Slow Movement in January: Gentle Yoga and Walking for Winter Wellbeing
Why movement feels different in January
I’ve never been comfortable with January being a fresh start for me.
There’s often an expectation that this is the moment to improve yourself, do more, be active, start something new, and feel motivated. For me, most years that expectation has come with a lot of guilt about getting back on track too. I’ve written more before about why January doesn’t naturally support big resets or fresh starts, and why that pressure can feel so uncomfortable in my previous blog Why January Isn’t the Best Time for New Year’s Resolutions.
What I’ve come to learn is that this simply isn’t how January shows up in my body.
It’s dark, it’s cold, and everything feels a bit harder. Mornings take longer to get going. My energy and motivation are low. For a long time, I told myself this was something I needed to fix.
These days, I’m learning to read that slower pace differently. Not as a problem to solve, but as information worth paying attention to.
I’ve often made movement a New Year’s resolution, particularly if I’d been less active towards the end of the year. Over time, I’ve realised that January is the wrong time for me to embark on a new fitness regime. It simply doesn’t work for me.
When I set high expectations early on, it quickly reinforces the feeling that I’m behind.
For me, January doesn’t need intensity. It needs gentleness. Beginning again with slow, gentle movement is enough for now.
Returning to my yoga mat
I restarted my weekly yoga class recently after missing it in November and December due to work commitments.
In the past, I would usually try to squeeze everything in. I’d push myself to keep going, even when my diary was already full, because stopping felt like something I’d struggle to come back from.
This time, I couldn’t do that. I needed to pause. And allowing myself to do that, trusting I could restart in January, turned out to be a quiet turning point for me.
Coming back now, I wasn’t returning with goals or intentions. I wasn’t trying to fix anything. I just wanted to return to the mat and move again and notice how my body felt.
At this time of year, yoga feels right for its slow, steady pace. I’ve sometimes been tempted by Pilates, but I always come back to the meditation and reflective elements of yoga.
It’s less about effort and more about awareness. One class a week feels manageable at the moment. It keeps me connected to my body without asking too much of me.
I know I’ll naturally want to do more as the year unfolds. Spring and summer feel like the right time to increase movement again, and park yoga often starts locally in May, which feels like a natural next step when my energy returns.
Right now, yoga feels less like getting back into something, and more like staying connected to myself while I’m still wintering. That small shift has given me a quiet confidence in my own understanding of self-care.
Walking as gentle, everyday movement
Walking has always been something I return to, especially in winter. It’s accessible, low pressure, and easy to fit into an ordinary day.
What’s changed is how I think about it.
I used to feel that if I was going to walk, it needed to be purposeful or frequent. Now, I’m letting it be smaller. A short walk at lunchtime to step away from my desk. A gentle loop just to get some air and light. No targets or step counters involved.
Little and often feels far more supportive than trying to stick to a rigid routine I can’t keep up with. That can come later, when my energy builds and the days get longer. For now, I’m giving myself permission to keep it simple.
There’s also a part of me that knows walking can be something deeper. During the pandemic, I used to Nordic walk regularly and found it incredibly grounding. I loved being out in nature, moving rhythmically, letting the day unfold around me, often spending whole mornings or afternoons in the local forest.
I’ve done less of that since. Without the neighbours I used to go with, and knowing I’m not the most confident navigator, heading off alone into the forest can feel intimidating. And if I’m honest, I don’t have the same expanse of time I once did.
Rather than pushing myself to walk more, I’m simply noticing that.
That idea is still there, quietly waiting. Spring, with lighter evenings and more daylight, feels like a kinder time to revisit it.
Listening before increasing
One of the biggest shifts for me has been learning to listen before asking more of myself.
In January, I’m paying attention to:
what kind of movement feels supportive rather than draining
how my body feels afterwards
what feels realistic on an ordinary week
Instead of asking what I should be doing by now, I’m finding myself asking:
What feels manageable right now?
What kind of movement would help me feel steadier, rather than more tired?
Those questions soften the pressure. They make space for movement to grow naturally, instead of forcing it.
Letting January prepare the ground
I’ve noticed that my desire to do more tends to arrive later. As the days lengthen. As the light returns. As energy lifts without being pushed.
Spring has become a gentler moment for reassessing what I want to build towards. January, for me, is about preparation rather than performance.
Right now, slow movement feels right. A weekly yoga class. Occasional walks. Letting that be enough.
A short walk still counts. A gentle stretch still counts. Listening still counts.
That feels like a kinder way to begin the year.
Sarah is the founder of Mindful & Me, a reflective wellbeing space for women in midlife, sharing gentle, practical support around perimenopause, seasonal living, and slowing down, often inspired by real life.
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