One thing that became apparent in the first lockdown is that the restriction of freedoms and the heightened attention around the virus made so many people more conscious of their own health and well-being. In times of great uncertainty, one of the only things you can take control of is yourself, even if it’s just the smallest of daily choices. We saw record numbers of people taking to the streets running and walking. With gyms closed, people got creative with home workout routines, makeshift weights and online classes. The public health advice seems to have focused on what we couldn’t or shouldn’t do rather than what we could or should do for ourselves, yet it seemed that so many people didn’t need to be told. Even people who’d never thought much about it instinctively knew what their bodies and minds needed, whether to renew resolutions to get fitter, or just to get out of the house for a walk when they could.
Restrictions eased and summer came, and with it came that feeling that we should make the most of sunny days, amplified by the built-up effects of the lockdown. Everyone took to the hills and the sea like calves let out in spring, and we couldn’t go abroad so we were forced to get to know what we had in front of us in Ireland: turns out it’s as good as anywhere else. Sea-swimming is now hugely popular, its practitioners perhaps expressing a bit of their humanity by braving the elements. Despite many having assumed that the ocean was only to be enjoyed in warm countries, anyone who embraces the Irish sea or ocean knows that no words or rational thoughts can convince them that they don’t feel better after it.
There came with it all a great deal of pressure. The strange novelty of it all, our collective eyes being glued to social media and our phones, and the result of that busy-ness the sun naturally exerts on us to make the most of its presence; to be ‘productive’. The pressure to always be doing something and the learn-a-language-and-write-a-book-while-baking-fifty-sourdoughs mentality came with that. It infected me as well, I’ll admit, though the only recipes I learned were for cocktails. As much as I appreciated every chance to leave the house and get out in that glorious sun, I also felt guilty when I didn’t go outside, no matter if I’d work to do or didn’t really feel like it.
Now the possibilities of life have been set out again with greater certainty – though not in the way we’d like. I’m sure I’m not the only one a bit exhausted by it all at this stage. Not to mention the weather, though I must at some point. Much of the enthusiasm for productivity has waned, through burnout perhaps, both personal and cultural, and with the natural cycle of the seasons. It’s normal now to have less motivation to go outside, fewer opportunities to dodge the nastier elements, less energy.
How can we stay active, now that our gyms and our clubs and our people and our summer have been taken away from us again? I think one positive from the year is that so many people now have the answers to that. The nation has shown remarkable creativity in trying to keep things going with some resemblance to how they were before, or with a vision of how they want them to be with what we have. Just as important as how we do things, we’ve been forced to think carefully about why we do things. In the absence of football training, you mightn’t find any great desire to kick a football, alone, in your back garden. But you might be far more aware of the value of being part of a club, and how much you care about your teammates. You might realise how much you value those relationships, or with a quick call you might discover how much someone else does. If you can’t go for a dip in the cold sea, maybe you can go run in the rain – it’s not the swimming you miss but the shock to the senses that the elements provide.
This year has been one big information overload, and so much of it contradictory or confusing. As well as the increased awareness of our physical health, we’ve all become aware of the effects of all this information on our minds. Many are getting fed up with the information. Forced now to walk alone, run alone, and to be alone for much greater periods than we’ve ever experienced, this lockdown feels more personal as a result of all that’s gone on. One thing emerges from this solitude, this stillness, this rejection of information and this heightened awareness of our own bodies and minds: intuition.
We’ve all been doing this – this 2020 survival, whatever it looks like for you – for long enough now. We have so much of our own personal experience to draw on. In the absence of external pressures and obligations, it’s only yourself you have to listen to. At the end of the day, listening to your body and mind will steer you right. And despite what we’ve been told about our natural tendency being towards laziness or inaction; that sitting at home with Netflix is preferable to going out in the rain, or that exercise is inherently ‘hard’ – so many people have discovered this year that to them, it’s vital.
We are gone beyond now going for a run or even swimming in the sea because ‘they’ say it’s good for us, or because all our friends are doing it or there’s a lockdown challenge online. There’s time now to act on our deepest urges and do what we know we need to do, for ourselves. It could be a daily walk, it could be a workout at home, or an online yoga class.
Or maybe, some days, you don’t feel like doing any of them. Maybe you’ve done enough training this year and need to rest or recover. Maybe, like me, you need to spend a bit more time sitting still. If you look outside and the rain makes you want to curl up on the couch for the evening, then maybe you should. But some days too, maybe you’ll just get the feeling to put on your runners and nothing to protect you but a t-shirt and shorts, to step outside into the storm, to embrace the rain on your skin and run head-first into the wind. Do it.