Aquatic antiques: Swimming off this mortal coil?

An ocean of elders

In recent years it has become widely accepted that one of the greatest demographic challenges facing most developed societies is the shift to an ageing population as a result of greater longevity combined with decreased birth rates. News of this ‘age of aging’ (Magnus, 2009: xxiv) has had a mixed reception, with celebrations of the expectation of a longer life tinged with concerns of the impact of an ageing population on the economy and increased demands on social services (Bytheway, 1995; Vincent, 2003). The problematization of ageing in turn creates a need for a ‘solution’, and this is presented through the ‘active ageing agenda’, encouraging active citizenship and having at its core assumptions of the need for people to engage in exercise into later life. This presents an interesting contrast to traditional perceptions of ageing as a period of frailty and decline, through the development of a counter-discourse encouraging physical activity in later life (Dionigi, 2006; Dionigi and O’Flynn, 2007). Exercise is perceived to have numerous physical (Health Education Authority, 2000; World Health Organization, 2005), psychological (Cattan, 2001; Department of Health, 2004; Litt et al., 2002; Stathi et al., 2002), and social benefits (Featherstone and Hepworth, 1991), and is promoted in campaigns by governments and other policy-makers, in an attempt to keep older people healthy and independent for longer, so reducing the burden on the state. For the purpose of this article, there are two significant features of the strategies to increase levels of physical activity in later life: first, that encouragement to engage in exercise is framed by an anti-ageing agenda, that ageing is something to be delayed and/or avoided rather than celebrated (Pike, 2011; Tulle, 2008a); and second, that it remains the case that we still know very little of the meaning and significance of involvement in exercise in later life (Allen Collinson and Hockey, 2007; Grant and Kluge, 2007; Roper et al., 2003; Tulle, 2003). This article aims to illuminate both of these general points drawing on a specific case study of Masters swimmers. Such research is important if we are to grasp what it means to ‘be old’, to better understand older athletes and what the stories of these swimmers might tell us is possible for older people in general (see Roper et al., 2003), and to make appropriate policy recommendations for physical activity in later life for ageing populations (see Nilsson et al., 2000). This is a timely study since in 2008 the British government introduced a scheme to offer free swimming to people aged over 60 as part of the Olympic legacy promise that this would be extended to the whole population by the time of the Olympic and Paralympic Games in London 2012. The Department of Work and Pensions estimated that there were 1.6 million visits in the first three months of the scheme, at a cost of approximately £22 million.

This article follows two previous publications on Masters swimmers in the International Review for the Sociology of Sport. In 1995, Hastings et al. developed Stebbins’s (1992) concept of ‘serious leisure’ identifying that the main reasons for engagement in Masters swimming were related to sociability, achievement, fitness, skill development, enjoyment and tension release. This publication was followed by Chris Stevenson’s (2002) article investigating the careers of Masters swimmers. Stevenson’s (2002) work explored the phases from recruitment into swimming by others, through conversion to regular participation and subsequent entanglement in to the swimming network and identification as a swimmer. In both of these articles, the swimmers were relatively young, with the average age of those in Hastings et al.’s (1995) study being 41.7, while the eldest participant in Stevenson’s (2002) research was aged 57. However, Masters swimming offers competitions between participants categorized in age brackets of five years, with the youngest category for those aged 25–29 years old and, while there is no upper age limit, the oldest category currently offered at the world championships is for those aged 90 years old and over. Archival records of performances at the Olympic Games suggest that female swimmers tend to peak at age 17, while males peak at age 19 (Schulz and Curnow, 1988; Stones, 2010). Of course, there are notable exceptions, most recently that of Dara Torres who won three silver medals in the 2008 Olympics at the age of 41, which demonstrates the complexities of the relationship between age and sporting performance (Weir et al., 2010). Swimming, along with track and field athletics, has the longest history of sporting competition at the Masters level, and has expanded rapidly since the first World Masters Swimming Championships were held in Tokyo in 1986 (Weir et al., 2010). For example, there were approximately 6700 competitors in the World Masters Swimming Championships in Sweden 2010. The stories told in this article are of swimmers who participate from the recreational to the international competitive level, but all of them are aged over 60 to be consistent with a concern to understand the experiences of exercise in later life.

In developing this discussion, the article argues a case for the relevance of the work of Erving Goffman, a social theorist who has much to offer the sociology of sport but whose work has been relatively underused in recent studies (see Birrell and Donnelly, 2004; Pike and Beames, 2007). A central tenet of Goffman’s work is that identities are constructed through interactions between social actors and others in a dynamic social process (Goffman, 1969). This process is ongoing, and identities develop and will need to be (re)negotiated, for example, at various stages of the life cycle. This article will give particular consideration to whether experiences of the ageing sporting body and identity may be understood through Goffman’s (1963) concept of stigma. Stigma is the term used to explain when social interactions fail because people do not give due deference to each other, in some cases because they look or act in a way that deviates from social norms. Stigma is, therefore, understood as a discrepancy of the virtual idealized self and the actual self-identity. In societies where youth is the ideal and young bodies are privileged, it is possible that the ageing process, where the skin becomes wrinkled or the person experiences difficulty moving, is inconsistent with this idealized self. In turn, this may challenge feelings of self-worth and identity, and older persons may experience marginalization and discrimination (Blaikie, 1999; Featherstone and Hepworth, 1991). Following Gilleard and Higgs (2002: 370): ‘The older person fades as a social actor, leaving individual idiosyncracy and domestic circumstance to define a residual personal identity.’ Goffman’s work is, therefore, considered to be informative on key aspects of the ageing experience, and this is elaborated in what follows.

The pool of participants

A multi-method approach was used, drawing on a combination of participant observation, semi-structured interviews, and written stories, consistent with Goffman’s belief that sociology is something that should be ‘done’ by interacting with people’s lives (see Birrell and Donnelly, 2004). The choice of methods of data collection was informed by a critique of social gerontology that research has tended to be dominated by survey-style approaches which attempts to systematically place older people in distinctive categories according to, for example, age and lifestyle. Following Nimrod (2007), while the concept of ‘successful ageing’ has received considerable attention in recent years, there is no agreed interpretation of what this means, and the diverse experiences of the ageing process mean that it is probably impossible to have a ‘one size fits all’ explanation (Nilsson et al., 2000; Thompson, 1992). As a result, rather than attempting to simply ‘measure’ aspects of the ageing experience, I was keen to give a voice to the study participants in order to understand their interpretation of what to them constitutes ‘successful ageing’, not least because these are people who are ‘atypical’ in challenging traditional age-appropriate expectations of behaviour and bodily usage (see Tulle, 2008a, 2008b, 2008c).

The selection of participants in the study also recognized the varied experiences of the chronological ageing process. As Nilsson et al. (2000) explain, chronological age tells us very little about a person’s experience of being or feeling ‘old’ and, while some older people report feeling old, many claim that they do not. It is possible, of course, that those in the latter category may be claiming a sense of youth in order to oppose negative stereotypes of later life and so preserve their dignity. As a result, rather than defining people as ‘old’ once they reach a particular age, I used a particular life event, that of retirement, as a marker of a definitive stage in the life course. Retirement represents a transition from middle to old age (Nimrod, 2007) and is an invention of modern societies. While the legislation regarding retirement differs across nations, and has recently been amended in the UK where this study was based, the participants in this study had all experienced the requirement to retire from paid employment at the age of 60 for women, and 65 for men, and so all of the study participants were at least 60 years of age. For many, retirement is experienced as a defining point in life with respect to lack of regular physical activity, psychological stimulation, and social contact (Berger et al., 2005).

Field notes were collected over a period of one year of participant observation with members of a Masters swimming club in the south of England, in order to provide a context for the research, personally experience the sport and social relations in the clubs (Tulle, 2008b), and develop contacts for the interviews. The interviews and written stories took a similar format where, after gaining some biographical data, the swimmers were encouraged to talk or write about their participation in swimming. The methods chosen were in an attempt to uncover the swimmers’ lived experiences of their sport, their relations with others, and their sporting bodies. This is consistent with a Goffmanesque interactionist belief that age has to be understood as something that is performed and made meaningful via interactions which are framed by social situations and interconnected with corporeality (see Laz, 2003; Phoenix and Sparkes, 2009). This also enables the researcher to ‘give back’ to the researched, by not only listening and reassuring those who are socially marginalized (in this case by age) that they are worthy of attention, but also giving visibility to them, making the private public, and offering the potential for socio-political change (Denzin, 1989; Elbaz, 1990; Gitlin, 1990; Plummer, 1983). Systematic thematic analysis was used in order to build a comparative picture across the swimmers’ stories (Plummer, 1983). In an effort to verify the credibility of the interpretation of data, member checks were employed (Merriam, 1988; Stake, 1995). This involved cross-checking the themes identified with some of the study participants, offering them the opportunity to comment on the interpretation of data. Such checks recognize that there are many possible readings of such vignettes and so help to authenticate the interpretations.

This article draws on the stories of 31 swimmers: 18 male and 13 female, with a mean age of 65. The average age at which they had started swimming was eight. Eighteen of them identified as competitive swimmers (six at international level), 13 as fitness swimmers, and most trained between two and five times a week. The majority had experienced some form of further or higher education. Consistent with the findings of Stevenson’s (2002) work with younger Masters swimmers, it was found that most were initially ‘recruited’ into swimming by schools or family members at a young age, but later ‘sought’ a swimming club for exercise or because their own children swam. Each of the participants in this study had then gone through a process that Stevenson calls ‘conversion’ where they became ‘insiders’ to the swimming club, and regularly participated in training sessions. Many subsequently became ‘entangled’ with the club, forming meaningful friendship networks, and some were involved in administration and committee roles, such that swimming became a significant aspect of their personal identity. These processes will be discussed in more detail within a framework of three main themes identified from the information provided.

First, swimming formed part of the construction of a regular pattern of living in retirement, thus replacing the structure of their working lives in their post-work lifestyles. Second, access to economic capital enabled consumption of social and corporeal capital through swimming, which in turn challenges the perception of the burden and dependency of older people. Finally, engagement in swimming was largely a form of resistance to the ageing body, but this in many ways reproduced the privilege of youth. Each of these issues is discussed in more detail in what follows.

The serious swimming schedule

Goffman (1961) identifies the challenge presented to individuals’ sense of self when there is a change to a person’s way of life. Retirement from formal employment is a key moment in many people’s lives, during which they may lose the ‘presenting culture’ or way of life previously taken for granted. This may be the case even for those who have not been in paid employment (in the case of the participants in this study, these were all women), since the retirement of a partner or other changes to domestic responsibilities may have a similar impact. Ultimately, the role dispossession from retirement may strip a person of the support which had previously confirmed their self-identity and even lead to a mortification, or sense of total loss, of the self (see Fennell et al., 1988). Many of the study participants indicated the importance of swimming as a new ‘way of life’ (female, age 71, national competitor) in their post-retirement years and identities.

For many, swimming training was adopted as part of the construction of a regular pattern to life which otherwise ceased in the years after paid employment: ‘I like the fact that there is a routine’ (male, age 62, fitness swimmer). Involvement in swimming may therefore form a display of a productive lifestyle in the years following the termination of formal employment: as one swimmer stated ‘you’ve got that feel-good factor when you go home, that I’ve done something today’ (female, age 70, national competitor). This serves to legitimate swimming as a retirement leisure activity, enabling what Ekerdt (1986: 239) referred to as the ‘busy ethic’, providing a ‘moral continuity between work and retirement’ by bringing retirement into line with mainstream social values in capitalism. This is consistent with the earlier research into Masters swimming by Hastings et al. (1995) which describes participation as a form of ‘serious leisure’ and the work of Grant (2001) defining ‘serious play’, whereby participation is systematic, substantial, contains elements of a career in the acquisition of skills and knowledge, and where there is a level of competition and achievement without necessarily a need to win races. Several participants in this study provided details of their training schedules which involved a substantial time commitment. For example, one elite interviewee described his weekly routine, and others who were not necessarily involved in competition had similar patterns: ‘I train every week and probably do 10–12,000 metres per week … I go to a local gym three times per week and also one session of yoga’ (male, age 70, international competitor).

Many of the male swimmers identified how it had become much easier since retiring to arrange their lives around their swimming training, as illustrated in the following comment: ‘I have much more time for training now that I am retired and I do try to arrange some social events around my training and competitions’ (male, age 61, international competitor). Here it is seen that the ‘busy ethic’ differs slightly from the ‘work ethic’, in terms of how activities are undertaken in later life: at a more leisurely and flexible pace than during working life; controlling, rather than controlled by, time (see Freedman, 1999; Phoenix and Sparkes, 2009).

However, there were clear gender differences in the experiences of later life (see Pike, 2010, for a more detailed discussion of gender and ageing). Several female participants spoke of the conflict between the expectation to continue with domestic responsibilities in retirement and their desire to swim more regularly. As one international competitor explained: ‘Family all supportive and proud of achievements unless babysitting clashes with aspirations’ (female, age 69, international competitor), while another explained with frustration that her swimming training was curtailed by ‘looking after garden, granddaughter, mother, husband et al.’ (female, age 60, fitness swimmer). The experiences of these women problematize the popular idea that old age is the ‘age of leisure’ and demonstrate how gender continues to be an organizing, and potentially limiting, element in the experience of ageing (World Health Organization, 2002). While leisure may offer some women freedom from dominant ideas of age and gender, following Wimbush and Talbot (1988), it is also the case that many leisure activities in later life are carried out under constraints which men do not necessarily experience (Pike, 2010; Wearing, 1995, 1996). This is supported by activity statistics which indicate that women are less active than men throughout the life course, and that there is a significant reduction in female activity levels in later life (Sport England, 2006). These findings illustrate the ways in which old age can exacerbate other pre-existing inequalities, and it is commonly accepted that there is a ‘double jeopardy’ of ageism combined with sexism (de Beauvoir, 1972), and ‘multiple jeopardy’ when ageing interplays with other social variables such as social class, ethnicity and disability, as indicated in the following section.

Social status in speedos

With the appearance of the older age group as a significant sector of the population, so a number of acronyms have come into popular vernacular to refer to the retired classes, including the WOOPIES: Well Off Older Persons; and the GLAMS: the Grey, Leisured And Moneyed. Each of these indicates the relevance of economic capital in the opportunity to experience positive ageing. British national surveys have demonstrated that older people are often disadvantaged and prone to social exclusion, and reference is commonly made to ‘pensioner poverty’ (see Social Exclusion Unit, 2006). Studies of older people clearly indicate that social exclusion in later life is related to constraints on the ability to engage in material consumption combined with the loss of relationships with partners, family, friends and colleagues through bereavement and/or retirement. Those from lower social classes are less able to facilitate the choice of positive ageing, which can cause inactivity, and subsequent physical and psychological decline (Featherstone and Hepworth, 1991; House of Lords, 2005; Social Exclusion Unit, 2006). It is clear from these studies that social isolation is simultaneously cause and effect, in that social capital is needed to gain social benefit (Long, 2004).

Some of the participants in this study described the benefit of the swimming club in countering such isolation, comparing their relative wellbeing with others who do not have this advantage: ‘People who don’t have swimming clubs, it’s rotten for them. Most people I know of my age stay home at night and watch telly and that’s it’ (male, age 63, fitness swimmer). Human and social geographers suggest that ageing bodies are often associated with particular spaces (generally, being home-based), and so the ability to get out of the home may enable a resistance to a sense of ageing (see Bhatti, 2006). In Goffman’s (1959) terms, these spaces are understood as regions for performing different aspects of the self – and so, the swimming pool becomes a stage upon which participants might display and positively experience a self that feels more youthful than their actual chronological age. However, for some being older meant that swimming clubs did not provide for them, so contributing to their isolation, as illustrated in the story of one male swimmer:

I don’t belong to a club at the moment as we were not being catered for in my age group (75–80) however I find that I do miss the friendship and badinage of the club. (Male, age 78, club level competitor)

In addition, there were practical factors such as lack of suitable transport and loss of independence in later life, which reinforces the relevance of economic and cultural capital in the ageing experience. Take, for example, the experience of one national competitor who currently had both the ability and opportunity to drive to swimming, but was aware that this may not always be the case:

There comes a point, you see I’m 71, there comes a point when I’m thinking I’m not going to be able to drive … All the while I can drive I shall still be here. (Female, age 71, national competitor)

In contrast to the issues identified above, others believed that getting older was in many ways a liberating experience, indicating the heterogeneous nature of an ageing population largely determined by access to economic and cultural capital (see Guillemard, 1972). For those who benefit from the relative affluence of Western societies, their social identities are increasingly related to consumption (including of leisure activities) as indicated in several stories which described lifestyles of international travel and competitions: ‘I have swum all over the world … I swim every year in Guernsey in an international meet’ (male, age 70, international competitor).

The lifestyles described by some of these swimmers supports the argument that, for many, the ‘Third Age’ is increasingly resembling adolescence, with groups of older people creating a new identity via interactions with likeminded others (Blaikie, 1999). Certainly the lifestyles of many of the swimmers cited here contrast with the perceived burden of dependency and social isolation of the ageing population, in turn eliciting bemused responses from their significant others. One female believed that ‘my non-swimming friends think I am utterly mad doing all this exercising’ (age 60, national competitor), while another explained:

My friends and family take it for granted that I go swimming and know it is a significant part of my life. They are interested and amused at the odd places I have found to swim in when on holiday (e.g. every ocean I’ve visited from the tropics to the Arctic, remote rivers and lakes, etc.). (Male, age 64, national competitor)

This swimmer, and others like him, also demonstrate Goffman’s (1967) elements of character: those of courage and gameness. Goffman (1967) argued that the development of character is predicated upon degrees of sacrifice and risk. When a person perceives danger in a situation, but proceeds regardless of the risk or setbacks, this enables an indication that they are of a certain character. In this case, unlike other sporting activities that may take place in the safer spaces that might normally be associated with ageing bodies (Bhatti, 2006), swimming in arctic and open water may be a display of a youthful risk-taking persona in the face of any limitations presented by an ageing corporeality. This is illustrative of the progress that has been made in promoting alternative, positive, ideas and images of ageing to move away from a ‘deficit model’ (that healthy ageing is simply the absence of disease) toward a ‘heroic model’ (that older people can, if they wish, engage in a whole range of activities into later life) (Reed et al., 2003).

For many of the participants in this study, swimming enabled a display of social distinction (Bourdieu, 1986), in part through their regular leisure activities and opportunities for international travel, and also through their enthusiastic explanation of their involvement in the administration and organization of the club:

I started exercise later in life as my work really took precedence. It is now an important part of my life and I cannot really envisage giving it up. I am now involved in running the club as well so I am enjoying that and the social side of things as well as the chance to get some exercise. (Male, age 62, fitness swimmer)

These stories demonstrate what Stevenson (2002) described as an ‘entanglement’ in the swimming network, whereby swimming comes to form a significant dimension of the lives of those who are able to commit to regular participation. Such entanglement creates commitments and obligations to the social group, which in turn provides the basis of an enhanced reputation and social identity. One respondent did, however, indicate her frustration that the administration was negatively impacting on her swimming, stating that ‘Retirement has brought less time to swim and more commitment to swimming administration. How did that happen?’ (female, age 69, international competitor). This is a common feature of the lives of many people who are defined as ‘older’ and shift their lifestyles to sedentary roles involving less physical exertion (see O’Donnell, 1985). However, for the majority of those interviewed, it was the ability to combine social interaction with physical activity which was key to their commitment to their sport. In the following section, the role of swimming as a form of body maintenance will be discussed, including how this may also dictate a trend toward age denial.

Ageing ‘naturally’, stroke by stroke

It is clear that ageing is an inevitable biological process and that the body irreversibly declines after maturity but, for the purpose of this article, it is the social significance of this corporeal process which is important (Coakley and Pike, 2009). In Western societies where people are living longer, being ‘old’ has changed and, as I identified in the previous section, many older people are now deconstructing the life cycle. However, it also remains the case that, for many, the ageing process was experienced as a betrayal of, and by, the body. This may be understood through Goffman’s (1963) notion of the stigma of actual and perceived frailty and dependency. Stigma is Goffman’s conceptualization of the way that social interactions can fail when individuals look or act in a way that deviates from social ideals. Corporeal ageing is akin to what Goffman (1963) terms the discredited stigma. This is where some aspect of a person’s identity (in this case, an ageing body) is inconsistent with the norms and values of society (understood here as the value placed on youthful appearance), creating a sense of an inept social identity and serving as a source of anxiety. One swimmer described how his perceived physical decline in turn undermined his self-confidence, explaining: ‘You lose confidence in yourself and you start to lose confidence in your body’ (male, age 60, fitness swimmer). A more detailed explanation of these changes was provided by a female swimmer:

I notice it when I’m not doing it [swimming training], especially now, because it takes a long time to get back to it. I’m quite old now you know … I can’t do ‘fly, not now … I was second in the [national event] 50 metres when I was about 60 or 65 … and after that it all went miserably downhill … I had this problem in my hip, so I couldn’t do it for a couple of years properly, and I’ve now got problems in my knee with the same thing. I’ve got arthritis in my knee now. And they tell me I need a new hip and a new knee again … And, of course, you get a bit heavier as well, I was quite slim … when you’re younger, you are slimmer aren’t you … Everyone at my age has osteopenia because it’s a degeneration of the bones. (Female, age 70, national competitor)

In addition to the declining performance of the ageing body, there were aesthetic concerns with the changes in physical appearance, which in some cases impacted on the lifestyles of some of the swimmers. This was illustrated by one female who considered giving up the sport because of her appearance:

I am embarrassed about the veins in my legs … I feel ashamed of showing bare feet, as I now have bunions, and try to hide them!!!! This manifests itself in swimming pools, showers, and walking bare foot when other people are around. (Female, age 65, fitness swimmer)

Masters swimming offers an environment in which swimmers of various ages train in close quarters, wearing little clothing and swimming a very small distance apart within a narrow lane. This environment facilitates easy comparison between the ability and bodies of the participants. Sessions are determined by the time that it takes swimmers to complete a set distance and the rest that is needed before they can commence the next swimming set. If some swimmers are considerably slower than others and take longer to complete a distance, this leaves the other swimmers in the lane waiting for them before the group can start the next part of the training session. In a conversation overheard during a training session, some of the older swimmers were resting and discussing the younger swimmers who were continuing to train. They compared their own bodies to steam trains, effective in their day but now exposed for their inefficiency by the new faster express trains to which they compared the bodies and fitness of the younger swimmers. Others made similar comparisons to their younger selves: having been actively involved in competitive swimming in their younger years, they were becoming aware that they were unable to train and compete at the same level as they had in the past. For them, the ageing process was experienced as a loss of the former gloried athletic self (Adler and Adler, 1989):

If I stop for too long now it’s a slippery slope, you go down but you don’t come back up to the level you were before, it’s a slow decline. (Male, age 60, fitness swimmer)

Following Dionigi and O’Flynn (2007), older athletes often adopt different performance measures to those who are younger, focusing mostly on the avoidance or delay of decline, rather than aiming for improvement.

In each of the above cases, whether the body performs less well or is viewed as unattractive, the ageing body is always experienced as ‘other’ than the idealized youthful body which is privileged in Western societies (O’Brien Cousins and Vertinsky, 2007). This may be understood as a ‘border crossing’, when a person crosses a boundary which, in this case, would be the corporeal line from celebration to denigration of the body as it ages (see Tulloch and Lupton, 2003). In Eliasian terms, civilizing processes mean that people are less exposed, and therefore more sensitive, to bodily decay. As a result, ageing becomes repugnant (Elias, 1985). The decay of the body, as indicative of impending death, often poses specific existential problems. This is encapsulated in the title of Elias’s (1985) book The Loneliness of the Dying. In particular, fear of death appears to have increased as societies’ interest in religion has decreased. In the absence of available answers about death and the after-life provided by religious beliefs, so ageing and dying (and corporeal displays of these processes) become increasingly fearful and stigmatized. Older people may be seen as less than fully human and morally lax, marginalized as outsiders from the established youthful privilege (Elias and Scotson, 1965). This then presents the older person with the dilemma of how to negotiate their ageing body: accept it as their fate or as their fault. In turn, this creates a decision whether to age naturally, or to attempt to disguise ageing through strategies of masquerade (Biggs, 1993). In the case of the swimmers who were not attempting to disguise their age, this was less about an acceptance or even celebration of their older body, than it was a sense of not being able to control the ageing process, which in itself was a cause of further anxiety as illustrated in the words of the following competitor:

If you let your muscles degenerate you never get them back when you’re older because they don’t regenerate … So you’ve got to keep doing it, even if it’s a bit painful, you’ve got to keep exercising and keep walking and keep doing as much as you can. (Female, age 70, national competitor)

The ‘use it or lose it’ motto is a common theme among Masters athletes, often driven by fear of the alternatives – to keep exercising is to avoid loss of health, independence, sense of self, even life (Dionigi, 2010).

Many used swimming as a means of impression management, to fend off the outer display, or ‘mask of ageing’ (Dionigi, 2002; Featherstone and Hepworth, 1991), so defying an identity which was ‘spoiled’ by the ageing process and explore the ‘true’ youthful self beneath the ageing exterior (Goffman, 1963, 1969). Engagement in ‘cultures of fitness’ is a way of resisting dominant ideologies and disassociating from the dependency and decline associated with ageing (see Paulson, 2005). As Goffman (1959: 33) argued ‘people are obliged not only to carry out their tasks and routines, but also express their competence in doing so’ (emphasis in original). For one participant, swimming, in contrast to other forms of activity, had particular significance in negotiating the ‘double jeopardy’ of age and being disabled as a leg amputee:

I swim at my local pool and in the summer months with a friend in the sea, it is an activity where my disability is not a disadvantage, and it is always good to keep fit. In the pool I tend to train with slightly younger able bodied people who I can compete with and sometimes beat. While exercising I enjoy the challenge and feel good working hard, I like to keep fit and trim (harder with the years) in my circumstances I cannot afford to put too much weight on. I really enjoy swimming, it is the freedom of not having to wear an uncomfortable restrictive false leg and not being at a disadvantage. (Male, age 60, recreational swimmer)

For the few swimmers who indicated satisfaction with their ageing body, it was notable that this was only ever grounded in an experience of their body as youthful, and none indicated any pleasure in the ageing process itself. For example, one 70-year-old male proudly claimed to ‘only feel about 45!’ (international competitor), while a female explained: ‘My body, appearance plays an important part in my life. Confidence in looking good, younger than 61, compliments from work colleagues’ (age 61, national competitor). It was evident from the swimmers’ stories that ageing was regarded as a negative experience for which they adopted compensatory actions, and that a significant attraction of swimming was that it enabled the display of an apparently more youthful self. Arguably, this is indicative of a more subtle form of ageism: the trend toward ‘agelessness’ and only being as old as one feels (rather than as old as you actually are) which contributes to the ‘disappearance’ of old age (Andrews, 1999). This is also an illustration of the anti-ageing agenda outlined at the beginning of this article, that physical activity appears to be promoted for older people largely as a way of addressing the perceived burden and dependency of the increasing ageing population (Bytheway, 1995; Pike, 2011; Tulle, 2008a; Vincent, 2003). Specifically, resisting the appearance of ageing becomes more ‘normal’ than ageing naturally, which in turn reproduces the privilege of youth (see Higgs et al., 2009).

A common concern of many of the swimmers was the avoidance of weight gain, reflecting broader social trends in Western societies where claims of an ‘obesity epidemic’ mean that slenderness is perceived as ‘good’ (Garrett, 2004; Sparkes, 1997), while fat takes the form of a visible stigma and threatens the youthful sense of self (Bell and Valentine, 1997; Gard, 2004; Gard and Wright, 2005). Engaging in swimming and other fitness activities presents participants with an opportunity to find their ‘true’ selves beneath the layers of ageing flesh (see Lupton, 1997). Interestingly, although evidence suggests that it is women who are most concerned with slenderness while men can age without such a social penalty (Arber and Ginn, 1991), both male and female respondents in this study were concerned with fat. Several women explained this in the following ways: ‘I would dearly like to lose 1 to 2 stone’ (female, age 66, international competitor); ‘Enjoyment of … keeping slim and “defying” old age’ (female, age 63, fitness swimmer). However, male swimmers expressed similar concerns, explaining ‘I exercise because I feel better for doing it, to keep my weight down’ (male, age 61, international competitor).

For some of the women in this study, there were concerns with specific age-related illnesses which they discussed via an uncritical acceptance of the discourse that exercise can prevent and/or cure such health problems (World Health Organization, 2005). One woman explained her desire to ‘keep active as long as I can because I know my mother had osteoporosis and I don’t want to end up like that’ (female, age 60, fitness swimmer). In addition, an epiphany in the lives of many women is the onset of the menopause. At this moment, women are considered ‘old’, unattractive in their decrepitude, and of no use to society once they can no longer bear children (O’Brien Cousins and Vertinsky, 2007). Some of the women spoke quite specifically of the role of swimming in coping with the menopause, as illustrated in the following: ‘I’m retired now, and hope to increase my exercising, as this really helps the side effects of the menopause and keeps my muscles flexible’ (female, 60, club level competitor). Certainly it appears that exercise has the capacity to exorcise the negative experiences of ageing. But this is not a unidimensional process as we will see in the next section.

The ‘very intense’ versus the ‘old biddies’

The stories told by these swimmers indicate that while all of them were actively resisting the stereotype of older people, many continue to feel restrained by their ageing body. In addition, there were varied responses regarding what constitutes ‘age-appropriate behaviour’, in particular regarding the choice of competitive or recreational activity. For some, swimming took a central role in forming a socially desirable identity. It was noticeable, for example, that more older swimmers than their younger counterparts were likely to wear clothing displaying the name of their swimming club, and many used the swimming club or a swimming ‘nickname’ as their email address. Goffman (1969) explains the use of such ‘props’ as central to the construction of a social identity, the self that is presented to others. Elsewhere, Goffman (1963) also described the felt identity, grounded in feelings about one’s self. One particularly successful swimmer explained the significance of swimming in his life, which he experienced through a social identity drawing on a display of ‘props’ (including his medals and newspaper clippings which he was very keen to photocopy for me), and also a felt identity which he was concerned to maintain:

I think that I would be like a dog with three legs without swimming … My family and grandchildren call me ‘Super Grandad’ … I have upwards of 700 medals now all hanging up on boards on the staircase … I do most of my swimming training in public sessions. The regular swimmers are very supportive and keep strangers away from my lane. I feel very complimented by their actions and they always want to see my medals when I have competed. The local press give me support also, which is good. (Male, age 70, international competitor)

The use of such props enables the participant to symbolically enhance credibility in the role being played by creating an appropriate image for the athlete in question (Casselman-Dickson and Damhorst, 1993). The desire to be acclaimed and have successes noted may be particularly significant in later life to counter the dominant negative views of older persons in society, but there remains limited research investigating the significance of intense competition and athletic success among older competitors (Dionigi, 2006; Tulle, 2008a, 2008b, 2008c).

However, for others such commitment was seen as excessive for an older athlete. For example, while one swimmer spoke in a fairly derogatory way of those who swim recreationally as ‘old dears, the blue rinse brigade’, she was then critical of older people who take their swimming and competing too seriously:

Some of them are very intense swimmers, they’re too serious … they’re looking at their watches … if there’s a false call and false starts it can be terrible … They won’t socialize with anyone, it’s all swimming. (Female, age 70, national competitor)

The reference to the ‘old dears’ represents an attempt to ‘other’ the ageing process, as a way of distancing one’s self from ageist stereotypes. As Andrews (1999) argues, we should not be surprised that older people are often ageist, given that they are themselves products of an ageist society and will wish to exempt themselves from such branding. In contrast, when defining some swimmers as being ‘too serious’, it is hard to imagine a similar criticism being aimed at younger athletes. Older people find themselves having to negotiate ‘age-coding’ of which behaviours are deemed appropriate (Krekula, 2007): in this case, the conflicting discourses of sport, which are primarily focused on competition, with discourse which often presents competitiveness as age-inappropriate (Dionigi and O’Flynn, 2007). Despite evidence that, for some, serious competitive sport may be very meaningful in later life, more general trends suggest that retirement leisure patterns tend to involve a decrease in strenuous and competitive activities, and an increase in ‘lifestyle’ activities (Bhatti, 2006; Coakley and Pike, 2009). The majority of swimmers in this study gave primacy to participation and social interaction over performance: ‘I find it’s a social event as well, that’s important especially when you get a bit older’ (male, age 63, fitness swimmer). The need to exercise for health and social benefits, is a common priority of older people choosing an active lifestyle (Dionigi and O’Flynn, 2007; Gilleard and Higgs, 2000).

One woman spoke particularly poignantly of the way that swimming had helped her cope with the social isolation that many face in later life:

I was diagnosed with breast cancer, same time and day of my operation my beloved husband … had a heart attack (he was never ill) and died. Obviously I was devastated. All my friends and [swimming club] helped me through the terrible period of my life. I could not go back to swimming until after radiotherapy but once I was allowed the swimming was my life saver. I got faster, my confidence (which had gone once on my own) gradually got better. (Female, age 61, national competitor)

In this story, we also see an illustration of another of Goffman’s (1967) elements of character, that of composure. For this woman, swimming enabled a display of poise and confidence at a time when her identity was threatened by epiphanous moments in her life.

In either case, as recreational or competitive, all of the participants in the study indicated that, for them, giving up swimming was not an option that they would willingly choose. In the case of a competitive swimmer, there was always the increased chance of success when they ‘aged up’ and entered the next age category and were the youngest in their competitive group, reinforcing the importance of ongoing opportunities for success and recognition as a motivational factor for continued involvement in competitive swimming (Dionigi, 2006; Medic, 2010):

There’s two ex-Olympic swimmers and once they move up to my age group then I don’t get a look in … I hold the county record for the 100 but it only needs someone to come up. I would like the 70s national record. (Female, age 71, national competitor)

For others, giving up swimming would be determined by either a medical condition or loss of the social network, as demonstrated in the following comment: ‘I would only give it up if (1) I became physically unable to do it or (2) If all my many friends left’ (female, age 60, fitness swimmer). The centrality of swimming in the lives of these people may be connected to what O’Donnell (1985: 135) refers to as ‘anticipatory widowhood’: where those in later life anticipate the loss of partners and coping with a subsequent life on their own. In this case the loss of the swimming club, and its related activities and identity, might be experienced as akin to a form of bereavement.

The final length

This article opened by indicating the perceived benefits of physical activity in later life. For many of the participants in this study, the swimming environment appears to serve as a leisure space which enables a challenge of, and to, embodied ageing identities (see Bell and Valentine, 1995; Tulle, 2008b). However, it is clear that the experience of longevity and choices about exercise in later life, are eclectic and multi-dimensional. The varied experiences of ageing by the swimmers in this study raise a question regarding the very terminology of ‘age’ and being ‘old’. For many, there is a stark contrast between a period of relative health and activity in the ‘third age’ during which they can ‘roll back the years’, and the subsequent desire to be active during what may be a long period of dependency and declining physicality in the ‘fourth age’ (see Bhatti, 2006; Gilleard and Higgs, 1998; Nilsson et al., 2000). In addition, gender contributes to what has been proposed as a ‘multiple jeopardy’ of age and other social factors, with ongoing domestic responsibilities and health issues compounding gender differentials in the ageing process (Pike, 2010). This presents the Masters swimmer with particularly difficult challenges to their social and felt identities as these are continually disrupted by the various stages of the ageing process and defined by other social categories.

The widely accepted view that older people are in a spiral of age-related decline, contributes to a debate that they are ‘at risk’ and in need of protection and care. Arguably, the decision whether or not to engage in exercise defines a person’s worth and contributes to surveillance, monitoring, and even control, of an alienated older population (Blaikie, 1999; Estes, 2001; Lupton, 1997; Pike, 2011). Certainly, the findings of this study suggest that much of the swimming training was carried out in a productive fashion, such that any gains in life expectancy may be off-set by losses in an era of ‘accelerated living’ (Northgate, 2006). In many ways, old age is medicalized and then commodified, a heroic model of ageing is sold, including paying for swimming training sessions, holidays and equipment, providing a profitable market in modern capitalism (Reed et al., 2003). While may of the participants in this study appeared to have internalized the anti-ageing agenda, it also became clear that participation in sports such as Masters swimming offers the opportunity to challenge dominant ageist discourses, claiming the benefits of feeling younger than their chronological age while simultaneously contributing to the stigmatization of their peers who ‘acted their age’. Following Dionigi (2006: 375):

The actions of older athletes have the potential to perpetuate the value of youthfulness and the repression of deep old age at both the social and individual levels. Furthermore, their behavior can simultaneously reinforce age-appropriate discourses and establish new sets of orthodoxies that legitimize older adults as competitive.

Certainly, the stories told in this article demonstrated how many of these people were embracing a counter-discourse that they could attempt to swim their way into an active and pleasurable last length of life, rather than simply shuffling off this mortal coil (see Blaikie, 1999). Masters swimmers, therefore, present an interesting illustration of the multi-dimensional experiences of ageing: they provide an inspirational case study of ‘successful’ ageing, in part by resisting dominant constructions of the ageing process, and from whom we can learn much about the limits of human potential. And yet their experiences remain framed within limiting and marginalizing stereotypes, and negative labelling of those who are unable or unwilling to meet exercise expectations. These complexities surrounding engagement in swimming in later life raise serious questions about how policy-makers and practitioners might best support, empower, and make appropriate sport and exercise provision for older people to enable alternative and empowering ways of growing old. As one swimmer argued: ‘I still regard exercise as A Good Thing … I hope it will help me stay vertical and above ground’ (male, age 62, fitness swimmer).