Feeling alive outside

My daughter has decided to venture deep into the uncharted wilds of the Irish countryside (aka Wicklow) to take part in a kids’ camp where they spend their days doing mad things like mud runs and obstacle courses.

I thought it would be lovely to stay put in the wilds myself and get on with my own life, which I can apparently live quite happily through a laptop. When I had this brainwave I thought I would be lounging around the acreage of a stately home, a balmy warm breeze in my hair, hobnobbing with Lord Such n’ Such. But in fact, I have been confined alone to a restored stable, which happens to be the only source of free wifi.

As I stare out at the drizzle, with a crow perched beside me for company, I realize it ain’t half bad.

The camp my daughter is attending, while knee deep in mud, has a clever name like Alive Outside or the Recreation Matrix or Camp Outdoorsy or the like. I am beginning to think they are onto something – do you feel more alive when you are outside?

Perhaps you don’t have to engage in archery or bushcraft survival skills with a bunch of 10-year-olds to feel spry.

For starters, a simple walk outdoors can improve your breathing. People fear pollen counts and allergies but, according to one study, indoor pollutants can be two to five times higher than outdoor concentrations. There’s the cardiovascular benefits, the mindfulness, not to mention the elusive vitamin D.

I’m not advocating sun-bathing, it’s not a good look for Irish skin (not to mention the risk of skin cancer), but if you take part in an activity outside, the exposure to sunlight can have a positive impact on your circadian rhythm. Everyone sleeps better after an impromptu kick about by the sea.

For centuries parks have been the domain of the older generation (and the younger one). The middle generation have a tendency to climb into tin can cars and drive to gyms, where they pump iron or jump up and down in a square room – until their membership expires, or the temptation of drink/food/indifference gets to them.

However, parks and green spaces have proven to be a lasting motivator for continuity of exercise. A park walker (or runner) has no monthly bill, they can bring whoever they want, talk as loud as they like, and go as fast or slow as they please. Most importantly, they don’t have to wipe down the park after use.

Being outside is as flexible as it gets, you don’t have to ski down a mountain or swim in a lake (although you could). Any activity that gets you moving is a win, such as gardening, dog-walking, even washing your car is a workout for some.

An obvious benefit is the boost nature can give to your immune system. Children who frequently play outdoors are exposed to more microorganisms than kids who stay indoors, bolstering the outdoor child’s immune system. Given the mud-drenched appearance of my child at camp pick-up I can only assume she is now bullet proof from disease.

It’s remarkable to think, but according to studies even having one plant in a room, or a picture of a landscape on the wall can reduce anxiety, anger and stress – maybe they should start putting a line of geraniums alongside queues in airports.

Being outside in general is reported to improve your self-esteem, with a particular boost if you are near water or a green space. When people in offices say they need to get out for air, it’s not just for a quick smoke (well, it might be) but studies show that getting out for air can nudge your brain into a new thought pattern.

For me, watching this rain is a medicine in itself. There are no intrusive fake stimuli, it’s just nature doing what it does, providing a mental and emotional refuge. I went for a walk earlier in the rain, amid the trees, it was restorative, I felt protected.

Maybe next time I’ll steal one of the kayaks and head out for a contemplative spin or maybe I’ll hike up the Sugar Loaf mountain that keeps winking at me, or perhaps I’ll just sit with my buddy the crow, and count the raindrops.

As the drizzle continues its gentle serenade, the initial disappointment of my stable-bound existence has softened into a quiet appreciation.

Feeling truly alive doesn’t always require grand adventures, but can be found in the fresh air, the green spaces, and the quiet companionship of a crow in the Irish rain.