Breathing hard to breathe easy

Adam Ball’s 13 Lake Challenge for Cystic Fibrosis

When I was born, I was given a life expectancy of 30 because I was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis (CF), a genetic condition causing thick mucus affecting lungs, digestive system and ability to breathe. That number stayed in the background of my life for a long time. It was always there, looming quietly in the corner.

This January, I turned 30.

To mark the milestone, I decided to do something bold – a challenge not just for myself, but for the thousands of people living with CF, and for the families and friends who walk the path alongside them. I’m currently in the middle of swimming all 13 publicly swimmable lakes in the Lake District (71km) as part of my campaign: The Challenge 13 Lake Swims for Cystic Fibrosis.

It’s a tough physical challenge, but a deeply personal one, too. I believe I’ll be the first person with CF to complete it. And I hope that in doing so, I can help raise both awareness and funds for the Cystic Fibrosis Trust, while also planting a seed of hope in anyone facing their own battle.

Why swimming?

Swimming has always been in my life. I’ve never swum competitively, but I’ve always felt at home in the water. There’s a strange sort of peace that comes with the rhythm of it – a quiet connection to your breath, your body, and the world around you.

But for someone with Cystic Fibrosis, it goes much deeper. Growing up, one of the key physiotherapy treatments I did every day involved a device called a PEP mask. It creates resistance when you exhale, helping to open up the lungs and shift the sticky mucus that CF creates.

One day during a swim, it hit me – swimming, especially front crawl, mimics this exact process. Controlled, pressurised exhalation. Rhythmic breath. Physical effort with therapeutic impact. I knew my challenge needed to be in the water.

A life shaped by CF

Living with CF is relentless. As a child, I spent countless hours doing nebulisers, IV antibiotics, and physiotherapy. I remember hospital visits every few months, long lines in my arm feeding antibiotics into my bloodstream three times a day.

Despite all this, I always felt grateful, strange as that might sound. Grateful that I could still do most things other kids could. Grateful for parents who made my daily treatment part of our routine.

In secondary school, the emotional weight started to hit – the awkwardness of taking pills with food at restaurants (60 per day), feeling drained by colds and bugs that hit me harder and lasted longer. And yet, I kept pushing. Not because I felt brave or defiant, but because I wanted to live fully, whatever that looked like for me. In 2020, my life changed forever. I started a new drug called Kaftrio, part of a generation of treatments transforming CF care. Within hours, I felt like I could breathe clearly for the first time. My lungs felt open, light. I absorbed food better. I recovered faster. It was like I had been handed a second chance.

But a drug alone doesn’t do the work – it just gives you the opportunity. So I grabbed it with both hands. I trained. I strengthened my lungs. I took my fitness seriously. And that’s where Challenge 13 came from – a way to push the boundaries of what I thought I was capable of, and to redefine what someone with CF can look like.

Long-distance swimming and what it’s given me

There’s something unique about long-distance swimming, especially in open water. It’s not just physical; it’s emotional and sometimes spiritual.

When you swim for hours, especially solo, you confront your thoughts. You ride the rhythm of your own breath, your own pace. You feel nature press against you – the cold, the stillness, the scale of it all. You also feel small in the best way. And for someone who grew up constantly aware of his lungs, that’s incredibly grounding.

Swimming has expanded my lung capacity, improved my recovery, and given me confidence in my own physicality. But more than that, it’s given me purpose and a powerful sense of agency over a body that once felt like it was working against me.

More than a fundraiser

Challenge 13 isn’t just about raising money, though that part is vital. So far, the campaign has raised over £13,000 for the Cystic Fibrosis Trust, and I’m incredibly grateful for every penny.

The challenge is also about representation. When I was younger, I didn’t see people with CF doing things like this. I want the next generation to see that narrative change. That we’re not defined by our diagnosis. That strength can grow from struggle.

I want someone who’s newly diagnosed or who has a child with CF to see this and feel even just a flicker of hope.

What’s next?

At the time of writing, I’ve completed 12 of the 13 lakes, including some big ones like Ullswater (the longest so far), Coniston and Wastwater (the deepest in England). I’m training hard for Windermere, the final and biggest at 17km.

I’ll be swimming that lake by the energy of every message I’ve received from others with CF, every story of struggle and strength, and the memories of my younger self who once couldn’t walk up a hill without needing to stop and recover. From being told I wouldn’t reach 30, to celebrating it by swimming further than I ever imagined.

If there’s one message I’d love readers to take away, it’s this: your limits are not set in stone. Whether you have CF or any other challenge in life, the future isn’t fixed. We can evolve. We can adapt. And weeing in your wetsuit feels awesome.