By association

I have a friend who plots her usual running route via her favourite café, and always ends her run there, so she can enjoy the treat of a takeaway coffee as she walks home. Another friend told me recently that he only ever wears his favourite shirts on Mondays. Many people I know tend to wear their best outfits on Fridays, to celebrate the end of the week, however he said he finds his favourite, brightly-coloured shirts cheer him up on the day he finds most difficult, giving him some small thing to look forward to on a Sunday evening.

This friend no longer lives in a city, but when he did, and would face a 45 minute commute every day on very busy public transport, he would save this time for reading, and ended up looking forward to it as a chance to enjoy his book. Back when I was training for my marathon, years ago, I would only ever listen to music when I went out running. It became a way to motivate myself, as I always looked forward to the enjoyment of the music, leading me to look forward to the runs themselves as well.

My husband long ago formed the habit of listening to the radio while ironing – a task he used to find boring, but not when gripped by whatever sports commentary happens to be on (or sometimes singing along to the greatest hits!)

We all need a little bit of motivation sometimes, and it can help to form a habit of linking something joyful with something you find more difficult, so they form an association. You might find you even end up looking forward to your chore or task as it brings a joyful side effect!

A reconnection

Karen Darke had felt pain in her left shoulder for so long that she felt “held together” by supportive tape intended to relieve pressure on muscles and joints. When she went to a doctor, he told her she had the shoulders of an 80 year old – in her 40s – and would need corrective surgery and probably a shoulder replacement at some point.

A geologist, Karen was working in the Bolivian Andes when an accident left her paralysed from the chest down. She took up the sport of hand cycling, and went on to win gold for Britain in Rio de Janeiro in 2016. It was after the win in 2016 that her shoulder hurt, and she found herself feeling “completely misaligned” after eight years of gruelling training.

She had been prepared for the risk of depression after the Olympics, which is a known phenomenon among athletes. To combat this, she had planned a trip to cycle 1,500km through Patagonia with two teammates and one of their wives. When she told them she wasn’t sure if she was up to it due to her run-down condition, they encouraged her to go.

The group cycled through villages, some hundreds of kilometres apart. Karen’s story is shared in the book Wilder Journeys: True Stories of Nature, Adventure & Connection, edited by Laurie King and Miriam Lancewood. In it, Karen writes of the pleasure of reconnecting with nature again, adding: “For all the comforts offered by our modern world, I can think of no substitute more satisfying than lying on the grass watching a sinking sun after a day moving through the great outdoors, listening to the soothing bubble of a nearby stream and the crackle of a small fire”.

After days of cycling, allowing her mind to drift and focus just on the kilometres ahead and enjoying the nature surrounding her, Karen writes that she feels like she is “waking up from a long coma”. Her shoulder stops hurting, and her movement is no longer limited when reaching or stretching. She no longer has need of any shoulder surgery, and writes that she will later phone to cancel it.

Karen’s story is a truly remarkable one, and this is just one episode within it. But it is a fascinating example of a serious intervention being planned for a patient (in this case surgery) and then later cancelled after a change in lifestyle – in this case trading an urban lifestyle focussed on a gruelling training regime for a reconnection to nature at a different pace.

Off to the woods

The moment I stepped onto the train, I knew I had made the right choice. Half an hour later, I was even more sure as I left the pavement and my feet crunched onto fallen autumn leaves. I squelched through the mud, reaching for my hat and scarf to protect against the colder air, and looked up to see shafts of sunlight reaching through the branches above. I could feel myself relaxing. How could I have considered missing this?

It was a weekend day shortly before Christmas, when I had found myself unexpectedly without any fixed commitments or obligations. I did however have a long list of things to do, which had been building up over the busy run-up to Christmas. I had tried to get everything ticked off before the weekend but it just hadn’t been possible. As I contemplated my to-do list that morning, I felt a little overwhelmed, knowing that I would have to go back to work the next day. Despite having so much to get done, I also knew this was my last chance before Christmas to get outside for a walk on my own due to other commitments. I sat down at my desk with a cup of tea and sighed, resigning myself to a day in front of my laptop, regretting the walk I was missing out on.

Half an hour later, I found myself staring out of the window, feeling tired and distracted and not having made any progress. I made a decision, closed my laptop, and went to get changed. An hour later I was in the woods, trampling along one of my favourite paths. I immediately felt calmer, and despite me not making progress on it in that moment, my to-do list felt a lot more manageable.

After a blissful walk, I went home, and got more done in a few hours in the afternoon than I had during the whole of the previous day. It reminded me what I already knew: the importance of taking time to rest and recharge rather than trying to “power through” any kind of task. A few days ago, coming up against an abrupt return to the to-do list at the start of the new year, I deployed the same tactic. This time I made a plan the day before and left earlier, managing to have a wonderful few hours of walking before a full, productive day. I find especially in the winter, and at the start of a new year when things can feel abruptly busy, it can be very helpful to identify something that helps you recharge, and dedicate time to that very valuable activity.