how effective it is, like a 'shower thought'. And then the next 20 or 30 laps fly by and I've usually gone well over my target lengths lost to the rhythm.
It's something about that rhythm, the breathing, the stroke, the push and glide, that I find all-consuming in the best way. No distractions, no screen, and no sound except water. That focus gives my mind space to roam, the repetition becomes meditative and I feel connected to something.
I've contemplated bringing a pencil and paper to the side of the pool so I don't forget some of my ideas, but the image of me scribbling away like a madman at the end of a lane puts me a bit too far into the eccentric category than I'm comfortable with, at least right now anyway.
And then, there's sauna.
The pool in my town doesn't have a sauna (a whole other issue I'll come to in a minute), but a couple of times a week I drive twenty minutes to my nearest. Because honestly, I love it. The way your whole system resets - wow!
It was actually my brother who first got me into sauna in a serious way. After a 20/25 minute cook, my heart rate climbs high. You can feel it, that moment where all you want to do is get out—that's where you've got to stay put. Endure it a few minutes longer. Everything's working harder and the relief and recovery is incredible.
And then, the cold. You hit the cold plunge, and within three minutes, my heart rate drops by nearly 100 BPM. It's a full-body reset. That routine of extreme hot and cold does something incredible for your nervous system, your recovery, and more noticeably for me, mental clarity. It's not just theory; there's so many people and articles that talk about this stuff. If you've not tried it together, I really encourage you to.
But what surprised me most, though, wasn't just how good I feel after 2 or 3 rounds, but it's the sense of community. This particular sauna I go to, for whatever reason, has cultivated something really warm (no pun intended). People chat. People check in. Strangers talk about their lives, their work, the weather, their families. It's unforced and unpolished. People from different walks of life, different ages, different backgrounds, all just sitting there, connected by this simple ritual.
It reminded me how that kind of communal space is rare and valuable, and how I think many of us miss that kind of space to connect with people. And I can see why, beyond getting away from the cold, Scandinavian countries have saunas in almost every work and residential building. Sauna time is something people arrange with their friends, they'll bring beers along even, to hang out and catch up.
Community saunas are popping up everywhere. And now I'm on a bit of a mission: if you look at my Pinterest I've got whole board dedicated to saunas. I'm watching 'how-to' videos on Youtube. There's this one guy who is building what he calls a 'dirtbag sauna' made entirely from recycled pallets.
It's becoming an obsession, mainly because I want that closer to home. Not just for convenience (although, yes please), but because I believe spaces like this, where we leave our layers at the door, literally and metaphorically, where there’s no need to perform or posture, makes everything better. For our health. For our wellbeing. For our creativity and community.
My swim-sauna routine has become something I really look forward to. And maybe that’s the real takeaway: find the thing that grounds you, that pulls you out of the noise and into self. Whether it’s laps, heat, or simply showing up somewhere that lets you breathe.
If this resonates with you, let me know—I’d love to hear from you.
Writing about creativity, culture, and the quiet parts of ambition—the patience, the process, and the moments that shape us. For those building something worth waiting for. Josh Aarons is a multi-disciplinary Creative Director.
This reminds me of daily Japanese bathing (not to be confused with Onsen). Showers are seldom taken in the morning, instead in the evening, just before bedtime, a hot bath (40-42°C) is drawn. All the family go in, one by one. First, you wash yourself outside the bath - Japanese bath rooms are geared up for this with a wet floor. Then you get in the bath and relax.
It’s an end of day ritual that gives a chance to unwind. Staring into space. Joints unbind. Then, lobster red, you egress and go to bed. Sleep follows swiftly.
Nothing is wasted, not only is the bath water shared by the family, but also the next day, the bath water is reused by the washing machine. There are even special bath salts “safe” for this dual use.
There is a lot to be said for ritual, however small.
I’ve been going to a sauna near and the community feels so connected despite everyone’s differences. I think regular sauna frequenters must be a different type of person and on a similar wave length. I hope everyone gets more into sauna.