From all of us at Fit is a Feminist Issue, Happy Mother’s Day! For lots of us, today is a day for celebrating, honoring, remembering and being with our mothers. My mother is far away, and I plan on celebrating and having fun with her for her birthday in June, so we’ll be making do with a social phone call later. I’m having lunch with a friend and her mother. And I’m taking a walk to enjoy and photograph the explosion of color in the flowers and trees, sending those photos to my mom, who loves spring color as much as I do. Here are a few glimpses from around my neighborhood earlier this week.
Yellow and orange and white tulips, waiting by the steps.hardy daffodils and yellow and purple flowers.A yellow tulip with fringy purple flower friends.A luscious display of magenta tulips.
One of my favorite Mother’s Days involved some mothers, but not my own. In May of 2008, I won a mountain bike race! Full disclosure: I was in the beginner women’s category, and there were three entrants:
me
my teammate Julie Lockhart, who was then at least 25 years older than me and not an experienced mountain biker
some woman whose husband– a MTB racer–gave her a mountain bike and entered her in the race that morning (I think the tag was still on the bike at the start line)
This race was at the Brialee RV and Tent Park in Connecticut. The route was a typical New England one, with roots and rocks, twists and turns on narrow single track, with steep but short ups and downs.
I was advised to get the hole shot– first in the group– if possible. I did, and pedaled as hard as I could to put some distance between me and the other two competitors. It was tough, but fun.
I finished in first place. Hey, a win is a win, okay?
Talking with the other women as we posed on our podium (yes, there was room for all three of us), I found out that the new-bike-for-Mother’s-Day-woman gave up on riding quite quickly and just ran with her bike the whole way. She was a trail runner, and finished only eight minutes after me.
This woman’s story reminds me of what I love about mothers. They join their loved ones in activities for which they might or might not be prepared, they accept whatever gifts are offered in the spirit in which they are given, and then they just flat-out make it work.
Happy Mother’s day to all of you out there who join in with us, lovingly accept our well-intentioned gifts and make it work.
Mother’s Day race finish line. Hope they’re going out to brunch later…
Wow, I’d forgotten that body parts, other than knees, could hurt. It’s been awhile.
I’m back at personal training and I’m walking lots, and I’m riding my bike outside. Everything is going well except in my newfound pain free state, I discovered that I’m now strong enough and mobile enough to hurt other parts of my body. Lol.
Last week, I rode my bike and went to physio and then personal training and then hopped on a plane. So, there was lots of physical work and then sitting. I flew to an event, the Canadian High School Ethics Bowl, and there was more sitting. By the end of it all, my back was pretty stiff and painful.
Above Sam and a friend’s dog, on a lunch time walk at the Ethics Bowl. Below, the Museum of Human Rights where the event was held.
Luckily, I have regularly scheduled physio appointments, so after Monday back at work where I rediscovered my standing desk, Estee helped me out my back to rights. More stretching! Yay!
It’s not serious and I’m not stressed. But it was a bit of a reminder that as my knees get better, I might have to pay attention to other body parts too. Mostly for my back, it means stretching and moving between sitting and standing and getting some walks in during the day. All good.
Oh, also, my mother and I often joke that we have all the same injuries and issues. This week she also hurt her back gardening. So we’re stretching together. Happy Mothers Day!
🎧 I just read on my friend Todd’s social media that Lael Wilcox is about to try to beat Jenny Graham’s world record for cycling around the world (124 days / 11 hours) and is doing a podcast at the same time.
“This summer, I’m riding around the world to try and break the women’s Guinness World Record (currently held by Jenny Graham at 124 days). I have to ride a minimum of 18,000 miles (29,000km). The route isn’t set and that’s part of the fun! I asked Bea & Luca, expert route builders and race organizers, to design my track through Europe. In this episode, we go over the rules and talk about the route. I don’t love planning, but every time I look at a map, I’m filled with excitement for the big ride! I’m starting on May 26 in Chicago and I’ll be publishing an episode every day– 10-20 minutes to share stories from the road. “
“The findings showed that Gen Z were the most sociable cyclists, too. They were the most likely to seek company on bike rides, and it was mainly them that contributed to an 11% increase in the number of new online communities, and virtual ‘cycling clubs’.
See, as a young, plus-sized woman who cycles mainly for pleasure, I’ve never felt like I belonged on cycle lanes. I felt too young, too fat, too poor.
I felt that I had to have permission to belong – be a certain age, or level of fitness. That I had to be ‘training’ for something, have the right gear, or take cycling seriously as a sport – not merely as an escape, a means to an end, or to get to work.
Even former Olympic and World Champion, Chris Boardman MBE told Cycling Weekly that he’d been “battered by the cycling community for wearing normal clothes on a bike”.
It’s gatekeeping of the highest, most gross order.
So, I couldn’t be more elated, or more refreshed, to hear that Gen Z-ers are simply shrugging their shoulders at stereotypes, and getting on their bikes instead – complete with their friends right alongside them.
They’re choosing an activity that they enjoy, and that makes them feel good – all while saving money, the planet and being sociable.
Cycling aligns with their values because they’ve created an inspiring, eco-conscious community (both online, and IRL) that they believe in, and feel represented by. They’ve managed to embody everything that makes cycling great – and it’s what it should be. “
📺 And a shameless personal plug here on what to watch this weekend. I’m recommending you check out Sew Fierce. It’s a Canadian reality show, a drag design competition, in which eight clothing designers compete to make the best drag outfits. Season Two is just out on OUT-TV but you can watch the first episode on YouTube. My middle kid’s partner is Calypso Cosmic, one of the eight top drag designers on Season Two of the show. Go check out their fabulous creations!
Sew Fierce, Season Two
You can also watch Calypso live and in person, with other performers, at The Well in Hamilton this weekend.
I’m writing this on the heels of losing a dear friend. It is hard to think about how the world will look without her joy, her laughter, and her indomitable spirit. She was the friend you called for an adventure or for a hug. A weekday breakfast meetup or a trip to Scotland to buy yarn – she was up for it.
Our friendship was formed inside and alongside a community of knitter friends. The community has added and subtracted members as the years roll by, but/and the foundation has remained the same. Friendship. Love. Support. Celebration. Commiseration. Caretaking. Adventures. And a whole lotta yarn.
I know these are crocheted flowers, not knitted, but they are blue and too pretty. Photo by Anya Chernik on Unsplash
As we have gathered together this week to be with one another in community I am so aware of how my different communities support me. They steady me when I wobble and they celebrate me when I triumph.
I am fortunate to have a few communities that I hold dear. As our little knitting community is rocked by this loss, friends in our respective other communities have joined to steady us. Support. Caretaking. Commiseration. Friendship. Love.
When I think about how deeply ingrained these communities are in my life I often think back to graduate courses on feminist theory and feminist collectives. While there are many ways to define feminism one important way for me is “in community.” When one rises we all rise. When one falters those who can will hold steady.
This is a time of faltering and holding steady. Faltering without my friend while others hold me steady. Using their strength to support others in our community as we all work through individual and collective grief. Those who know me best know that when I am quiet, tucked inward, I am faltering. They know when I say I am “hanging in there” that I am doing anything but. They steady. They hug. They listen.
I hope this post comes across as a celebration of communities; mine, yours, ours. I hope your communities are holding you up, comforting you, singing your praises, or whatever else you need at this moment. If you are reading this and struggling to identify your community please know that FIFI is a community that you are already a member of here on this page. And I hope it goes without saying to hold your people so close because the world out there is shaky and you may just be what is holding them up.
In community.
Amy Smith is a professor of Media & Communication and a communication consultant who lives north of Boston. Her research interests include gender communication and community building. Amy spends her movement time riding the basement bicycle to nowhere, walking her two dogs, and waiting for it to get warm enough for outdoor swimming in New England.
In a few days, I will be on vacation to use up accumulated leave before my official retirement date at the end of July. It is time.
A balloon bouquet from my work team.
I thought the changes of adolescence and early adulthood were huge, but somehow I don’t remember them being as profound as what I’m going through right now. Is it because we’re just too young to recognize how big those changes are? Or too excited? Or too resilient?
Maybe it’s because we have changes happening in the rest of the family too. My role as a daughter has been shifting as I take on more responsibilities to support my parents. Nothing too serious yet, but I am doing the gardening, washing windows and filing taxes and medical claims. at the same time, my kids are moving into new phases of their lives; nothing absolutely confirmed yet, but I anticipate being an empty-nester soon.
I don’t have any big fancy plans – next week I’ll drive up to my cottage property to retrieve a tent for my daughter. There will undoubtedly be a group bike ride, and an extra swim practice.
I’m looking forward to the luxury of picking daytime dance classes for the summer. And going to swim at the Pond, which has very limited hours, any weekday morning instead of hoping the weather is nice on the weekend. And doing a deep clean of some part of my house (closets? All the windows? TBD).
And I want to read – just sit back and dig through a large stack of unread magazines and books. I’m really curious to see how much simply relaxing will affect my sore shoulder and neck. They are already feeling better than they have in months.
I ran three days in a row for the first time in I-don’t-know-how-many-years. Not even three short runs. The first two alone, 7 miles, then 8 miles, felt solid and shocking. One day. Two days. And … I felt good. I rinsed and repeated because I couldn’t believe it was true. The third day was giving into the temptation to see how far this feeling good could really go. Another 8 miles, it turned out.
On that third day, I was so surprised to be running, that I started playing. I ran short stretches backwards, because I once heard that helps to balance the muscles and stretch the legs and I figured my legs, which might be in as much shock as my mind, could use the variation. Each time I turned forward again, my legs felt momentarily tired and disoriented. Then I’d catch my groove again. I threw in a few sections of running faster. Not exactly speedwork, more just seeing what the engine could take. Most of the run was on a long causeway that juts out into Lake Champlain. The dirt path was flat and gently curved. So, it was easy to designate far ahead trees as my destination for each of these backwards and forwards interludes.
When I finished that third run, I felt good. Like there was still a little gas in the tank.
For the last many years (at least 5, possibly 10), there’s always been some objection from my body to running even two days in a row. A tweaky toe. A hampered hamstring. A pesky plantar. And then last year, it was the increasingly extreme fatigue of what was eventually diagnosed as Addison’s Disease. I’m now on daily (multiple times a day) medication, which, along with a low potassium diet, has returned me to health.
And I wonder …
When I got back from that third run, the friend I was staying with commented on my level of fitness, expressing her frustration that she couldn’t run those distances days in a row anymore. A good and healthy response might have been to just say, Thank you. Instead, I started by attributing the runs to luck (maybe it was total eclipse energy) and to the incredibly restorative Normatec leg massage device she has, that I used after each of the runs.
Then I got to the heart of my hesitation to receive her compliment. Maybe I could run three days in a row only because of my medication. I’m not talking about the fact that without my medication I would not be here, because my potassium would have spiked to a fatal level, as it almost did last year when I spent 3 days in an emergency room. Certainly, the fact that my medication keeps me alive allows me to run and do pretty much everything else that’s involved in this business of living. Still, that’s not the heart of my hesitation. It’s that one of my medications is hydrocortisone, which is used to treat adrenocortical deficiency (that’s me), and swelling and inflammation and/or replaces the cortisol hormone that helps your body respond to stress. In other words, maybe if I weren’t taking this steroid, I would not have the energy to do those runs (because my body couldn’t handle the stress), not to mention the anti-inflammatory benefits.
Pill bottle spilling out multi-colour pills, by towfiqu barbhuiya on unsplash
In other, other words, maybe my fitness level is fake. My ability to recover from the runs is rigged, because I’m taking a performance enhancing medication. I’m a Running Ripley (I just started watching Andrew Scott’s formidable performance in this role). I can’t take any credit for the myriad ways in which I work to maintain my fitness level (my foray into Chi running), because none of my effort has real impact, it’s just the drugs. I should just feel lucky and leave it at that. (Recently, a friend pointed out that we need to stop shoulding on others … and ourselves). So, to re-frame, I want to just feel lucky and I’m not quite there.
I am indeed ultra-grateful for all my body does for me. And, I notice there’s a part of me that wants to take credit, to point to this or that training, or eating, or sleep habit. I want my fitness to be the appropriate reward for the Protestant work ethic I grew up with (in a Jewish household). I want to be grateful and feel like I have some control over what my body can do. The conundrum is that the Addison’s took away that feeling of control and the medication gave me back a feeling of control, which I now question.
This is the psychological wrestling match going on between different parts of myself.
At the moment, there’s nothing to change. I can’t stop taking my medication.
The bottom line is likely the same as it always is: Be grateful. Every day.
When I started with the London Cycling Club this year, I noticed that the app info about the rider development group rides said “No dropping allowed!” Not knowing a lot of cycle-speak yet, it sounded like a warning that I wasn’t allowed to drop out of the group ride. I had to finish with the group, even if I was slow or dead tired.
No dropping allowed!
But it turns out that “no drop” is not about the responsibility of the rider to keep up: it’s about the responsibility of the riders in the group to support each other.
No-drop ride: This means the group stops for mechanical problems, flats, nature breaks, accidents and emergencies. Members of the group will drop back to ride with slower riders.
When a ride is described as “no drop,” the expectations are clear: riders will not be left alone if they are slow or have a problem, and everyone takes some responsibility to support other riders. It promotes inclusion for different levels and abilities. One could even see no drop riding as a sort of team sport, in which riders share a goal to finish together through group effort.
Do the no drop riders get bored or annoyed when they can only going as fast as the slowest rider? I’ve tried to manage this negative self-talk by assuming that some riders, like Sam, see the fun of riding at all different speeds.
I am grateful for a cycling club that has patient volunteers committed to providing no drop, mixed gender development group rides. This year I am slow, and I do not have a road bike, so it feels incredibly supportive to have people willing to ride with me: at a sometimes uneven pace and at a distance I can manage in my first year of the sport.
I have not yet experienced a “drop” ride, but I wonder what it’s like and how I will feel in the group as I ride.
What is your experience with the different types of rides, FIFI community? When does the group make you feel like a team?
“May is National Bike Month, promoted by the League of American Bicyclists and celebrated in communities from coast to coast. Established in 1956, National Bike Month is a chance to showcase the many benefits of bicycling — and encourage more folks to giving biking a try.
In 2024, we’ll be celebrating all the ways people bike during National Bike Month.“
But in Canada, it seems we celebrate bike month in June.
“Bike Month is an opportunity for people to try riding a bike for the first time, learn new skills, or simply have fun and connect with new people. It’s taking the time to rekindle the youthful magic of exploring your neighbourhood by bike or share that joy with the next generation of bike riders. Bike Month is a celebration of cycling. Bike Month invites new, learning, and experienced riders to celebrate the joys and possibilities of cycling – from commuting to work or school, to running errands, to minding your health — riding a bike is a healthy, sustainable, and FUN way to get around.
Dust off your saddle, pump up your tires, and roll out with Bike Month 2024 by joining the annual Bike to Work Day Group Commute to Nathan Phillips Square on Thursday, June 6.“
Pre-31 year old me wouldn’t have thought about this question. I wasn’t a runner. I wasn’t particularly “athletic”. I was still defined, athletically, at least in my mind, by being a smoker in my youth. One who got out of breath running across the street and stopped mid run during gym class in Grade 7 to have a smoke. Keeping aside our society’s current judgement of what I just described, it is simply a fact that this was part of my non-athletic youth. The one where I felt like an outsider in gym class and felt like all volleyballs were headed in my direction, waiting for the right moment to knock my thick glasses off my face. I couldn’t picture myself being one of the pretty girls who wore 80’s lycra the way the manufacturer’s intended, during “gymnastics” class. The only part of gym class I have a vague memory of enjoying, was Grade 9 “co-ed” aerobics. Partly, because it wasn’t a team sport. I could do my thing in my own spot and partly because there were cute boys around who I could crush on while practicing my calisthenics.
Anyone who has read my posts for FIFI knows that I started running around 31 and it changed my life. As drastic as that may sound. There are 3 things that I would say changed my life in a positive way: (1) running (2) getting my rescue dog Barley in 2014 and (3) meeting my husband Gavin.
What are some things that didn’t change my life for the better? Hmm, leaving high school before I graduated to work more and to “finish” later. Leaving the University of Windsor before 3rd year to finish part time and start working full time (I mean, the job I started led to good things, so not all bad decisions are completely bad). Allowing my brain to make me feel insecure in many scenarios in my life and not figuring out better ways of combating that earlier.
I could tell you all the things I’ve achieved to counteract the things I mention in the above paragraph, but that’s not the point of this post. And, sometimes, I think, it’s best to leave things there, without commenting further. Just let them be. In more ways than leaving them here “to be” on the page (what is going to happen if I leave it there – will people judge me? Maybe. But, I’m 51.10 and if I can’t be truthful about myself now, when will I be.
Anyway, back to running. It has been such a constant source of mental relief, providing a needed physical outlet, a source of found fitness – and a HUGE ego boost. The first time I completed a half marathon – I WAS A RUNNER! I cried. The first time I completed a full marathon, my late Aunt Rae called me. She was about 80 then. She was a huge influence and presence in my life but we didn’t talk regularly at that time, but she called and she was crying about how proud of me she was and I will never forget that. I have been running regularly for 20 years now. I AM A RUNNER.
I don’t just run for the ego boost. I LOVE RUNNING. I understand that’s not true for everyone. That’s fine. I support people doing what works for them. But, I just said to my niece Carly, last week, “I never don’t want to run”. It’s true. I may be tired some mornings. I may side eye the weather. But I always look forward to my run. I appreciate the run. I was just listening to Julia-Louis Dreyfus’ Wiser Than Me podcast episode with Patti Smith. One of the things Patti talked about was how she says thank you to everything – the fish she is about to eat, her toothbrush, the shoes on her feet. I do too. I have been saying mantras when I run for a couple years now and I often say “I am. I can. I will. I do – Thank you”. Thank you for being able to run on this day, pretty much, is the sentiment, in my head.
I have other ways I practice my fitness and they all serve different purposes for me. Running isn’t the only fitness I do regularly but I think of it kind of as my “gateway” to thinking of myself as an athlete.
Last week, I had an incident that has thrown my running off course, a little. I was having trouble with my contact lenses when I went out for my usual Sunday long run. About a third of the way in, after playing with my contact lens for too long, I got the bright idea to just take the offending lens out of my eye. I have terrible eyesight. This was a bad decision. The difference between the one eye with the lens still in and the other one without, made me very unstable. Eventually, I accepted I couldn’t run. Then, I couldn’t walk either. It was a terrible feeling as I penguin-walked without being able to see properly while the elderly man with a cane clocked past me. Ultimately, about 2/3rds into my planned route, I decided I had to Uber home. It was disappointing but I figured it was just my contacts and chalked it up to an off day.
I decided that I had to go out for a run the next day, before work, to make up for the incomplete run day. I think, in the back of my mind, I knew there was a chance my brain would still be thinking of how unstable I felt the day before. I have a history of anxiety-induced panic attacks, involving different forms of movement. Generally, my feet feel better with both feet on the ground and my brain doesn’t like it when it doesn’t feel completely in control.
When I headed out for my compensatory run, I still felt a bit wobbly. Not my feet so much as my head. But that had it’s affect on my feet. And the more I had this problem, the more I felt unstable. The more I had this problem, my upper back and neck and head stiffened. I lost the ability to move my head safely peripherally. I was in panic mode. I stopped running again. Again, I had problems walking too. My mind was jumbled, racing, and unstable. I made it to a Starbuck’s not far from home, to use the washroom. Part of the problem with incomplete running is that when you are dressed for a run, and you end up barely walking, you can end up cold. I was cold. I was annoyed, frustrated and wondering who the fuck I was.
I texted Gavin to let him know I was having an issue. He was already on his way, walking in the other direction, to work. He asked me if he should come meet me. I said I was probably fine, but if he wanted to, sure. He met me there and with him with me, I felt less unstable walking back home. Not 100% but better. I already knew this mostly a “my brain is causing me problems” thing.
While trying to nurse my ego with positive thoughts, I talked to people who have had similar problems. I did some research. I read about things such as Benign paroxysmal positional vertigo (BPPV). I saw my doctor. I considered SSRIs. I tried some Tai Chi, Yoga for Vertigo and Grounding and I saw a physiotherapist who specializes in vestibular issues. I CANNOT NOT BE ABLE TO WALK AND RUN. Not for a situation that is mostly anxiety-induced. Short story is that I do not have BPPV. I do seem to have some type of anxiety induced vestibular issue. I know and my health professionals agree, I cannot avoid walking and running as that will just make it worse (see driving, which I don’t do anymore). I did not go on SSRIs for now. My doctor did agree to give me mild dosed Ativan if I’m having a panic attack. I haven’t used it yet. I’m doing balancing exercises that the physio gave me and will see him for awhile. I’ve made myself go out for walks and to the gym (I’m completely fine at the gym – more proof that it’s a head problem). Some of my walking has been soul-deflating. On one trip over the bridge, coming home from work, I had to call Gavin and talk to him to distract me from the panic that almost had me frozen in one spot and wanting to sit down in the middle of the bridge filled with people. Despite the not-so-great walks, I’ve had some more successful ones. I’ve been practicing grounding mantras (I am safe. I am grounded). Some stimming practices with my hands. Some singing while walking. I’ve started rating my walks and most of my walks were about a 75-80% in the normal range for me. This morning, I went out for a walk instead of a run. The beginning was a bit weird but it got better and I practiced jogging for short bursts. I didn’t feel like I could run the whole way like I normally would but I celebrated those short bursts.
I feel confident I will work through this and be running again soon. I am pretty sure my walking is mostly back to normal.
Who am I if I’m not running or a runner? I’m me. I’m prone to anxiety. I’m high-functioning when I’m not in panic attack mode. I’m many things that I won’t list here. Dammit, I don’t want to lose the running though.
Nicole P. is a runner (who also enjoys HIIT, walking long distances, some yoga, and strength training).
For most of us in the Northern Hemisphere, spring is really and truly here, and summer is on its way. Which means many things, but among them: new gear shopping. Yes, lots of folks I know are trying out new or new-to-them bikes, skates, boats, surfboards (one of my students told me he bought a sweet used one last week), and who knows what all.
I have joined in, having declared myself officially on the market for a (hopefully used in nice condition) tandem kayak. But Catherine, you might ask, don’t you already have a kayak?
Yes, I do. So what’s your point? Thanks to Unsplash for the photo.
Seriously, though: I did buy a lovely single kayak two years ago. You can see pictures of it here. It’s lightweight and fast in the water. But, it never quite suited me. Kayaks are like bikes in that they need to feel right. I never felt completely comfortable in it for a bunch of reasons. It’s a great boat, just not for me.
So, why a tandem kayak? Glad you asked. I found, over the last couple of years, that virtually all of the kayaking I want to do will be on flat-ish water, either on rivers or calm coastal waters. I really enjoy just paddling and hanging out, chatting with friends, gliding on the water, enjoying nature and the scenery.
My serious kayaker friends will do this with me occasionally, but it’s not their usual thing. My occasional kayaking friends don’t tend to have their own boats, so we’re limited to places where they can get rentals. This is fine, but I like the freedom and options that come with having your own equipment.
Enter the tandem. Spots for me and a guest of my choosing. Perfect, right? I can load the boat on top of the car, stuff a friend inside the car, and head to a scenic waterway whenever mood and weather are in sync.
What are the downsides, you might wonder? I’ve thought of this. Here are a few:
Tandem kayaks are heavier, longer and more unwieldy than single ones to load and unload
I won’t be able to paddle a tandem by myself, so I’m required to recruit another person when I want to go on the water
Tandems are more expensive than single kayaks
Tandems handle less elegantly than single kayaks
Let me take these obstacles in no particular order. First, there are some perfectly fine used tandems out there (I’ve already got my eye on one); I don’t need a new and expensive boat. Second, it’s true that I may need a friend to help me load and unload the boat, but I accept that challenge. Also, speaking of needing another person: I did not once take my current kayak out to paddle by myself. I don’t think it’s safe, and also it’s not as fun as kayaking with a friend. So the fact that I need another person is actually the whole point of buying a kayak-built-for-two.
Finally, I’ve found that I am not looking for elegance and fancy handling in a kayak. My current kayak is pretty elegant, but that’s not me. What’s me is enjoying being out on the water with others, and this will help me achieve that goal. Well, that’s the plan.
So, I’m selling my current boat to make room for the new-to-me one. I’ll post pictures once these transactions are done.
So, dear readers: do any of you own tandem kayaks? What do you recommend? Any other tips? I’d love to hear any advice you’ve got for me.
