As this piece is published, the stars of the HSBC SVNS circuit will have touched down in Perth days after an electrifying weekend in Singapore. The series, famously, chases the sun — and you can add ‘travel’ to the long list of first-world adversaries facing its athletes.
Heat. Lactic. Dizzyingly high stakes. Snarling opposition. The distinct lack of oxygen, come minute 13. And, as rugby’s great circus circumnavigates the globe — all bulging biceps and ankle-snapping footwork — jet lag.
‘Circadian desynchronisation’, to give it its full name, is destabilising enough for those of us tasked with nothing more than enjoying our holidays, upon arrival in foreign climes.
For those lacing up to hit the rugby pitch it’s a performance-lacerating horror: reducing sleep quality, impairing cognitive function, upsetting digestive processes, hampering physical capacity, and — worst of all — spiking the risk of injury.
It’s a sporting tripwire known inside-out by jet-setting physiotherapist Olivia Withers, whose career has involved stints with outfits from Cardiff and Harlequins to Samoa and back again via GB 7s. She’s a year into her current role with Hong Kong China, encyclopaedic on all things performance, and quick to explain the perils of jet lag.
Firstly, there’s the sedentary nature of flying. “It’s the same as office workers: your glutes are contorted, your hammies are tight, you’ve not stretched out your calves, and your back’s suffered hours of axial loading. All of those structures are at high risk, because they’ve been tightened up, out of position.”
Add to that the neuromuscular hangover from such inactivity, and you’ve players much more likely to twist, overstretch, or jar body parts, particularly in the hyper-dynamic arena of sevens rugby.
Then, there’s the fatigue.
“Just being on a plane wreaks havoc with sleep patterns, before you then actually land in the new country, and need to shift time zone. Energy levels are skewed, which has a knock-on effect on training, gym work, and general movement.”
Prevention, as they say, is often better than cure — and the canniest operators are halfway to beating jet lag before they’ve even had their airport departures porridge pot…
“Long-haul travel throws off your circadian rhythm, so we look to shift those pre-flight, and align them with their destination. Even scooching things by a few hours is invaluable, and reduces the shock to the system.”
It’s common practice to give players a few down days between final training camps and take-off, when they’re provided a sleep plan to help them gradually alter their waking hours, and snatch a headstart on the jolt that is to come.
A GB 7s athlete whose body clock thinks they’re in Sri Lanka as they board the plane to Perth, for example, will adapt much more quickly upon arrival.
Once mid-air, there are further benefits to be had: a doubling down on those rhythm adjustments. As soon as they’re in their seats, athletes change their phone and watch time zones to their destinations’ — and management of their environment becomes crucial.
Many have blue light applications on their devices to prevent over-stimulation, and some even wear sunglasses to keep unwanted daylight off their faces, even if it results in them “looking like they’re hungover!”
Sleep times and durations are prescribed, eating and drinking is done according to their target schedule, and caffeine is a key tool: marshalling bodies and minds. Wherever possible, stress — the nemesis of performance — is kept to an absolute minimum.
Upon landing, the priorities are rhythm and recovery, with no training for the first 24 hours, and only light activity the following 24.
Mobility, rest, and hydration are each essential components. We’ve all seen Los Pumas splashing around in hotel pools, and Aussie players languishing in their natural, beachy habitat, before attention can turn, once more, to the weekend’s tournament.
There’s a sweet spot to be found: the hard work was done back home, so this is about preparing the athletes to compete. Intensity and load aren’t important: getting a ball through the hands, and readying their engines for rugby, is plenty.
In case of any weary routine lapses, things are tightly controlled. Lie-ins are prevented by morning sessions, and — while naps are permitted — team dinners are a handy way of preventing anyone staying in bed for too long during daylight hours.
The sleep aid melatonin — “all-natural: something the body produces anyway” — is handed out with clear instructions, to maximise recovery. And routine is sacred. Sevens athletes might be elite performers, high-functioning adults, but “it does feel a bit like looking after 30 toddlers!”.
Every player’s physical and mental reaction to this disruption is different, and support staff constantly tailor approaches to suit.
Withers explains how many of today’s programmes require team members to complete wellbeing forms each morning, reporting back on sleep, soreness, niggles and general contentment, and that these subjective measures combine with the swathes of information now available via their athletes’ wrists.
Wearables have drastically increased the data at physiotherapists’ fingertips and provide a fascinating glimpse into how their charges are coping with the demands of training, competition, and travel.
She is, however, wary of not taking such data as gospel, and cautions her players to do the same.
Some athletes, after a long-haul flight, would sleep like a dream — only to be told by their watch that they’d had a restless night, and then spend the entire day fretting over their supposedly knackered self.
“You want to be trusting in your own bodily signals and experiences, not feeling overwhelmed by the numbers.
“I’ve seen people get into their own heads because they’re obsessed with what their wearable tells them, and know plenty who’ve done away with such technology for that very reason. It’s a useful adjunct to have, but not the be-all and end-all.”
Circadian rhythm adjusted, carefully-controlled flying conditions, and then meticulous, disciplined habits upon landing: all science-backed, and lovingly administered by those who know these competitors best. And yet, Withers explains, there are some who cheerily dismiss the lot.
“I’ve worked with athletes who just don’t believe in it. Players who go ‘it makes no difference to me. I’m going to just get on the plane, and not change a jot. I sleep when I want to sleep, and wake up when I wake up…’ They literally do their own thing,” she laughs, “and some of them go on to make that weekend’s Dream Team.
“It’s crazy! You’re left with all this hard work and research, and they just breeze through the whole experience: no problem.”
Each to their own: a fitting end to a conversation about a competition boasting 11 nations, nine far-flung locations, and the usual generous dollop — whatever the time of day — of drama.