Fitness in the UK is… unusual
For years, my trip to the gym included a walk before the workout and another walk afterwards. I’d finish work, walk to a community leisure centre, exercise, then walk to the bus stop. After the bus ride, there was still the walk home. Those steps were part of getting somewhere, rather than a separate activity I had to schedule.
That’s one of the biggest differences I’ve noticed since moving from Canada to England. I love weightlifting, but exercise here also includes all the movement around it. Some of the habits surprised me, and some have proved easier to admire than to join. I registered for parkrun. I never went.
Walking happens between things
Think of the sort of day I might have here. I could walk to the station, take a train, then walk from the other station to a cafe for lunch with a girlfriend. A wander around town and a few errands add more walking before I make the trip home. If I’ve forgotten something for dinner, I can walk to the supermarket and back as well.
That’s movement I haven’t necessarily planned as exercise. In the Canadian places where my friends, family and I have lived, the equivalent day would involve much more driving. I’d drive to the cafe, walk a few steps from the car, have lunch, walk back and drive to the supermarket.
I know living somewhere like Toronto and relying on public transport can be different. I’m talking about the places and people I know, where daily steps need more deliberate effort because you drive to so much. Without a car or a licence, that can feel isolating.
The leisure centre fitted into my life here for years. It had the gym, and I also tried swimming lengths, although that was annoying to fit around the bus journey. I’d shower, or partly shower, then take the bus home and properly shower afterwards. Access to a pool didn’t automatically make swimming the most convenient choice for me.
Winter is difficult in a different way
More than ten years in, I still struggle with England’s damp, dark winters. Sometimes I’m working at my desk and realise I can’t remember the last time I saw the sun. I try to make an effort to get outside on the days when it appears, but the lack of light remains difficult for me.
Canadian winters have their own problems. I grew up with the sort of winter where you could get a huge amount of snow overnight and still have to arrive at work on time. Digging out the car, warming it up, clearing the windows and driving on ice all take time. I don’t miss that part.
What I took for granted was the light. I remember sunshine hitting the snow and making it sparkle, something my sixteen-year-old self didn’t appreciate enough. That doesn’t erase the difficult winter mornings, but it’s a different experience from the dark days I struggle with here in Kent.
I’ve also noticed that rain doesn’t necessarily cancel a planned walk here. People make sure their coat has a hood and carry on. In my experience, people back home are less likely to go out in the rain, although Canadian weather can also reach a point where going outside is a much more serious concern. I grew up hearing frostbite warnings.
The social exercise I haven’t done
I’d never heard of parkrun before moving here. It struck me as a very social activity, and I imagine it could be a good way to meet people. That’s an impression, though. Registering is the extent of my participation, so I can’t tell you what attending was like.
Another surprise was the countryside walk planned to finish at a pub. You might go in for a pint or a full Sunday roast, but the destination is part of the walk. When I was growing up, my parents and I went walking on Saturday and Sunday mornings too. We finished at our house.
Even the word for the activity differs among the people I’ve known. Here, someone can call going up a mountain a walk, while the Canadians I grew up around might call a flat route through a park a hike. The British walk sounds much less serious. It can still take hours.
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