It’s Monday and for me this winter, that means adult swimming lessons.
I’m taking lessons at Making Waves Swim School here in Guelph. The downside is that the classes aee late in the evening–8:30-9:15, because they happen after all the kids’ classes are over.
Most of the other adults in the class can’t swim and are a bit nervous in the water. I’m not nervous. I float well and can tread water forever. What I haven’t been able to do is swim well enough to lane swim for fitness. But I’m getting there. Last class, I swam 6 lanes of front crawl, a bunch of backstroke, and lots of floating on my back and kicking. Getting there….
Sarah and I are getting ready for a summer of cycling, some of it in the excellent company of occasional blogger Susan F.
In June, it’s the Tour de Guelph and in September it’s the Spinning Wheels Tour. We’ve also got a weekend booked in April at Point Pelee National Park and another in May at the Pinery.
When we are home in Guelph, we’ll ride here on the weekends and on weekends at the farm, we’ll ride in the county. I might even organize some pre-work rides with other U of G people training for the Tour de Guelph.
And seriously, you can ride as much or as little of the route as you like. Some people will ride all the way everyday, some people are just riding one of the days, and others will ride a little bit each day. It’s your ride. It’s up to you. Last year we had the Wanda the Winnebago riding with us, as well as several support vehicles.
Check out photos from last year’s Spinning Wheels Tour here.
That’s Susan on the left, and Jeff, on the right. He was driving a support car the day we biked into Stratford.
Have y’all been watching the winter Olympics? Maybe it’s just me, but it’s seemed even more thrilling and entertaining and awe-inspiring than usual. The women’s speed-skating, women’s and men’s figure skating, the hockey, all those flipping and twirling skiers and snowboarders, the fast-fast-fast downhillers– just wow. And of course the suspenseful curling.
But the ski mountaineering just blew my mind. Skimo is absolutely my worst nightmare of an athletic event. It requires the participants (who must have been willing at some point, though I don’t understand why) to ski uphill, taking off their skis to walk/trot up an inexplicable staircase, put said skis back on, trudge/trot to the top, take the skis skins off (making sure to put them safely in a pouch), and then ski downhill on light-and-skinny skis in an act that one commentator said was like “skiing a steep downhill on two pieces of dried pasta”.
That sounds terrible.
But then, I thought, maybe that’s what makes this sport so appealing– it’s the most tiring, challenging sport they could think of.
But, could we help them out and offer suggestions to make it even harder? I think we can. Here are some ideas I came up with.
1) Like the cross country ski race entrant Nazgul, the Czechoslovakian wolf dog (not to be confused with Heated Rivalry’s stupid Canadian wolf bird), they should allow dogs on the trail. Petting will be permitted, but competitors may not commandeer dog treats for themselves during the race.
2) For the relay races, participants should have to stand in line to buy another lift ticket. They need to make sure they have their credit cards ready, as the Olympic vendors won’t take cash.
3) Like the Tour de France, they could have photographers and team coaches on Sno-Cats, rumbling up and down the hills in between the competitors. Having them shout “go faster!” would be optional.
4)Allow spectators all along the course, screaming, partying, encouraging them with cowbells, and offering them beer hand ups during the stairs part of the race. Non-alcoholic of course, as this IS he Olympics. Honestly, I’m not sure if this will make their job easier or harder. The only way to know for sure is to try it.
5) Require that each competitor take at least 4 selfie photos and post them on social media during the race. So much of what happens doesn’t “officially count” unless it’s been posted, so why not include race results in that category? 🙂 Extra points for selfies with a spectator, and double extra points for a selfie with a dog on the course.
So, readers– any other ideas to make this sport even more chaotic and difficult? I welcome your suggestions.
Joyce Lister (MacDonald) Sangster died on Wednesday after nearly 97 years on this earth. It’s easy to only see where a person is at when they die. It’s far harder to see them in their youth, especially when you didn’t know them then.
I’ve written often about Gran, our conversations and her influence on me.
You might think “what else could she possibly tell us that she hasn’t already?”
Well strap in for the long read, ‘cause I got a lot of tales to tell.
Basketball
Gran was a vibrant and active woman. She played high school basketball and went on to play in the McAdam village women’s team after graduation. She kept the picture of her and her teammates in the den. The uniforms had crisp collars and pleated skirts. It was the late 1940s after all. She would travel to Saint John and Fredericton for tournaments. The journey taking 4 or 5 hours as there weren’t highways at the time.
Skating
My earliest memories of her are helping me ice skate. We would watch figure skating in the 1980s and she would tell me about how the sport started out “well it was basically a little hop and coasting on one leg back then.”
She was steady and graceful on figure skates helping me learn turns and backwards moves.
Cross Country Skiing
She had wooden cross country skis that we would carefully wax. Anj and I would take turns with her, breaking trail on our modern plastic skis both in McAdam and when she lived in Aroostook.
Sometimes we would pick the wrong wax and Gran’s skis would get clumped up with snow. It was hilarious.
Downhill skiing
She and Grandad would take Anj and I to Mt Farlange to downhill ski. A luxury we would never have experienced without her interest.
Snowshoe
There was snowshoeing, toboggan rides and snow forts.
We had our choice of traditional wooden snowshoes. One design we called partridge feet, round on the front with a long tail out the back. This is more widely known as Huron design. The other pairs were aluminum bear paws, oval with lacing rather than gut. It always took a bit to find our stride but then we would run around the woods, floating on top of the snow.
Summer fun
Summertime with Gran meant swimming, rowing a dinghy and splashing along in the pedal boat at the camp on Oromocto Lake.
We would have family get togethers in July, near her birthday. At first it was the extended Sangster clan, including my great grandparents and all of their descendants. As time went on it was down to Gran & Grandad’s family.
These gatherings always included lawn darts, horseshoes and Croquet.
Walking
Gran was famous in retirement for her daily walks. Her morning route took her by most of my family on my Dad and Mom’s side.
It’s 1999 and I’m kneeling next to Gran. She’s sitting in a grey velour chair holding my oldest son, Oli. There are decorative plates in the background that today hang in my dining room.
A foodie before that was a thing
Besides being incredibly active and fit, Gran was an amazing cook. Her cookies and pies, delicious. She loved feeding people and dessert was served after every meal. Bacon and eggs for breakfast was completed with a donut. Lunch was followed by pie or squares. After dinner, ice cream or cookies.
Big family meals meant a mountain of mashed potatoes that she would not stop serving until we had all undone our waistbands, begging to stop eating.
Growing food and flowers
She loved to garden, growing vegetables and cut flowers. Gran decorated for every occasion and had brooches and outfits for Valentines, St Patrick’s…all the things.
Gran sits at the counter at my parents’ house holding my youngest kid, Jean. I know it’s Jean because Gran has a Christmas tree brooch on and Jean was born on Halloween.
Painting
Gran was an avid oil painter. I would sneak photos of her works in progress. Gran always found fault with her pieces but I was in awe.
Two paintings, one of chickadees the other birch trees along a pond. Four paintings. A red and white light house, a grey barn in a snow covered field, a red covered bridge and a fall stand of trees in browns and oranges. A scraggly note says “Gran’s Artwork 85/86”. I clearly don’t take after Gran in the penmanship department.
Crafting and Gifting
Gran knit, sewed and was generally crafty. She sent me a Christmas card and birthday cards for my whole family every year. Her beautiful script would be accompanied by stickers and a bit of cash. She loved hearing what we bought.
No hugs!
Things I wish were different with Gran. I wished I gotten her hugging more and saying “I love you”. She was very reserved, stoic even. Quick to smile and laugh, she was not demonstrative and neither are her children. I’ve taken up the cause of addressing the hug deficit in my family, much to the chagrin of most.
Gran, my dad, Oli is in my arms. We are outside of my hobby farm in Aylesford NS in the summer of 2000.
The last few times I saw her Gran no longer recognized me. Sometimes she thought I was my mom or another long lost relative or friend. While I thought I had said my goodbyes and that I was ready, it turns out I really wasn’t. I’m so sad for the lost time. She was an immense figure in my life despite being a very tiny woman.
In case you do know our family and want to leave condolences I’ve included her obituary.
Sarah and I have ridden the Tour de Guelph a few times. We’ve ridden the 100 km with our friend David and the 50 km with our friend Ellen
What is the Tour de Guelph?
“The Tour de Guelph is an annual, inclusive community cycling event in Guelph, Ontario, that raises funds for the Foundation of Guelph General Hospital and local Rotary Club of Guelph South/Trillium projects. Established in 2014, it offers various routes for all ages and abilities, ranging from 5 km to 113 km, focusing on community health and fundraising.”
Race Against Time takes on a whole new meaning as you age. I’m no longer trying to get faster. I’m just trying to stave off what feels like the inevitable crumbling.
The orange silhouette of a woman is superimposed on a white clock face and black background, with the words Race against Time in blue, white and orange letters on the right side of the image. The image was found at: https://ability360.org/uncategorized/august-18-race-against-time/
That ankle injury I wrote about back in December is still bothering me. The muscle tightness is easing, but it looks increasingly like I have a partially torn hamstring.
While I wait for an ultrasound (next week, yay!) I am continuing with my other health care providers, who are giving me more exercises to do. It’s all good advice, but it’s a lot!
My massage therapist has had me doing at least 10 minutes of yin yoga each day. I have chosen to do YouTube videos to relax before bed. Sometimes they are done IN bed, which is rather nice, as well as being easy on my knees.
My physiotherapist has assigned balance exercises. My Pilates class focuses on bone health, fall prevention, and building up our cores so we can get up off the floor easily. This has proven surprisingly difficult, so every day I am trying to add in extra strength exercises and as many of the class exercises as I can remember.
Of course I am continuing with my regular activities. I made the mistake of doing absolutely nothing except a bit of yoga one weekend, and I felt like I could barely walk by Sunday night. Never again will I doubt the importance of active rest. Motion is clearly lotion for my body.
These cartoon bottles of lotion wearing blue caps and doing various exercises on a green background made me happy. The image is from the Queensland Health Facebook page, posted June 23, 2025.
My first (guest) blog post for FIFI was about my imposter syndrome when it comes to fitness. I talked about how, despite, my decades of dedication to fitness, I still felt like the kid who received a participation badge in gym class.
I haven’t felt that way in a while. I have often blogged about the WHY I am so consistent with my fitness. Thankfully, I learned long ago that my WHY was about how fitness makes me feel. How, no matter what else is going on, fitness leaves me feeling better. Some days that may be a smidge. Some days it may be the smidge that leads to a good workout – on another day.
As I get older, the WHY just becomes clearer to me. Watching parents age and seeing, firsthand, the importance of maintaining functional fitness as one ages has become crystal clear. Of course, not everything is within one’s control, but where it is, doing what one can, within what works for them, can contribute to more freedom when one is older. Whether that means the ability to walk to the grocery store or lift a travel bag onto a train, every little bit can help.
I have experienced, first-hand, the grief of losing parents and beloved pets and I have experienced how movement, even at a slower pace, can help you move through the sluggishness and omnipresence of grief.
I long ago trained myself not to focus on society’s idea of results when it comes to fitness. If I focus on how fitness makes me feel and not how it may change the number on my pants — the WHY is more sustaining for me.
This doesn’t mean that I am immune to the perfectionist-seeking culture of “the perfect amount of protein/cocktail of hormones/supplements/cold plunging” that could make me exude the platinum version of Nic, both internally and externally. But, the grounding I have in my long-standing habits prevents me from taking the idea of perfectionism too seriously. I know it’s not possible.
What is perfectionism to me, anyway? Is it important to me? NO. As I get older, the idea of legacy becomes more of a nagging question. Legacy for me has nothing to do with my outward appearance. It has to do with what others may remember about you. Especially, how you may have helped or inspired them in a positive way.
A colleague, who is a few years older than me, recently told me that they have been discovering how much they enjoy strength training. They have been working with a trainer, in a safe way. They told the trainer, right off the bat, that they didn’t want to focus on losing weight or inches. They wanted to focus on feeling stronger. My colleague told me how well it’s been going and how much better they have been feeling.
This isn’t the first time someone has casually mentioned to me that they have had this type of experience and that they were, partly, influenced by my approach to fitness and seeing me in action for awhile. Each time, this type of thing makes my heart sing.
As I continue through various stages of middle-age and beyond (poo poo poo), I am so glad that I have my style of training under my belt, and, hopefully, withstand societal pressures that come with this stage of life.
Nicole P. is experimenting with different gyms, continuing strength and conditioning workouts, doing some mat pilates and anxiously awaiting clearer sidewalks to return to more consistent running routines again.
At least that’s what some of my more serious cycling friends have to say. They’re posting about it on social media.
Typically, they head south in March, during the school holidays, and take part in a riding camp. After they return, it’s outdoor riding season. No more time on the trainer!
There will definitely be more daylight then. In the Toronto area, by the end of March, it’ll be getting light around 730 am and staying light until 730 pm. It will certainly be warmer.
I’m not that hardcore these days. My summer plans no longer include races. and I’m not even aspiring to be that hardcore, but I do feel spring is in the air by the end of March and that definitely means more time outside on the bike.
Around here, our riding life isn’t so structured. Sarah and I have our first bike trip planned for early April. I’m hoping to start commuting as early as next week. It’ll be above freezing if I leave for work late enough in the morning. But I’m also still riding on the trainer and I’ll likely keep that up through the spring.
How about you? When does your outdoor riding season begin?
Philosopher Nick Riggle wrote a great post over on Substack about “era” as a way of thinking about different times in our lives. Riggle’s The Eras Tour Through Life is, of course, based on Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour.
When we think about organizing in life in frames, we often think of life chapters, but Riggle–along with a bunch of feminist philosophers– worry that chapters can be pretty constraining. Not all life stories have the kind of narrative structure that goes along with chapters. Chapters are also connected with the liberal idea of the self as a career. You know, The Years of Preparation, The Years of Struggle, the Minivan Years, and so on. Chapters require progression, beginnings and endings, and closure and many of our lives lack this. (I talk about this in my very old paper, Feminist philosophers turn their thoughts to death.)
So maybe we should join the Swifties and embrace eras instead?
Writes Riggle, “Personal erasare another kind of frame. They are a bit like narratives but without progression from beginning to end. And they are a bit like labels but without as much built-in social structure, and with the built-in assumption of being temporary—at some point the era is over and a new, potentially disconnected era begins.”
“Thinking of oneself as being in a partying era, a healing era, a flop era, or a villain era suspends the demand for narrative coherence and replaces it with something lighter and more fluid and provisional. An era does not need to justify itself by what came before or what comes after. It does not have to pay off or resolve into some other chapter. Nor does it need to frame our agency by framing our selves and structuring our identities. It only needs to hang together thematically for a while and then…embrace the asteroid.”
“One of the joys of eras is how creative you can be with them. Want to leave parties, evening gatherings, and late work functions earlier to get better sleep? Try the Irish exit era. Want to focus more and be more productive? Enter your monk mode era. Want to embrace chaos and accept looser standards for yourself? Enter your hot mess era. Many academics would benefit from entering their ‘piss off’ era and systematically declining the many requests for their free labor from predatory publishers and university administrators (to name two of roughly one billion sources). I am currently in my ageing Millennial adornment era, embracing more tattoos and jewelry.”
I taught an upper-year philosophy class a couple of years ago on life-stages, and we could have used the Riggle-Swift idea of life’s eras. Many of my students didn’t feel at all comfortable with traditional life-stage talk, partly, I suspect, because they might not be living lives with the usual markers of adulthood–moving out, financial independence, marrying, buying a house, having children, and so on.
What appeals to me about eras is the creativity and the playfulness. As Riggle notes, eras are low stakes.
Here on the blog, I think we’ve all written about our different fitness lives.
Tracy and I have written about coming to think of ourselves as “adult-onset athletes” and the change of identity that involved. Now, Tracy has moved into her 60s and is thinking about fitness as sustainability.
What I like about the era-talk is that past eras can re-emerge. It’s not a one-way fitness track from competitive athlete to aging aquafit participant, maybe with some pickleball thrown in the middle. I’ve really been struggling with the way people talk about giving up things as they age. I’m a very curious person who likes learning new things. I don’t expect that to change as I get older. I very much want to resist the narrative of life narrowing and slowing down. I’ve written here about aging and expanding one’s world, so I think I’ll talk about fitness eras, instead of chapters with all that implies about endings and conclusions.
