Training in different environments can change things. Not necessarily the overt things, but subtle things. Things that can make us uncomfortable, and things that can help us to adapt in ways we didn’t know we could.
Air Bathing & Seasonal Change
At some point, I am not sure when - and I do not really have much incentive to check, ice baths and saunas became very popular in the fitness community. Why this happened? I have discussed this with friends, clients and coworkers and the most common answers seem to related to ‘podcasts’, ‘Wim Hof’, ‘Science’ or ‘Health’ (whatever that may mean - I am certain that term has highly variable meaning(s) depending on the individual).
Because I am by nature a big ol’ skeptic (and cynical one at that) I often think that the reasons are more depressing: Money.
For decades, centuries - individuals have written and discussed the benefits of exposure to the elements. From special Judo training in the height of summer (Shochu geiko), Himalayan ‘Tummo’ meditation generating heat in cold climates, George Herbet’s ‘Air Bathing’. These are all ways in which being exposed to the climate, to the air, to the weather - can lead to positive outcomes. To be able to endure or even thrive in the cold. To rejoice in sweating, and to avoid making convenient excuses to avoid discomfort.
Spending time outdoors allows us to adjust our training with the seasons. We can rejoice in the cool breeze, prolong our warm-ups in the bitter cold, strategise our fluid intake in the stifling summer heat.
We are weathered; Physically affected by the weather. But in allowing ourselves to be exposed to the elements we can adapt in small, meaningful, ways.
But my cynicism sees the selling of ‘programmes’ or ‘protocols’ that are ‘science based’ (which so-often means cherry-picked data and wishful thinking). There are saunas and ice tubs and tools that exist and are popularised.
But what if we just allowed nature to weather us. We can cover up from excessive UV radiation, we can hydrate effectively, we can cool down when necessary. We can do so with such minimal worries. But… you don’t need to buy anything. It’s free.
The Dancer
In 2018 I had a client who was a dancer dealing with some serious back pain. The side-effect of this was that she also was struggling with anxiety during performances. It was beginning to impact her career as a dancer (which also brought a number of existential worries - which in turn dramatically began to chip away at her mental health)
After some careful consideration and discussion with her I took her out of the clinic. She has tried a lots of different clinics and therapists, trainers and psychologists but she struggled to stick with one.
At the time, our clinic was based near a university athletic track. It always had plenty of people running and training nearby. So we went there to work on some movements.
The physical challenges I presented her with were small, but managing the social cognition - the awareness of people observing at watching - was a real hurdle. We started off with fairly mundane exercises: Bodyweight leg training variation, running speed drills and plyometrics. Her anxiety was the biggest obstacle to progress. Everything was a stressor. Everyone was a source of anxiety.
The hidden lesson, which I revealed to her after 3 sessions, was to inoculate her against the knowledge of people watching and looking at her. To try to take her into the world, and out of the ‘safe’ clinic.
We developed into some esoteric martial arts preparatory movements, choreo-coordinations & plyo-coordinations and upper body integration. And after 6 sessions over 3 weeks she felt confident to ‘perform’ almost anything at the track. After these three weeks she was back at full-time rehearsals. But it was enough. Her anxiety had all but disappeared at felt ‘[she]… was back to herself again’ (her words).
We weathered her.
Or she was weathered.
But not primarily in the physical world but in the unpredictable social world. Weathered by the gaze and words of others.
The risk of judgement. People observing. We notice it all, without thinking. But, soon enough, we get used to handling the ‘local weather’.
It might be a chore, and it might be uncomfortable - but we weather it well.
The Grappler
I was practicing wrestling in a local park in South London (Not wise).
I had learnt breakfalls (Ukemi) from Judo - where there is a focus on slapping the hand. I took a fall and slapped the ground - hard. And hit a rock. I thought I broke my hand. My training buddy was a Judoka who was cross training MMA and he laughed and said the same thing just happened to him.
A few weeks later I was in the same park chasing a frisbee that started to fall backwards after reaching its zenith. I had to change direction and turn but my legs went in the air and I fell - quite hard. In the moment I had I kept everything tight and tucked my head. After landing and having a good laugh with my friends and the people watching me take a huge fall - I saw that a hard slap would have cracked my hand on, you guessed it, a big rock.
And many years later when I heard from Lavel Marshall attending Bokh tournaments in Inner Mongolia he said the same thing. You’ll break your hand if you slap the ground. Just focus on tucking your head and absorbing with your body and feet.
The slippery surfaces, and the ground that hides rocks - can teach us a lot. The surface of the world is weathered - and that process indirectly affects us.
The Climber
If you climb regularly outdoors you will have noticed the weather: The temperature, the humidity… the way water condensates on the rock. You feel the wind; the subtle shifts in direction in the gusts of air as they try to dislodge you, or blow dust into your eyes.
And your hands, over the course of weeks and months, become accustomed to the specific rocks, and the techniques you use. Excessive hand jams will shape and build certain structures in the hands (and feet). The skin will toughen. Tolerance to pain will increase.
In the heat the tiny crimps and slopers become unclimbable - with sweaty fingertips. But in the heart of winter, when the air is crisp and dry. And if we are lucky enough to avoid the rain and the snow. We might ascend.
And the holds and rock and shapes we cling to - these might crack and break as the freeze-thaw cycle occurs over seasons. The rock is weathered and worn.
I briefly worked with an indoor climber who was having trouble committing to hard sends. He had a decade climbing under his belt, but he was just lacking something. I watched video of him climbing, and I did some testing of his general physical qualities. He was strong enough, generally. But something was lacking.
He did some outdoor trad climbing with a friend, something he hadn’t done for many years. Immediately after his 3 day trip he sent me a message saying he realised what was wrong: ‘I just scared to fail. I think it’s because I’m single’.
He had led a trad route - something he hadn’t done in a while - and he realised that the fear of falling and taking a big whip focussed made his gym reasoning seem pathetic - in terms of consequences. In the gym, falling was an inconvenience; a social embarrassment. He wanted to impress the girls.
Spending time outside of such a tightly controlled environment was a clear lesson to him. When he returned he said he blew past his previous struggles. The inert stone had corrected his perspective; gave his space to reflect on his action in a different context.
Training in the outdoors
But, luckily for us, our bodies (and minds) are not inert rocks.
As the cold wind howls we can make choices.
We can create windbreaks; we can find windbreaks. We can wear extra layers, or we can move around - generate our own heat. We find solutions to these environmental constraints and challenges.
But many of us prefer to climb indoors - the conditions are static. Reliable, predictable holds. Climate control. No rucking or carrying gear through awkward terrain. Shower and toilets readily available. Maybe even a cafe to relax in.
And this is a similar sight. The people who run outside, who train in their gardens and in parks. In contrast to the ‘fair-weather’ hikers and cyclists - there are individuals who will thrive in both the boiling summer and treacherously ice-y winter. But they will not perform the same in all seasons. We learn how to navigate environments. And we can discern the ‘essential’ parts of what we do. But it takes work, practice and reflection.
Does everyone ‘need’ weathering? No, of course not. We are weathered enough, by many things. We are rubbed the wrong way, bumped around - we learn to navigate our environments. Both physical and social. Hopefully, by the time we reach adulthood we can do with well.
It has been, for many of the people I have worked with over the years - a really important part of our training and rehabilitation. The sterile clinical or gym environment denies us opportunity to observe forests, nature and cities moving. There is an awareness that can be expansive rather than focussed on minutia.
There are tools native to each space: rocks to lift and jump on; logs to carry and balance; branches to hang and climb; steps and walls to step and jump off; water courses to navigate; birds to watch; plants to observe; wildlife and insects to mimic.
Blackberries to eat
So weather training is always possible, to those who want to see what things it can bring. To see what struggles and richness it can bring to your life.
On The Other Things
Now, of course there might be some benefits in terms of regulation of hormones, by spending time outdoors in the early morning light. There might be some impact on our immune system, our gut biota, chronic inflammation levels, psychological wellbeing, creative thinking, stress response and cortisol.
We can always find justification for things.
And there is the lack of bathrooms; the lack of places to wash one’s hands. The requirement to carry things with us. The pressure to dress in accordance to the weather, not to one’s stylistic preferences.
There are solutions that require inefficient training methods, or impractical and clumsy problem solving that could be fixed by the presence of a leg press machine or reverse-hyper machine.
There are geographic, logistical and social detriments.
And there are personal, emotional and psychological preferences that are important considerations.
Regardless, the weather and the world are there for you to experience. No matter how much we may try to avoid it.