Sisyphean exercise and keeping fit in lockdown | Jack Marshall's column

Such is their alien capacity for self-motivation despite being faced with an open-ended global pandemic which has disrupted just about every single aspect of humanity, these toned few have powered on regardless in a haze of home workout sweat, protein shakes, and self-satisfaction.

Do not trust these people.

Such sentiments come from a place of jealousy, obviously. Instead of using any free time to get in shape by working out more and planning healthy meals, a thick fug of apathy and carb-cravings has descended in lockdown for yours truly.

The gyms all shut, so forcing yourself to physically go and look the free weights and the treadmills and the watt bikes face-to-face is no longer an option. Jogging in parks was okay for a time, but then the weather turned. High-intensity circuit sessions in the spare room only lasted about a week.

In fact, my own workout regime has come off the rails so spectacularly that my leg muscles must genuinely think their owner has taken to sleeping for 20 hours a day interspersed with periods of that most gruelling of workouts: sitting. There will be tendons and ligaments which the human frame requires for running which I may have to grow back entirely when all of this is over.

On top of that, all the little snippets of exercise we get have slowly eked away, too.

Journalism is already a pretty sedentary job, but add into the sugary cake mix of physical despair a dash of no longer needing to walk to the train station to commute into the office, a sprinkle of absent good habits like drinking plenty of water, and a dollop of lockdown snacking, and you quite literally have a recipe for disaster. Bake at 180°C for two hours (the maximum amount of time I can currently go without perusing the fridge) and enjoy with a side of laziness.

With exercise, there’s no time like the future. Lockdown has been a mirage of picturing just how fit and healthy I’m going to get when gyms open again, when swimming pools don’t feel dangerous anymore, and when a semblance of normality allows for mundane things like getting your five-a-day and meal prep.

Things which are typically huge workout turn-offs like aches and pains and cramps and stitches suddenly become aspects to look forward to as part of some idealised ‘no-pain, no-gain’ world of constant improvement and rewardingly warm muscle soreness. And, even though this utopia of abs will almost certainly crumble when it meets reality, one can still dream.

Easier dreamt than done, after all.