The chemical 'pool smell' caused by chlorine and urine

That sharp "clean" pool smell isn't actually chlorine. Pure chlorine in water is nearly odorless. That stinging aroma is the scent of "chloramines"—a funky byproduct born when chlorine meets human fluids.

It’s a chemical reaction. When chlorine molecules slam into the nitrogen found in your sweat, oils, and—mostly—urine, they transform into these pungent gases.

Basically, if a pool smells "strong," it’s a sign the water is a chemical soup of used-up disinfectant and pee. The "cleaner" it smells, the grosser it actually is.

Wait, are those gross gases the reason my eyes turn red?

Exactly. You aren't suffering from "chlorine burn." You’re experiencing a direct chemical irritation from those pee-byproducts. Those chloramines are literally off-gassing from the water and dissolving into the moisture on your eyeballs.

Think of it as a tiny, invisible cloud of waste-gas marinating your tear film. It strips away the protective oily layer of your eyes, leaving the sensitive, raw tissue exposed and angry.

So, when you walk out looking like a bloodshot zombie, it’s because your eyes spent the last hour fighting off a nitrogen-rich mist of human discharge. It's the pool's way of telling you it's full.

Does that mean it's also eating the natural oil off my skin?

Spot on. Those chloramines act like a chemical vacuum for your natural grease. While they're irritating your eyes, they're simultaneously stripping the sebum—the waxy, oily sludge that keeps your skin from cracking open.

That squeaky clean feeling is actually the sensation of your skin's protective barrier being dissolved. You're left with raw, thirsty tissue that has been marinated in a cocktail of disinfectant and stranger-sweat.

It even attacks your hair, prying up the microscopic scales of the hair shaft until your head feels like a bundle of dry, brittle hay. It is a full-body chemical peel you never asked for.

So with the barrier gone, is that gross water soaking into my skin?

Exactly. Your skin is usually a waterproof raincoat, but chloramines turn it into a thirsty sponge. Once that waxy sebum is dissolved, your cells are wide open.

Through a process called osmosis, your body actually starts drinking. You’re absorbing the diluted urine, sweat, and chemical byproducts directly into your tissue.

It’s why your skin feels waterlogged and heavy. You’re literally marinating in the communal bathwater, sucking up those contaminants through your now-defenseless pores.

Where does all that absorbed stranger-fluid actually go once it's inside me?

It doesn't just sit in your skin like a puddle. Once those contaminants slip past your ruined barrier, they hitch a ride into your lymphatic system and eventually your bloodstream.

Your kidneys then have to pay the "pool tax." You’re essentially forcing your internal organs to filter out the sweat and urea of every stranger who did a cannonball next to you.

It’s a bizarre cycle: you absorb someone else’s waste through your pores, only for your own body to pee it out later. You've basically become a mobile filtration unit for the public.