It’s been pretty hard navigating the nuances of lockdown legislation with regard to outdoor exercise this time around. This post started as an Instagram caption but sort-of snowballed, so I decided it might be better placed on my blog for those with a stronger stomach for rambling. Following on from a number of posts from others working within the outdoor media sphere, as well as those for whom time spent outdoors is a most necessary form of decompression from their day job, I thought I’d throw my two cents in, for what it’s worth.
In part this post is a nod to our NHS, off the back of a reluctant visit to my local Urgent Treatment Centre last week. I felt it pertinent to share my experience, given the number of folk I have encountered lately who seem morally conflicted and generally confused about the whole ‘exercising outdoors’ thing of late. I can’t promise any conclusions of my own, but rather wanted to share my own views gently and with respect.
After suffering yet another nasty ankle injury whilst out walking (yes, locally), I anticipated looks of disdain at the triviality of my injury from the already overwhelmed staff, yet I was treated with the same kindness and care that I have always experienced from our incredible NHS. I am deeply sorry that I ever expected any less. To quote one nurse –
“People will get ill, people will get injured. You don’t have to have COVID to be worthy of our care.”
It was this statement that drove home for me, the absolute and utmost importance of protecting our NHS right now. Not only protecting the service as a whole from being overwhelmed, but protecting these individuals from exposure as much as is possible in the current climate. My injury is testament to the fact that accidents can happen whilst taking part in the most seemingly benign activities. I have since lockdown began again, taken a step back from climbing, and that day I wasn’t even running. Luckily, I was also only a short distance from the van and managed to shuffle most of the way down without much assistance.
One thing that I feel very strongly about the effects of a global pandemic on human behaviour, is that is has brought out the best and the worst in folk. Iterations of “we’re all in this together” have lost their shine as a population jaded by often nonsensical rules clamour for a little bit of happiness in all of the grey. And grey is a good word, since nothing we’ve been told to do has been black and white. The problem is, that if one individual interprets the rules to suit themselves in a way that is perhaps a little riskier than necessary, another sees this action and wonders, “well, why am I bothering to follow the rules?”, and off they go. Perhaps those people are experienced and competent in their chosen activity, nothing happens, but the snowball effect is such that eventually there’s an accident, and that’s one less bed in ICU.
A number of key workers that I have both encountered physically and also talked to virtually recently, had a common interest in the outdoors. Be it walking, climbing, mountaineering or fell running, most too are taking a step back from their favourite things in the name of public health. One person, intimated that they felt that having worked throughout the pandemic in a high-risk, public-facing role whilst many others had had a disproportionate amount of time to spend with uninhibited access to the outdoors, that they were more entitled to now bend the rules somewhat, or to travel a little further afield in their spare time.
As a key worker myself (albeit certainly not in any medical capacity) and having worked throughout the pandemic I can empathise with this feeling. It is difficult not to feel a little bitter about those many days spent stacking shelves and selling sandwiches to tourists gleefully heading into the mountains when I could not. It is incredibly difficult to abide by rules that others have flouted (and at times very obviously, where I work), and yet adopting an attitude of “everyone else is doing it” is only going to hinder the speed at which things can return to normal and honestly, I’d like to get on with my life now, thanks.
Another NHS worker that I talked with at length about the current regulations, agreed that whilst it was difficult not to feel bitter that others who have had elongated periods of access to the outdoors over the last year and still continue to do things as normal despite the situation worsening dramatically. Yet a sense of entitlement and their own bending of the rules would only mean that they themselves would have to pick up the pieces, and so they abstain.
I suppose my point is here, that if NHS workers (and I use this example specifically because of the direct effect the consequences of rule-bending has on them) can put aside their desire to partake in their usual decompression activity whilst working through probably one of the most stressful times in their careers AND lives, for just a few more weeks – why can’t the rest of us?
I am by no means decrying anyone going outside, it is imperative for our wellbeing. I have had it put to me that if I could currently run, would I not be driving a short distance to do so somewhere more picturesque than the pavements of town? Perhaps. A twenty minute drive could land me somewhere where I am significantly less likely to be hit by a car, and FAR less likely to encounter any other person at close proximity. I can park a good distance from civilisation, am entirely self-sufficient in my van, I am mindful of touching gates and other surfaces and I wouldn’t dream of heading out when the roads are icy. Does my application of common sense and good judgement morally justify my travelling for exercise, or is this just a lesser version of an experienced alpinist planning a mountain excursion during lockdown because they’ve got all the gear and there are less people up there, or perhaps that is deemed an acceptable risk too? I could never feel vindicated in jeopardising someone else’s health for my own gratification, so I try to lower the risk of not only my becoming injured and needing to be rescued, but also my risk of transmitting the virus to others should I have it. As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t really need to travel. I’ve got a big, flat boring field next door.
Owing to the aforementioned ankle injury, I have had a good deal of horizontal time to contemplate this, and one thing that seems to be prevalent in the dispute is single-mindedness. A brief foray into the forums of UKC (a delight, as always) demonstrated the absolute polarisation of people during lockdown 3.0, and it’s quite sad to see the judgement and vitriol thrust upon one another over something that is usually common ground. My final words on this for now (and I told you there probably wouldn’t be any solid conclusions), follow in bullet-point format. These are the questions I ask myself when the temptation to foray into the mountains takes hold and I feel the FOMO hard:
- Honestly, could you step this down a notch; lower your grade, top rope, train from home? Do you NEED to travel? Will that big, flat, boring field next door do for now, or what about a road run for a change?
- If you’re seeking approval from others for your actions then err on the side of caution, something is telling you that perhaps this isn’t alright.
- Think of others not as a whole, but as individuals. Your actions don’t just affect this big, faceless entity called humanity, or some blue and white letters called the NHS, but people just like you.
I’d love to hear what you think and am always open to differences of opinion. This is such a contentious area at the moment amongst us outdoorsy folk, but we all share a love of the same thing, so let’s keep it civil in the comments.