Mayor’s Column: Cr Stephanie Asher from the City of Greater Geelong, June 11

AS COMMUNITY and sports clubs resume their action, I’ve found sporting analogies keep springing to mind when considering the impact of the pandemic.
I recently learned a lycra lesson through the gospel of Twitter, reading about the “false flat” experienced in cycling. It’s a neat metaphor for the pain many are feeling about now.
The false flat describes the view ahead that looks comfortingly like a relatively easy stretch of road with no hills or major impediments. Atop a bicycle, the brain perceives less effort to be required and perhaps even sends a silent little dopamine shout for joy that a bit of easy cruising is on offer.
Alas, the “flat” is actually a slight climb and those cruising legs start to burn a little and the heart rate heads up not down. After a few kilometres of what was supposed to be easily achievable – much like the luxury of not having to travel to work or push through the daily grind of the office, site, stage or classroom – it becomes apparent that it was actually increasingly difficult although the challenges were not visible.
We feel wrecked as a result, a little unsure why we feel that way and perhaps even subliminally inadequate as it was supposed to be easy. Added to which, unlike an overt hill climb, there is no downhill reward at the end of the effort.
Even for those who have not been directly impacted by the restricted activity during the lockdown, the low-grade residual stress enveloping the world has an insidious effect. We are all slowly becoming tired, we are all affected by the uncertain future, we are all quite literally having a nervous response.
That is natural, that is human.
Our culture wants to normalise everything, we want reassurance that we all fit in, that we sit cosily inside the bell curve with our peers. But right now we can’t describe anything as normal. This is all new. The term “new normal” is already grating through overuse.
Cliché fatigue is kicking in.
Another response to the lockdown conditions that I’ve noticed reminds me of a water polo expression. With a husband involved at state and national level and a brother-in-law who played in the Barcelona and Seoul Olympics, I spent many years spectating and learning about water polo from people with names like Dogbreath, Jughead, Germ, Sticksy and Bustar.
One of the more useful insights was the expression “dropping your legs”. In polo terms, this means losing your form and focus and becoming weak and vulnerable in the water. Strength and advantage is to have your hips up and legs out behind you. Drop them and, among other things, you start to sink.
I’ve seen some legs start to drop with the remote learning during the past few weeks. Eight weeks into lockdown and some students appeared to reach a point of near exhaustion.
Whether it directly followed the announcement of a return to the classroom or not is debatable, but I suspect the timing was no coincidence. It made me appreciate more keenly the silent effort so many are making and how necessary it is to have an endpoint in sight.
Remaining motivated, organised and focused with the constant distraction of home activity, the absence of social energy from other students and a relative lack of structure without a physical classroom, has been a remarkable achievement from our students – and our teachers.
It’s more than two months of almost no social contact for Victorian students and I take my hat off to all of them for continuing their study in virtual isolation with an open-ended return date. This is an experience that will serve them
for life.
So for anyone feeling the effects of slow burn please be assured you are not alone. Look up, look around and reach out if you need help.
I’m confident that there are opportunities for a new approach if we keep ourselves and our communities strong and supported. We really are in this together – cliché or not.

Cr Stephanie Asher
Mayor, City of Greater Geelong