52 Ways to Well: #3 Sauna-ing back to myself
Getting hot and steamy on one of the hottest days of the year
It feels somewhat counterintuitive to write about seeking out heat on one of the hottest days of the year, but in my quest to be more ok in my body, I find myself at a new community sauna.
Wildcat had opened in our town to local hipster acclaim a few months ago and I’ve wanted to visit, though in the same way I would a new restaurant opening or exhibition. But it was reading (again slightly not-of-the moment) How to Winter by Kari Leibowitz (here on Substack as
) that I felt myself drawn to one idea above all the others: the Scandinavian love of sauna.I learn from Leibowitz that sauna is a Finnish word and there’s even a legend that when the first settlers arrived in the country they built a sauna before building houses. There’s an estimated 3 millions saunas in Finland, for a population of 5.5 million: so that’s one sauna for every two people. Having a sauna in your home is like having a bathtub, and even the president has an official one!
It’s embedded in the culture, sweating together leveling any hierarchies around status, wealth, or class. And it’s also been found to have a huge range of health benefits from easing stress to lowering blood pressure, and boosting our immune system. I’m here hoping for something that helps with fatigue, but also helps me realise that there is more to me than a head on a body and hands that type.
Yet the sauna is so much more than just a hot box. The sauna is an escape, both physical and mental. It’s a time to slow down, pause, and connect: with ourselves, with our bodies, with each other. The psychological relaxation, the unhurried time away, the social ties strengthened by regular sauna visits: these are all factors that improve health…” — Kari Leibowitz
And in the UK, we’re catching up:
The British Sauna Society reported that the number of Finnish-style saunas in the UK doubled from 45 in early 2023 to over 100 in 2024.
They expect the number to double again to more than 200 by the end of 2025.
One report states that there were 147 public sauna sites in the UK so far in 2025, jumping from 45 in 2023.
Another source, also from the British Sauna Society, stated that as of May 2025, there were 213 "wild saunas" in the UK, doubling from 104 in May 2024, and only 45 in January 2023.
Where I live in Somerset in the last year alone, I’ve noticed a handful of new community saunas opening up, on rewilded farms, natural woodlands and like this one, industrial estates, cleverly hidden behind large fences that make a sanctuary of this little corner of the world. My friend calls it Ibiza by parking lot.
Walking through the bright orange door, I find that I’m the first here. As it’s my first visit too, I’m taken around: shown a sauna that sits in a graffitied truck that is hotter than the traditional wooden barrel sauna that sits next to it. There are five plunge baths, one of which is “entry level”. I’m shown the hats Scandinavians wear and wonder if anyone does so here.
I choose the hottest because it’s closest to my changing room and I’m feeling body conscious. But quickly leave as I feel more burning than relaxed. The wooden barrel one is cozier. It’s now filled with a mix of locals who feel like they visit often, a group that’s clearly on holiday and a couple who like me are wellbeing curious.
I’m not sure of the etiquette. Do we sit in silence? Avoid eye contact? Hide my unpainted toes.
But there’s quick conversation mostly around sharing tips about how to make the most of sauna: 15 minutes cycles of sauna and cold water, 3 to 6 at the most.
It feels kind and easy. I close my eyes. I rest into the moment.
When I was last fully in my body I had sought out heat then too. I’d get myself to Bikram Yoga after a long commute, sinking into the room and myself, sweating and stretching on Chiswick High Road. That was pre-kids when heat melted me. Post kids there feels more of me to slide, but the allure of the warmth again — as something embracing — remains the same. I allow it to befriend me again.
Then it’s into the cold water. The part I’m dreading. I choose the ‘warmer’ option. My body prickles but doesn’t revolt.
It doesn’t yet feel bad, but it doesn’t feel good either. I deep breathe, count breaths, last 10-ish seconds. Feel proud of myself. Seek out the heat again.
I’m still kind of disassociating — not quite ready to be fully in my body in the cold, wanting to be more in it for the heat.
I think of my skin — why is it all teenage again? Hormonal? Will this clear it up?
I think of a podcast I recorded that morning. How do I edit it?
I think of that school WhatsApp group and what I’ve missed, and what I’d like to miss.
I’m like 70% here, maybe 60%. I’ll take that.
I still worry about my toes.
After my hour is up, I wander through the complex next door that holds an artisan bakery. And I make — for the first time — the healthier choice. I choose salad over a pastry. It takes me about 20 minutes to realize I’m cold again.
I bring out the phone I haven’t had access to — they are banned in the sauna environment, and wonder whether that stilled my mind too. I wonder too about taking instagram off my phone.
I feel like I’ve just met up with a friend that I’ve neglected and though I can’t quite make eye contact, I feel happy to be there: hello body.
So how does this fit in The Year of Living Wellishly? Have I met my own rules?
With other people. Collective? Yes, there are people around — there’s a women’s only session at another local sauna that I want to try. But it’s communal and feels different than a spa retreat with its transient visitors. Also I learn from Leibowitz that this is a key component of sauna: The Swedish Sauna Academy’s motto is “In saunas veritas”, which means “In sauna, there is truth.” People open up. People talk. It’s social (which is news to this introvert Brit).
Not too expensive. Yes, it’s £10 for a sauna and cold plunge and you can buy packs for frequent visits. In Finland not going often can be described as once a week, with people using saunas four to seven times, so I’m not sure how that will translate here.
Local. Yes, it’s in my town and independently owned.
Not in the evenings. This one is tricky as it’s hard to square a visit during the day probably because it feels like ‘a treat’, but I’ve gone a few times in my lunch-hour and meet other people using their midday break here too.
Once a week: Yes, it’s probably sustainable
Keep: Yes. Right now though it’s easy. A sunny day means those transitions out of the sauna are easy. The irony is that I’m not sure how colder months will work.
So I commit to trying it again. Trying the others too: the forest one sounds magical, the new one by a pond like a summer retreat.
And sauna is in my life.
Yours? Let me know if, how and where you sauna, or if you’re just curious to try.
Sending love and warmth,
x Claire
If you’re new here, hi and welcome.
I’m at the beginning of A Year of Living Wellishly, where I try to explore one aspect of wellbeing and live it out in an actual, real, messy life. There’s the science and then there’s being human. This sits in the gap between the two.
You can learn about this project more here:
Last time, I went walking:
Join me? You can just read along or create your own way to wellness with me. This month it’s all about our mind-body connection. There’s just one more week to go: next time I’m trying a new way to slow down.
Next up? I’m thinking about a month of venturing into either creativity or connection. Feels appropriate for these summer months. If you have a preference let me know.