How Healthy Is The Gym Post-Lockdown?
Walking into the gym I feel on edge. My one-time sanctuary no longer provides the same solace as before. I immediately sanitise my hands on entry, lock my belongings in the locker and take my usual water bottle and gym towel to the gym floor, only now I also have spare hand sanitiser. I know the gym provides it, but having my own provides me with a small feeling of extra safety.
I start with 10 minutes on the rowing machine, ensuring I wipe it down before use. I focus mainly on the touch points: the handles, the monitor, and the foot straps. The rowers are spaced out, so anyone using one next to me would be 2 metres away, but they still feel too close. Thankfully no one comes to join me. I’d normally head over to the ‘big boy weights’ section to do compound lifts, but since this was my first session back I thought I should work my way up, so instead I find a bench and a couple of dumbbells. Once again, wiping down the bench, any potential touch points, and the dumbbells. Once I finish, I do the same again. Wipe and sanitise. Wipe and sanitise.
I’ve been a regular gym goer for around 5 years, but I’ve probably only really fallen in love with weight training over the last 3 years. I’ve tried many forms of exercise over the years and never really understood it when people spoke about post-exercise endorphins. Then I completed my first compound lift and got my first taste of lifting heavy - and there it was: the high I had heard about but cynically never believed in. From then, chasing those personal bests became my crutch. When all else was failing or life felt out of control, I knew I could go to the gym. Not only could I feel strong physically, but mentally too. Strength training takes focus; you have to move your muscles in a particular way and order to get the most out of the big lifts. Studies have shown that weight training does not just have physical benefits but can also help to significantly reduce your risk of developing neuro-degenerative conditions which affect Alzheimer’s.
On the 23 March Boris Johnson put the UK into lockdown. Pubs, restaurants, offices, non-essential shops, non-essential everything, closed. This included gyms. For the first time in 5 years I didn’t have a gym membership (well, I did, but couldn’t use it). For the first time in 3 years, my go-to stress relief wasn’t available for use. I struggled through home workouts. Zoom HIIT classes are not my thing. I was grateful for the YouTube dance classes - in that no one could see my terrible coordination and lack of rhythm. I did enjoy the kickboxing videos and home yoga, although I was still thankful that no one could see how awful I was. And, as fitness professionals moved their offerings online, I kept signing up to help out. I was in the privileged position of still having a full salary without the commuter costs, gym membership, or social life to pay for. So, I paid for lunch hour zoom classes which I often watched while sitting on my sofa, eating.
The UK government kindly allowed us outside to exercise once a day. I know a lot of people used it to run. But after 3 half marathons, countless 10ks and hours and hours of running training in preparation for those events, I had already decided running wasn’t for me. I hate it. I wasn’t wasting my one trip outside every day by doing something I hated. So, I walked for an hour after work every day. The fresh air, vitamin D, and steps helped clear my mind and kept me somewhat active.
Slowly things started to re-open, after weeks in lockdown. As restrictions eased it was soon announced that pubs would open. If you wanted to, you could go and sit inside a pub with your mates and get drunk. Probably forget about the whole pandemic thing and start hugging people. But gyms were still closed. It would take until 25 July for Boris to decide it was safe to exercise indoors in a gym environment. An environment where everyone will be sober. Disciplined. Where you can clean everything you need before you touch it, and then clean it again before you return it. Where you can space out so as not to be near other gym-goers. The place in which movement is encouraged. Movement which can help to prevent heart disease, strokes, and some cancers. Movement which can help boost sleep and energy levels. A place which many use to keep their mental health in check. A place which was deemed less important and less safe to bring back than pubs.
I completely understand the need to kick start the economy and to do it in a way that doesn’t pose the potential risk of another corona virus spike. To make changes too quickly would run the risk of too much being done too soon, and any one of these things could be the first ripple of the expected second wave. But I do believe we need to prioritise the health of our nation and facilitate the ability to exercise in a safe, well maintained, covid-secure environment.
That being said, the first time walking into the gym after 4 months of failed home workouts was scary. Although I made sure to go at a time where I knew there would be very few other people in there, it was the first time since March I’d been around anyone that wasn’t a friend or my boyfriend. Suddenly I was around strangers, and I didn’t know where they’d been. How seriously were they taking the pandemic? Did they think it was all a big hoax? Or were they diligently at home following the rules the whole time? There was no way of knowing, and that felt frightening to me. But, as it always does, strength training helped me feel in control. This experience was no exception. I was in control of how clean the equipment I used was. I knew the dumbbell I was using was clean, because I had cleaned it.
I’ve been back a few times now and already feel the benefits of exercise on my mental health. While I’m still not ready to completely go back to normal life, I’ve weighed up the options. I’d rather not sit in a pub or restaurant, because I know the joy of eating out will be marred by the anxiety of corona virus. I can still order online and eat restaurant food in the safety of my flat. But the benefits of lifting weights and my old gym routine, both physical and mental, far outweigh any potential risks for me. But that’s just my opinion and my priorities. I think we should only do what we’re comfortable with. Do your own risk assessment and decide which aspect of normal life you miss most, and work out what you feel most safe doing. In the meantime, if you need me, I’ll be exercising for my mental clarity - while preventing heart disease and some cancers - with a barbell in my local gym.
Written by Gemma Greig
I’m Gemma, an aspiring PT, photographer and writer by night and editor by day. When I’m not lifting heavy things in the gym, I’ve got my head in the books studying, or making yet another attempt to write that elusive novel. I’m originally from Scotland, but I’ve been living in England for over 8 years.