It's no secret that swimming in the summer is my very favourite thing to do (followed closely by picnicking, then a tie between eating ice cream and eating BLTs...), so when Metro Morning called and asked if I'd be the first guest in their Enthusiast series, I jumped at the chance.

The outdoor pools in Toronto are free (FREE!!!!), and they are the most incredible public spaces. Of course I think the best pool in the city is probably the one closest to you, but I will admit I am partial to this one...

You can listen to be wax poetic with Matt Galloway about why I love swimming here!

Summer swimming in Toronto pools is...well, the greatest. They're free (FREE! How lucky are we?!) and there is really nothing better than floating in the middle of the deep end on one of Toronto's scorchers. BUT, each pool has its quirks—at some, you need a quarter for the lockers, at others, a lock. At some, you can bring bags out on the deck, at others, it's a no-go... (The only constant? Always bring flip-flops...!)

The City site has all the hours/different kinds of swims available, but not the small details that make trying out a new pool easy. And so, let's make a list together! Send me your pool insider notes over Twitter: @lindsayzv or at our fancy new IG: @swimmingholeswehaveknown_

If you head to a Toronto pool this summer, let us all know:
- are there universal change rooms? Family change rooms?
- are bags allowed on deck?
- is it accessible?
- what's the locker situation like? Locks? Quarters?
- nearest transit stop? Is there parking?
- is there an area for strollers?
- anything else? Diving boards? A permanent-length lane? Lane ropes during length swim? A good view from the deep end? Sloped entry in the shallow end?

A list of all of Toronto's outdoor pools (addresses and hours): HERE!

Alex Duff Pool (at Christie Pits):
- universal change room
- bring a quarter for the lockers
- stroller parking on deck
- permanent lane for length swim (though it's narrow)
- multiple pools: splash pad pool for kiddos (not always open), shallow pool, regular pool with gradual entry, diving board, water slide!

Alexandra Park Pool
NOTE: under repair for the summer of 2019

Blantyre Pool
- no lockers
- no family washrooms
- very dirty bathrooms
- bags allowed on deck
- strollers allowed on deck
- lots of street parking
- on the #12 TTC bus line
- next to a park

Donald D. Summerville Olympic Pool
- gendered change rooms
- quarters for lockers
- open and curtained showers and changing area
- can take bags on deck
- stairs or elevator from change rooms to pool
- roped off lanes in 50m lane pool
- 25m leisure pool

Giovanni Caboto:
- universal change rooms
- small lockers that require bring-your-own locks
- stroller parking in hallway near entrance
- lane ropes during length swim (usually)
- bags allowed on decks
- ample deck space
- 50m!
- water slide

Greenwood Park Pool:
- lockers (need quarters!)
- can bring bags on deck
- accessible, gendered change rooms
- lane ropes during length swim
- gets pretty full of debris by evening

High Park Pool:
- no universal change room
- quarter for the lockers
- no bags on deck (though this isn't really enforced)
- separate kids' area with a splash pad
- close-ish from High Park subway Station. Parking in High Park (though it's usually full on the weekends)
- water slide!
- sloped entry in the shallow end
- distinct shallow end and deep end
- lane ropes during length swim
- nearby wading pool and splash pad
- note: the water is often *very* cold as the pool's not heated!

Lambton Kingsway Park Pool:
- gendered change rooms
- family change room
- parking available
- near tennis courts and baseball diamonds
- bike parking right outside pool
- bags allowed on deck
- no lockers
- lots of deck space
- entrance ramp
- lane ropes during lane swim (and gets busy after 5pm!)

Monarch Park Pool
- slide, diving board
- strollers/bags allowed on deck
- Note at the end of June 2019: "Due to mechanical issues Monarch Park Outdoor pool will not open as scheduled. Staff are working to resolve these issues as quickly as possible. Opening date is to be determined."

North Toronto Memorial Pool:
- space to store strollers
- a large amount of bike racks outside
- bags/items can be kept on deck
- sloped entry into the shallow end

Parklawn Pool:
- no lockers, but you can bring bags on deck
- heaps of parking and park nearby
- "family" change room is really far away from the pool and I think you still have to walk through one of the gendered change rooms (unless this has been updated)
- no lane ropes during length swim.

Rotary Peace Park Pool:
- gendered and family change rooms
- 25-cent lockers
- bags allowed on deck
- landscaped fencing and vines around the deck

Riverdale Park East Pool:
- gendered changerooms and a family changeroom
- lockers take quarters
- bags allowed on deck
- *cold* showers!
- the slide is currently closed (as of the end of June)
- Muskoka chairs available on deck
- strollers and pop-up beach tents allowed on deck

Smythe Park Pool:
*it's been closed a lot this summer, so call in advance if you can*
- no universal change rooms (though you can walk straight onto the deck if you're already changed)
- a small kids pool AND a 50m pool
- no bags on deck and no lockers BUT there's an attendant and a place to store your things (or you can just leave your bag by a fence near the pool, inside the facility
- there's also a splashpad nearby
- no lanes during length swim

Sunnyside Pool:
- very strict about the no bags on deck! (You can bring stuff on deck, just no bags!)
- bring a quarter (and a back up!) for the lockers
- permanent width swim (with lane ropes)
- no universal/family change room
- small spot for strollers in the hall on the way to the shower
- very strict about no newspapers on deck
- lots of deck room
- baby car seats and bassinets allowed on deck

West Mall Pool:
- recently renovated
- gendered and universal change rooms
- no lockers
- bags allowed on deck
- outdoor showers
- accessible
- abundant muskoka chairs!

I woke up on Saturday morning, didn't hear any kids yelling for me and rolled over to go back to sleep, but then remembered IT WAS CHRISTMAS MORNING - a.k.a. opening day for Sunnyside Pool, and I bolted out of bed in a flash.

The first day of outdoor swimming in Toronto is truly my favourite day of the year. It was overcast, and chilly, but nothing can be worse than opening day two years ago (looking at you, nursing baby/thunderstorm/pool fouling...ahem!) and so, I piled swim stuff into my bike basket, remembered a quarter for the locker (and an extra, in case) and headed south to that turquoise I've been dreaming about for the last 10 months.

I was third in line, and when the doors opened exactly at 10am rushed to get dressed. There were no lane ropes in when I arrived (though they ended up putting them in mid-swim) and I was the third person in that huge, glorious pool. The air was crazy cold, the wind vicious, but the water was warm and steam blew off the surface. Cold water swimming I am NOT, so long as I was underwater, it was dreamy.



There were 12 of us in that huge pool. Twelve of us! And until the lane ropes were in, I swam lengths of that enormous pool, and then widths until I was brave enough to hop out and run to the change room.

I was smart enough to pack heaps of layers for the bike ride home—leggings, track pants, wool socks, then three layers on top, including a hood for under my bike helmet. It seemed like overkill, but the air was so brisk, I was grateful for the layers, and even wished I had mitts on the bike ride through High Park.



Here's to hoping the sun makes an appearance and not all summer swims end with winter wear. I am crossing my fingers.

PS: All the pools open soon, but Sunnyside and a bunch of other big pools in the city will be open in the evenings all week, and again next weekend. Pack your trackers and go for a dip!!

PPS: Last year's first Sunnyside swim. And 2017's. And 2016's!

I have to admit something: I hate taking my kid to swimming lessons. I want to love it. I want to feel inspired and excited by the process, and all the potential, but truth be told, I despise the whole thing. I don't have to go in with my oldest anymore, which is a relief (also an impossibility with another (younger) kid in the mix), and I've managed to read a few pages of a book every now and then. Or school through Instagram, or send a few long-overdue emails, but mostly, I just sit on the humid bench hating everything. (Mostly, I just want to trade places. He can sit on the deck, and I can swim. Wouldn't that be amazing? Half the pool for lessons, half for the parents to go for a dip themselves?)

My oldest is not (yet) a fan of the water. It's definitely gotten better. Tuesdays last fall would start at 7am with swim-dread and it would build and build until the 5:30 time slot and it would make the day unbearable. So far, that's subsided, which is a huge relief.

The thing is, I remember HATING swimming lessons. I loved swimming, I loved the water. At my grandparent's cottage, I'd be in the lake minutes after breakfast and would stay in until it was time to roast marshmallows at night, but I HATED swimming lessons back in the city. I'd always fail. I could never tread water. The other side of the pool was always so impossibly far away. Instructors were either too harsh or too chipper and no matter what I always wanted to impress them and always disappointed them.

It's such an intense situation—a tiny window, one-on-one, once a week, charged with expectations. It's such a lose-lose situation, really.

So I get it. Jack, I totally get it. But, as a wise dad friend of mine says, there are two things that are non-negotiable: swimming lessons and school. And so, we eat "bravery unicorns" on the way there, and celebrate with hotdogs afterwards (Side note: I distinctly remember getting McDLTs after my lessons at Norseman Pool!)

Mid-way through the term, my brilliant fella realized that "dunks" were the biggest point of fear, so he re-branded them, "SUPERHERO SPLASHES" and I can't even tell you what a difference that made. It was incredible. Thank god for marketing backgrounds...

Jack finished up last week and got a mama-made badge celebrating his superhero splashes, and my very brave, still-very-scared-of-the-water kiddo tried every week. Really, what more can you ask for?


AND my fella made him the most incredible book—photos of superheroes swimming, alongside photos of Jack in the pool. He just about burst when he saw himself next to a photo of Spidey and it's now fully in the bedtime reading rotation. I'm hoping this softens his memory of the pool, reshapes them even, so that instead of the fear, he remembers his bravery, his courage and the rush of pride in his accomplishments.

Here's to hoping. And to a summer of swimming joy...(it'll be warm enough one of these days, right?!) My goal is to make this summer all about having fun in the water. I want it all to feel lighter, and more playful. I want the pressure to be off. I'm so hoping we can find that, my kiddo and me.

I pulled my suit on the other morning at the pool, only to find the top band had entirely unattached from the rest of the suit. The stitching had totally disintegrated. I was so frustrated—this suit was pretty much brand new, I fumed.

Except, then I realized it wasn't. It wasn't brand-new at all. I got it right after my son was born, which makes it over 4 years old now. My pregnancy had stretched out my former suit so badly, all the seams had ripped open (ALLLL of the seams, ahem) and this bathing suit was my post-pregnancy treat to myself. Except getting it meant:
a) going to a mall
b) going to a mall with a baby
c) trying on bathing suits a few weeks post-partum (in a mall, with a baby)

So, not awesome. I remember grabbing a handful of Speedos (my suit of choice...not sponsored, though I'll take a bathing suit sponsorship any day! Holy smokes, they're pricey) in a handful of sizes because post-partum body and the sizing on my last suit had been bleached right off of the tag. It was March, or maybe early April, so the selection was terrible and I bought the first suit I managed to wriggle into. It wasn't pretty. It was blue and green in some strange zig-zaggy pattern, but it was a flattering cut that wouldn't slip off my shoulders, or ride up my butt.

And then I wore this not-so-pretty-but-very-servicable suit 3-4 times a week (at minimum!) for four years (minus the few months I wore my patched up old suit when I was pregnant the second time). That's over 700 swims. And so, I forgave the stitching that had disintegrated and thanked this workhorse of a suit for its years (!) of service.

(A friend has a 45 Wears project on Instagram, a project that promotes wearing clothes longer and celebrating clothes that last. I think I should submit this suit - it deserves a mention 15 times over!)

And so, I'm back to bathing suit shopping, which is still dreadful. Is a plain, solid colour suit so much to ask for? Yes. Yes it is, apparently. I have two issues (three if you count the awful change room lighting): 1). people swim-swim year-round. I get that fancy bikinis are more of a summer thing, but racing/swim-swimming suits aren't just a summer thing, and yet no stores carry them "out of season" and 2). WHAT IS UP WITH ALL THE SWIM-SWIMMING (as opposed to lounging) SUITS HAVING BOOB PADDING? Are people really so horrified by the potential of the outline of a nipple? The last thing I want is a pair of wet sponges dragging me down. Bah.

And so, I'm going to pull out my sewing machine and zip-zag stitch the top of my suit back together until I can find a workhorse for the next 700 swims.

I never think anyone has an outdoor pool until I get in an airplane and then I'm pretty sure EVERYONE has an outdoor pool and HOW CAN I BE FRIENDS WITH THEM PLEASE? Look at all those tiny pockets of turquoise blue. Just glorious! (What I'd give for an outdoor dip during this mid-October heatwave!)

Cue Swimply - the Airbnb of backyard pools.

I feel a bit conflicted: the former lifeguard in me wonders about safety concerns, and what about chlorine levels...? But the swimmer in me can't wait to jump into someone else's backyard for a dip. (You KNOW we're going on a Swimming Holes We Have Known Swimply tour next summer!)

I chatted about it with CTV News. (You can read it here, just imagine it with lots of hand gestures!)

There are only 2 Toronto pools for now, but I have great hopes for next summer.

It's 27 degrees out and the sun is blazing and there's no better place than the middle of a deep end, staring up at the blue sky and even though it's been two weeks, I'm still in deep denial that the outdoor pools are closed. But alas, they are closed and some mornings require sleeves and I am NOT HAPPY ABOUT IT.

It's still summer.

I think this might've been the best swimming summer I've had since I was eight. The railings in our backyard were always filled with drying towels, and I was constantly putting on a slightly damp suit, which feels gross, but is a sure sign of LOTS of swimming. My kiddos both fell in love with the water and we spent every weekend swimming, trying out new pools, tacking on picnics to afternoon dips, meeting friends and swimming swimming swimming, it was just the greatest.


Though I didn't get to swim with my swimmers, we managed to have docktails (well, rocktails as the docks were full of boating enthusiasts) and we traded summer swimming highlights.

It was hard for me to pick just one, but my highlight reel includes:
- Swimming on the Island (and not just going in for a dunk, but swim-swimming for 45 minutes!)
- My roadtrip to the Elora Quarry
- Lake swimming with loons (and with both of my kids!)
- A swim at Smythe Park pool late in August, where I had the entire 50m pool TO MYSELF for 45 minutes (!)
- And the (re)discovery of the Giovanni Caboto oasis, once on a Sunday at noon with my kiddos, where it was so empty and lanerope-less that I borrowed a pair of goggles from the lost and found and swam some impromptu lengths, and then for the rare unicorn that is a mid-week morning swim. It was my baby girl's first day of daycare and I celebrated with an entire fast lane to myself, while dragonflies flew over the turquoise blue. It was a wonderful start to a late August day and a perfect reclamation of time and headspace after a childcare-less summer.
- AND hearing about/seeing all the amazing swims people have gone on on Instagram and Twitter!


I have since put away the mountain of towels, suits, swim diapers, flip-flops, bucket hats and plastic floating zebra that has lived by the front door for the last two and a half months. It's now just my indoor pool gear—a boring one-piece, a flutterboard, shampoo, googles. It looks empty, that corner and makes me inordinately sad. (Maybe I should stick a pumpkin there?)

To fill the void, I'm reading Kerry Clare's beautiful ode to swimming and making plans for next summer including actually making it out to the east end for pool and lake swimming, more roadtrip swims, and, hopefully a trip to my favourite river.

In the meantime, if anyone has a pool/access to a hotel pool, holler! My suit is waiting by the door.

I grew up a short bike ride from Lake Ontario and we'd go to the Island every summer. We were swimmers, my whole family, but never once did we venture into the lake. Growing up, we were told you'd grow an extra leg if you ever set foot in Lake Ontario.


BUT the water quality has totally changed since the 80s and there are the most beautiful blue flag beaches, and so, with tips from Toronto walker/swimmer/ Shawn Micallef, my family took the Hanlan's Point ferry, then walked and walked (and somehow got the baby to sleep), following the signs for the clothing optional beach. We ducked under a beautiful wooden arbour, then dragged the stroller through the sand (stroller was great for hauling all of our stuff and for doubling as a crib for the baby, but not ideal in the sand!). I had no idea there were dunes on the west side of the island, but there we were, in thick rolling sand. It felt like Sandbanks-lite. And then, poof, a lake that looked like an ocean, clear and blue, and stretching on for forever.



It was actually breathtaking. I had the seize the moment (the sleeping baby moment) and I hopped in. There wasn't much shade, so we set the baby up under the shadow of the lifeguard tower and got to work: my fella was skipping stones, the kiddo was looking for perfect rocks and I went swimming.

There's a huge sandbar so I swam out to the buoys and could still stand (!) and I swam and I swam – stroke-stroke-CN Tower, stroke-stroke-neverending ocean-like horizon. It still astounds me. It was hands down the best swim I've ever had in Toronto. The beach was nearly empty. We were right on the line between the clothing optional beach and the clothing mandatory beach and there were maaaaaaybe five people for as far as we could see.


I swam and swam, then laid on a towel and the kid piled rocks on me. When the baby woke up, we wandered over to Gibraltor Point for a picnic and let her get her feet wet, 'cause the only person who loves swimming more than me is Claire.

We then walked to Centreville and took the kids on their first amusement park ride – a twirl on the 112-year-old carousel! The kiddo named his lion "Nana Ruth" and the toddler hopped on a pig and was the happiest I've ever seen her (roller coasters, watch out!)


Some tips:
- Pack chips. We didn't. I still regret it.
- We took the UP train and walked from Union Station - it was a DREAM compared to the last time I did a trip to the Island with a stroller that involved a bus, two subways, and LRT, a ferry and too many stairs/broken elevators to count...
- If you can, go mid-week.
- If you're sans little kids, rent one of the multi-person bikes!
- A pal noted the water taxis are amazing if you have kids who can't handle lines (or if you're the kid who can't handle lines, no judgment!)
- If you do take the ferry (which I LOVE - the orange ceiling of stuffed-together life jackets, the view of the CN Tower from the upper deck, the sunscreen coated kids, etc etc), make sure you hop on Jack Layton's tandem bike. Makes me happy-teary every time.
- The walk from the Hanlan's Point ferry terminal is a bit far for young kids – it's about 1km, worth it, but I'm glad we brought the back pack carrier for the kiddo and the stroller for the toddler. I've heard there's a great swimmable beach really close to the Ward's Island ferry terminal - I'm going to try it next time!


I can't wait till the kids are old enough to get the four-person bikes!

Every summer I have THE swim, the one I will remember in the heart of February. This year, the lake at the cottage we rent for a week every summer was still as glass after days of wind and whitecaps. The sun was shining and when I was halfway down the lake, I heard a loon call, and there they were, our family of loons (an asylum of loons!), not far from where I was swimming.

Confession: I was a bit terrified. They are such big birds and their beaks are so sharp and they swim so fast, but it also felt pretty magical to be sharing the water with them.



The other banner swim happened on the one night my fella and I managed to get down to the dock after the kids were asleep. We were sitting with docktails (recipe below!) and all of a sudden, a rainbow appeared over the lake, so OF COURSE I had to jump in for a late night dip.





We visited my beloved grandparents' dear friend from 50+ years ago and hung out with the loon family (I know I'm anthropomorphizing, but we watch the two baby loons learn to dive that week and I full on cried on the dock, cheering them on. They were so little, but so brave!) and caught frogs with my kiddo (he named his favourite frog "Manny Merman"), and my 16-month-old tried to launch herself off the dock every second of the day. Claire's love of the water truly astounds me – she is the happiest when she's in the water, splashing in the shallows, paddling off the dock. Swimming with her was so wonderful, and even Jack got on board and the highlight of my week was swimming with both of them in the lake at the same time. A family swim – it was actually a dream come true.


When I wasn't swimming, or reading, or frog catching, or trying to keep the baby from launching herself into the water, I was on the water. We went on our first family canoe ride with the four of us. It was great until we ran out of snacks and the baby's foot got tangled in a spider web. And I took a kayak out for a spin and I tried standup paddling boarding again. I tried it last year and didn't get what all the fuss was about, but I tried it again one afternoon when the lake was perfectly still and I needed to escape from the neverending frog catching/minnow hunting. It was so meditative, and I loved being on the surface, without being IN the water. It was like canoeing, but vertical. I loved the perch of it. I paddled all over the lake, along the far shoreline. It was one of my very favourite afternoons.



We lost power on our last day, and woke up to thick fog and still no power. So we packed the car without coffee and ran down to the dock for one final swim. The air was thick and grey and we couldn't even see across the lake, but we swam and arrived back to the city with hair still damp with lake water.

Jack has been talking about "The Summerary". It's unclear what he actually means, but he's described it as: "a swimming pool with a library, kind of like France, and a cottage. There are frogs, but no minnows" And so, this year's docktail is....THE SUMMERARY:



To make two perfect "Summerary" docktails:
2 spears of cucumber
juice from 1 lemon
2 oz Bombay Sapphire gin
1 oz Hendricks gin
mix with ice
top with tonic

Serve on the dock next to a family of loons while the kids nap. Best enjoyed on slightly damp towels, preceded by a leap in the lake.

I have been dreaming about the day when my kid goes to swimming lessons and I sit on the deck WITHOUT a suit on since his first Guardian swim class three years ago. Kerry wrote about her farewell to Guardian Swim a while back and it has been my touchstone for all those days bouncing around the shallow end making starfish and singing Ring Around the Rosy. I love swimming, (CLEARLY), but I hate Guardian Swim, a semi-free-for-all with barely-there instruction and teachers who insist you dunk your clearly petrified child under water or tell your 5-month-old to kick his legs (psssst, he doesn't know what his legs are...)

BUT, this week, it arrived. Solo swim classes. I brought a book. And no bathing suit. I was so excited.

And then my little guy walked onto the deck, looking so small against the backdrop of the pool. He followed his teacher, "Coach Brian" as he's known around here, into the shallow end. My first-born is hesitant around water (unlike my running-off-the-dock-at-any-given-chance second born), and to see him stand on the water table and blow bubbles, his small hands on his small hips, so clearly nervous and so clearly brave cracked me open.



Usually when we are swimming, our bodies are touching. I'm holding him under his arms, or he's balancing on my hip. We blow bubbles into each other's bubbles. We chase after toy zebras together, his legs kicking. It made my body ache, seeing the water up to his waist, blowing bubbles with an entire shallow end between us.

I was back in Parklawn Pool, and it was 1984 and I was standing on the table in the shallow end, desperate for my Yellow badge. I too was terrified, but also trying to be brave. I was him and I wasn't him at all.

I tried not to look so he wouldn't see my fear, or delight, I wasn't even sure what it was.

I opened my book and pretended to read, watching him out of the corner of my eye. I'd read a word, then glance up and he'd be kicking with a noodle. I'd read another word and glance up and he'd be giving Coach Brian a high five.

I've felt shades of this before, this heart-bursting, teary pride and clear distinction of him being his very own unique person in the world. It happened first when he ran into his classroom at daycare and was swept up in a hug by his caregiver, Yordanke, and again when he's played soccer with a skill I can't quite fathom and gone to birthday parties and fallen in with his pals with such ease and joy. But this was different. He looked so vulnerable in his little green whale trunks, his shoulder blades so tiny and delicate. This was so visceral.

I swam in the very same pool the day I gave birth to him, just hours before, though I had no idea then. I told him that on the way home. "Did I like Smarties when I was a baby?" was his response, eating his swimming bribe, I mean reward—one red and one orange Smartie.

I shook my head and tried not to cry.

He has swimming lessons again next week, and I will bring my book and try to read, but I know I will probably just stare at this beautiful, incredible body that once did flip turns inside me while I swam, flutter kicking against my ribs, and I will burst with pride and ache with nervousness, that line between us still a bit blurry.

One day this line won't be blurry and he will swim and I will read, but now that I've graduated from Guardian swim, I'm no longer in a hurry.