Christmas is a funny time of year for a Test cricketer.

If you're not in the middle of a series, you are watching what you eat and drink for fear of getting out of shape. If you are in the middle of a series, you're probably preparing for a Boxing Day Test, a staple of the calendar.

The manic nature of the schedule means the months blend into one.

I spent pretty much eight years in this cycle between March 2010 and November 2017. You lose track of days of the week, months of the year and seasons in general because you are constantly chasing the sun.

In those eight years I spent three Christmases away from home and the other years arriving back into the country in the days preceding Christmas Day.

When all your friends are tucking into turkey in the British winter, you find yourself in the sunshine, assessing the hotel buffet and casting half an eye on the opposition.

It is a weird juxtaposition between wanting to eat everything in sight and ending up in a stupor in front of a fire, and making sure you're both physically and mentally ready to play a Test the next day.

Basically, it doesn't feel like Christmas. It is the day before a Test.

I've had mixed experiences of touring over Christmas. The lowest was after practice in Australia on Christmas Day 2010.

All pre-match prep was done and everyone was excited about the Boxing Day Test at the Melbourne Cricket Ground the following day.

Training is in the morning so you can enjoy the afternoon and there are always Santa hats knocking around to be worn instead of a training cap.

I knew I was slightly vulnerable to being left out. We'd lost the third Test heavily in Perth and the series was level at 1-1. When a batting unit gets rolled for a few low scores, it is a bowler that usually makes way.

I hadn't bowled well in Perth, but retained hope the management would stick with me for Boxing Day. It would have been a dream come true.

After practice, I saw captain Andrew Strauss walking towards me with a serious face on. He said: "Can I have a word with you in the bathroom?"

I knew the writing was on the wall. This isn't an unusual occurrence when being dropped. A captain will want to deliver the news in a quiet place, away from the team to have a degree of compassion and, just in case a player wants to kick off, to mitigate the impact of anyone else hearing it.

The tears were barely out of my eyes before Strauss was off to deliver the good news to Tim Bresnan, who replaced me (excellently, I might add).

I hid in a cubicle and made sure the tears had subsided before going to face my team-mates. They could all still see how red my eyes were. Merry Christmas.

What made it even worse was that my partner at the time, mum and sister had flown all the way to Melbourne to watch me play a Boxing Day Test. I felt like a huge letdown and that I had wasted their time. Despite going on three Ashes tours, I never played a Boxing Day Test. A career low point.

Part of the Christmas routine was going to the lunch England had arranged at a hotel. I had to look as though I was enjoying watching Father Christmas giving gifts to the children of some of the players and the wife of one of the staff slurping back oysters. I hate the sound of people eating.

All I wanted was to be alone in my room, beating myself up for not being good enough to hold down a place in the team. It was one of two times my mum and sister travelled abroad to watch me play for England. Both times I didn't make the XI.

My best Christmas on tour was in South Africa in 2015. The Boxing Day Test was the opening match of the series and it was going to be highly competitive. South Africa were still packed with big guns and we had just won the Ashes the previous summer.

I'd had a few months out with a stress fracture to the ball of my foot and it felt like a Christmas present when I proved myself fit enough to join the squad in Durban.

In contrast to that Australia tour five years earlier, I knew if I was fit I was going to play. It's what I loved about the time England were coached by Trevor Bayliss. I felt as though he really believed in me and trusted me to be myself as a bowler. Even though I had an idea I would be playing, it was still a lovely feeling when the captain gave the nod, as Alastair Cook did that Christmas Day.

There was no bursting into tears in the toilets, just a calm, enjoyable Christmas on the seafront in Durban. It didn't really feel like Christmas because it was hot and I was contemplating how I was going to bowl to Hashim Amla, AB de Villiers and the rest the following day. I was far more content, even if I did have the prospect of facing Dale Steyn in my unenviable role as nightwatchman, which would ruin anyone's peaceful Christmas.

I had no family travelling with me and I enjoyed Christmas lunch with the other guys who were in the same boat, then slid off to my room to relax, before hopefully watching us win the toss and bowling first on a spicy looking pitch. Now, that's a real Christmas present.

We actually lost the toss, but won the Test by 241 runs. I got one of my favourite wickets in my career, a lifter to Faf Du Plessis on the fourth evening, just as he was providing significant rearguard. It felt like a degree of redemption for my previous Christmas letdowns.

Christmas on tour really does become like another Test week. I would always feel for the guys with families having to navigate this time of year. Balancing life between being a father, a husband, an international cricketer and Father Christmas must be tough.

Having family there does provide a degree of balance, which can be a great escape when you're on a long tour. But explaining to a four-year-old why it's not snowing and how Santa knows you're not going to be at home is something I'd always leave to the guys with children.

As I settle down on this festive period, ready to eat my body weight in whatever is laid in front of me, I'll be thinking of all the cricketers out there preparing to play a game the next day.

The nerves, excitement and disappointments are all part of being a sportsperson. It just so happens it is Christmas Day, too.