Feminist reflections on fitness, sport, and health
We’re fourteen years old today.
I never know exactly which day to count, the day of our first actual post, after writing our bios, or the day we got all set up on WordPress.
Today is the latter.
Happy blog birthday to us!
Here is a photo from our recent blog BBQ. I think next year I’ll get us a birthday cake with 15 candles.
If you’re a blogger, even an occasional one, save the date. It’s Sunday, August 22, 2027.
This week, Diane posted about the newest Ottawa-Gatineau open-water swim spots. If you missed it, you can check it out here. I’ve always been attracted to the idea of swimming in an urban environment. It feels adventurous and a little subversive. You are in nature, but also adjacent to architecture, machinery, roads, cars– all the features of the modern city.
This is no news to European city dwellers, who have their choice of open-water swim spots that have been designed for ease of access and are monitored for safety. The New York Times did a splashy (forgive the pun) spread featuring several of these swimmable cities, which you can see without a paywall here. I can’t resist sharing some of their photos below.
One of my fantasy vacations would be to do an open-water European swim tour. All I’d need would be my Speedo, a towel, and a public transport pass. Imagine that.
In the US, there are loads of lovely wild swimming spots in national and state parks and also more out-of-the-way but well-known-to-locals spots. I’ve enjoyed refreshing dips in Black Creek in Darlington, South Carolina and Oak Creek in Sedona, Arizona, to name a couple. Our friends at the NYT also covered cool US wild swimming holes are here.
However, if urban open swimming is what you’re looking for, the US is not the best place to find it. There are a handful of city beaches in coastal cities, and some places organize open-water urban swim events, but in general, access to urban waters is not legal or reasily accessible or safe here. Boooo…
In Boston, my hometown, there’s a yearly event called CitySplash, where people can sign up for a time slot to jump into the Charles River from a dock and paddle around with other enthusiastic urban swimmers. Some years, however, the bacteria levels are too high and the event gets canceled. I blogged about my own CitySplash experience here.
The dedicated people at the Charles River Conservancy have big plans to transform parts of the urban riverscape to allow swimming and splashing for people of all ages and swimming abilities. Here’s a rendering of what they envision, with public transport access, shallow and deep swim areas and places to hang out.
But it’s certainly not happening this week. Intermittently this summer, the Charles River has been the site of a cyanobactera alge bloom. And this week, that bloom expanded. You can see it below.
The Cambridge public health department explains more here.
Algae and cyanobacteria (also called blue-green algae) are plant-like organisms that live in water. They can quickly grow out of control, or “bloom.” Some of these blooms produce toxins (poisons) that make people and animals sick. If you, your child, or your pet comes in contact with the water, rinse off immediately. Contact can cause skin and eye irritation, and inhalation or ingestion can cause respiratory irritation and other illness. If the blue-green algae are producing toxins, the health effects can be serious.
Practically speaking, cyanobacteria blooms mean no swimming, boating, paddleboarding, or fishing in the affected areas. Pets should be prevented from drinking the water, as it is harmful to them, too.
What causes these bacterial infections of our urban waters? A bunch of things, including pollution, runoff from hard rains, and increased temperatures. You can read more about it on the Environmental Protection Agency’s website here (which still mentions climate change, miraculously– don’t tell anyone…)
This is a pretty big problem for the planet, the environment, our water supply, and also our access to the joys of urban swimming. There are some things we can do to mitigate and respond to the causes, and I hope we can claim and reclaim some spaces in our cities for swimming and splashing.
Readers, have you done any urban swimming? Where was it? How was it? I’d love to hear from you.
Are you familiar with the term “friend homework”? My yoga instructor friend Jess introduced me to this term a while back. It means any digital interactions with friends: liking posts, reading blogs, watching reels in your DMs. It’s the online things you do between the in person interactions that keep your friendships going.
I see it as an aspect of kin keeping, the emotional and social work we do to define who our people are.
In person is best
Last weekend I enjoyed seeing some of my fellow Fit is a Feminist bloggers. Some I met for the first time!
We talked about things we don’t necessarily blog about, the deeply personal stuff as well as sharing about our lives outside of fitness.
It was a great afternoon. Thank you Sam, Sarah and Kathleen for hosting us!
Kudos, likes, shares and comments
Whatever platform you share your fitness activities on (Strava, Peloton, Zwift, Facebook, Instagram…) there is some way for your friends to acknowledge your workouts.
And I’m here for all of it. Ellen mentioned at the barbecue how great it was to get consistent kudos from me on Strava. I check it almost every day and I do my best to thumbs up all the activities. It’s a tiny connector and positive reinforcement. I see you friends!
Normalizing active living
Seeing what everyone is doing normalizes daily activity for me. I see your daily cycling commute. I see you lifting heavy things. Nice walk!
I especially appreciate seeing activities when I only know folks from one sport. Like Randonneur Luke is a triathlete. I didn’t know he also swam and ran like he cycles. I appreciate him even more!
Making the invisible visible
When I went to the gym I’d see some friends but only those whose workout timing synched up with mine. Everyone else’s time in the gym was invisible to me.
For cycling friends, they live all over Canada: Ontario, Nova Scotia, Saskatchewan….all kinds of places. Aside from the occasional event I would otherwise have no sense of the kind of season they are having.
Having some way to see what everyone is doing gives me a better picture of what it means to be fit.
Sharing is caring
I’m lucky to be in a group chat with some London area Randonneurs. We share car rides to event starts and other strategies to reduce costs of events. We problem solve to eliminate barriers to participation. Sometimes we just share a silly reel or meme that is about cycling. It all counts!
Cheerleading and consoling
I’m here for your wins. HIGH FIVE!
More importantly, I’m here for the DNFs, the mechanicals and the injuries. Because these are important moments in our fitness stories.
CASE study
I’m also doing that friend homework as a Copy And Steal Everything (CASE) study. Oh is there a great 50 km route with a delicious pastry shop? Thank you for the idea!
Ohhh you can open water swim there? ON IT!
There are free kayak rentals from the library? Hello! I’m going!
Wins all around
I hope this post encourages you to share your workouts and activities on a platform that works for you. It helps with accountability and a sense of community.
I also hope you realize that when you do your fitness friend homework you are making a real difference to your friends.
Sure, nothing beats Kim grabbing me by the shoulder, shaking me and exclaiming “Keep cycling! You are awesome!” but a little digital thumbs up is a sweet taste of that in person sugar. I encourage you to give it a go.
To mark the completion of easing myself back into running with the Couch to 5K program, I signed up for an event! I have had the Constantine Yorkville Run event in mind for almost a year. I first learned about it last year, on my way to the Y on a Sunday in September. I had to wait to cross the street while 1000 runners made their way across the intersection at Bay and Bloor.
Instead of waiting to cross Bay Street, I kept walking south on the same side of the street, in the same direction of the race route on Bay St. I knew the starting line crowd would dissipate before I needed to get to the other side. By the time I had walked with them for 10 minutes I had race fever myself. I literally got a rush just venturing out into the road as I made my way across, being careful not to interfere with the back-of-the-pack participants still coming (in a thinner stream, as I had predicted). I decided to set it as my year-out training goal.
This happened despite my saying several times along the way in recent years that I am done with events. I mean, it’s not as if I’ve ever been an especially competitive participant. But I have used events to good purpose as training goals before. And this one has certainly done its job. Race day is on September 20, and with just over three weeks to go, I’m feeling good and motivated. It is a charity race with fundraising minimum. My charity of choice for the event is SeaPaws Rescue, an organization based in Ontario that rescues animals locally and overseas. If you’d like to support SeaPaws Rescue through my fundraising page, I would very much appreciate your donation.
I only started training in earnest back in April, when I embarked on the Couch to 5K plan with “beginner’s mind.” It hasn’t gone fully as planned, but I got far enough into the program (to the end of week 7) to feel sufficiently back in the game by about a month ago.
I transitioned from that to the Furman Institute of Running and Scientific Training (FIRST) training plan, as outlined in the book, Runner’s World Run Less, Run Faster. The program is designed to help people run faster with lower than the usual recommended mileage. It has two main components: three purposeful, quality runs a week and two cross-training sessions. Purposeful runs, as the name implies, have a specific training purpose. The three runs are: speed work; tempo runs; and long runs.
Each has a distinct purpose. The speed work sessions are intervals aim at VO2max development with intense intervals that push the pace hard, followed by periods of recovery in between. The tempo runs maintain a sustained effortful pace over a specified distance, most closely mimicking the effort required on race day. The long runs are meant to promote endurance.
The cross-training can be any aerobic activity. I have selected swimming for my cross-training sessions. I hope I can maintain this commitment. I have been having some difficulties with ear aches. This has been an issue for me throughout my adult life. I have managed it in the past with ear plugs. But I am back to experimenting with ear plugs to find a kind that creates a sufficient seal. So far, I have not had any luck. Last week’s swim resulted in a week-long ear ache. So we’ll see. But that’s the plan. The purpose of the cross-training activity is to maintain aerobic capacity while giving the running muscles a rest. Swimming is perfect.
I’m enjoying the idea of the FIRST plan, though I’m sure my intensity and distances are not what the founders had in mind. Regardless, I have built up to 6K for my long runs, so I know I can comfortably complete the 5K on race day. I’m enjoying the speed work a lot — I love interval running and the soft perimeter of Queen’s Park is perfect for the short bursts required. I’m using the NIKE Run Club app’s guided speed runs for coaching through those. As far as tempo runs go, I am maintaining my target pace and slowly extending the time I can maintain at tempo. Yesterday I did two 7-minute intervals at tempo, with a 2-minute rest and recovery walk in between. Next week I’m extending those to eight minutes. And the week after I’m keeping to eight minutes but reducing the recovery time to one minute instead of two. My goal after that will be to maintain 10 minutes at tempo twice, with one minute between.
I think/hope the adrenaline of race day will enable me to cover 5K in three 10-1 intervals. That is my goal — to finish the 5K in under 35 minutes. After that, I will work on a new goal for a spring event. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself.
I’m excited about the upcoming event. It’s been a good goal and I’m happy to be fundraising for a worthy cause too.
The National Capital Commission has opened several swim spots that are proving very popular, helping turn Ottawa-Gatineau into much more enjoyable river cities. The first was the River House, which opened in 2023. I wrote a bit about it here, after my first visit. Last year, it opened another one on Dow’s Lake, and this summer we got spots at the Museum of History in Gatineau and one at the base of Kiweki Point, right where the Rideau Canal empties into the Ottawa River.
I hadn’t made it to Dow’s Lake last year, or visited the new spots this year, so last week I headed out by bike with my friend Florence so we could try them all before they closed for the season.
We didn’t swim long at any of the venues but it still took us almost four hours to complete the route.
To finish off, we joined a couple of swim club mates for an easy loop around a small private lake. That took us to a little over 1800 M of swimming for the day.
Strava tells me that ride was my longest in 2026. In fact, it was about 26.5 km for the day (my phone died for the last bit). That makes it my longest ride since 2024.
My conclusions?
I’ve had a blog post in my head all summer about summer cycling and distance goals. It’s called “Is 50 km my new 100 km?’
In past years when I’ve done the Tour de Guelph in June, I did the 100 km distance but this year I picked 50 km. It seemed the natural choice. Now, I said I did that because we were trying to attract first-time riders for whom 50 km would be a reasonable goal that early in the summer, but also at the end of June, the Tour de Guelph was only my second 50 km ride of the season. It felt like the right distance for me.
July was a hot mess of family tragedy and wildfire smoke.
See Sam’s summer movement plans go awry: Some problems … and Sam and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Summer.
This month I’m struggling to find the time to ride 200 km. I chose that distance for my Great Cycle Challenge, thinking it wouldn’t really be much of a struggle. I thought that even if bad things kept happening and all my plans went to hell, I’d still be able to manage 200 km in a month easily.
Not so easy, it turns out.
Want to make me feel better, donate here!
My friend, former graduate student, and twitchy spouse of Natalie, Michel rode 600 km in a weekend recently. A weekend! 600 km!
Twelve years ago I rode 1300 km in August. I know, I know. Comparison is the thief of joy. but still.
Ten years ago I wrote, “What’s your favourite distance? I like 100 km because I can have a normal day after. Ride 100 km in the morning, done and dusted, and get on with the weekend. 160 km requires serious refueling and serious naps. Next thing I know it’s night and my Saturday is shot. How about you?” See here.
Now 100 km feels like a big challenge.
I’m not alone, I know. See Nat’s account of her recent 100 km ride.
So, I know I’m older. But I don’t think this is about age.
I know what I have to do to make long-distance riding comfortable and easy. I need to ride more.
In the years I found the bike rally’s 660 km easy, it’s because I was a) regularly bike commuting, b) doing 30-40 km training rides one or two nights a week, c) doing a long ride on Saturday, often more than 100 km, and sometimes a recovery ride on Sunday, and d) doing bike vacations where we rode bikes every day.
Now I’m just bike commuting and doing an occasional 25 km bike ride on the weekend. No wonder distance goals seem hard.
I’ve realized it’s also an issue with my word of the year, expand. Yes, I’ve been swimming and skating and all sorts of other things but the only thing that makes you a better cyclist really is time on the bike.
What’s my plan then?
Well, I’ve signed up for the half bike rally next summer to raise money for the Toronto PWA–I’m planning to ride from Kingston to Montreal. This event is important to me because the money raised goes to help people living with HIV/AIDS. People who need food, wellness care, peer support or just to be in a place that is welcoming and safe for them. You can donate here.
I’d like to do the full distance, Toronto to Montreal, in 2028.
At some point, I want to ride 200 km in a day. Maybe that’s a Fall 2028 goal when I’m on research leave.
In the meantime, I’m looking for people to ride with in Guelph.
I’m looking for destinations for winter riding that aren’t Florida or Arizona, to be clear, aren’t in the United States at all.
Here’s my past winter rides:
March 2022 Alton Illinois. See here and here and here.
January 2020 Mount Dora, Florida
January 2019 Clermont, Florida
2015 Arizona in February and South Carolina in March
February 2010 Arizona, see here.
But while Trump is in office, I’m not going to the United States. I need another plan!
My goal for 2026 is 2,500 km, and I’m at about 1,100. There are 18 weeks left in 2026. That’s 77 km a week to meet my goal. But the problem is that the mileage goal alone isn’t motivational. I like achieving the goal when I fill my life with riding.
See you out there!
A reminder for all of us who have had tough summers:
I’m on a solo bike trip that would be the most common response to the Family Feud question “what kind of bike trip would a white middle aged Canadian geeky academic go on?” I’m riding from Amiens to Bruges, through memorials and battlefield sites from the first world war. I booked this trip last winter before I embarked on months of moving across country and a million other things and just generally letting my fitness routine slide to the bottom of the priority list.
On Monday, I wrote on my personal blog about my trepidation before I started riding, and then about the wind sucking the life out of me on my first day of riding. My second day of riding was longer and more complicated, but I wasn’t as shattered at the end — it was a little less windy, the hills weren’t as steep, and my asthma inhaler worked a little better. I had a lovely conversation with a woman from last night’s hotel, and she was super encouraging and drew me a little itinerary that fit what I wanted better than the tour company’s plan for the day.
It’s still not easy, though, and I’ve been pondering what part of it continues to draw me, makes me feel like I haven’t had a summer if I haven’t done a slightly too hard solo bike trip. It’s not exactly “fun” — the terrain isn’t straightforward, the wind is always tearing at me the wrong way, and it’s very hilly. I took a detour today off the planned route to see a little Canadian military cemetery near Courcelette, and I asked google maps how to get to the town where I would rejoin the planned route. I ended up on 3.5 km of road that started like the image on the left, become the middle one and ended like the one on the right.
It’s a good thing the bike my tour company gave me is a solid hybrid. And at the end of that track, I saw my first actual fieldpoppies. The ground is so parched and most crops have been harvested, so despite the poppies on all of the memorial signs, I have hardly seen any real ones.
The ride was a series of little challenges like that — the tea room at the Thiepval memorial was closed, but there was a vending machine and a bathroom. The nice man at the Newfoundland memorial wanted me to park my bike across the street and take off my helmet for decorum and I just couldn’t bear it, so I just gave a nod to the NFLDers and kept going. There was a road closure that meant I had to plot an alternative that — I hoped — wouldn’t be another rutted track or a main road filled with fast trucks. It wasn’t, but it added 10 km or so. When I finally got to my hotel, the desk guy eyed me skeptically, checked me in laconically and didn’t make any kind of effort to help me carry the heavy bag that had been delivered while I was riding, even as he told me my room was up steep stairs. So I dragged it, bike shoes and all, self-reliant once more. And of course, when I arrived in Arras after 65 tough kilometres with low blood sugar and a need to eat, I ran into the eternal french problem of restaurants firmly closing between 230 and 7.
And yet, it’s fun. It’s nice when people say things like “I could never do that” — because I don’t think I can either, really, but I’m just bloody determined. Dealing with the curveballs makes me feel competent. I’m glad it’s not 35C and that my body is mostly holding up. It feels appropriate that this quasi-pilgrimage to those horrific battlefields isn’t on an air conditioned bus, but is measured out in one pedal stroke at a time. I like this time-out-of-time feeling where — despite September looming at me — I can hold real life at bay for a few more days. I like discovering towns I would never ever go to if I weren’t on a bike, towns that aren’t fancy or magnetic, but just where people live. I ended up finding food in a place called Emilie and the Cool Kids that sells juice and hot dogs, but they were out of hot dogs. I asked for a quinoa salad and they were out of quinoa, but somehow, I ended up with the exact thing that I most want at the end of a long bike day — a salad made out of spinach, goat cheese and pasta with sundried tomatoes. I like being put into the place of noticing and enjoying the small things — I savoured the heck out of that salad and whatever the juice was that came with it.
I am having a lot of thoughts about memory, and who gets to tell stories, and why there are weddings at a tea shop at a huge war memorial, and what it means to us to honour rows of stones marking unknown soldiers when we, as humans, never grow out of the kind of bullying and territorial behaviour that leads to war. It feels unnerving to be touring the historical places that are part of solidifying Canada as a country at the same moment when our sovereignty is genuinely threatened more seriously than in nearly a century. And somehow, riding my bike through these sites reminds me that humans are resilient, and that we get through it. So I keep pedalling. Noticing the ripe apples and the unexpected goat cheese and the gift of a woman named Isabelle who was invested in my joy.
Fieldpoppy is Cate Creede-Desmarais, who has another four days of riding.
I’ve had a Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Summer. I’m not sure how to answer when I see people on campus or at work whom I haven’t seen all summer, and they ask about it. “How was your summer? Did you have any great vacation? Go anywhere fun?” In three words: Bad. No. No.
Those of you who know about my summer know about it. It involved all the bad things–illness, hospitalization, death (none of it mine)…and every time we made a plan to do something, it felt like another bad thing happened and got in the way. I’m not going to go into details. They are other peoples’ stories to tell, and reciting the list of bad things isn’t helping me either.
But I can’t stop the end of summer and ask for a do-over. September is almost here whether we like it or not.
I was visiting a friend recently who had also had a bad summer and she said she’s still waiting for the summer holidays. I get that feeling but I’m also a realist who works at a university. September is unstoppable.
So what’s my strategy for starting the academic year when I feel like I need a holiday and a break from bad things?
First, I’m going to remind myself that summer wasn’t a total wash. We had fun in Nova Scotia with our folding bikes.
Here’s our ride between Lunenburg and Mahone Bay.
And one in Lawrencetown.
We also went camping, twice–once with our friend Susan and once with Sarah’s nephew Joachim.
And I got to ride in the Tour de Guelph, even if I haven’t done much other riding this summer. I liked our week at the family farm in Prince Edward County.
And the bloggers’ backyard BBQ was fun too.
And we had fun at a friend’s cottage for a weekend, swimming in Lake Huron and playing cards.
Second, I’m reminding myself that before all the bad things happened, we had fun in the spring–riding bikes in Point Pelee National Park in April and car camping at the Pinery with Cheddar in May.
Third, I’m also reminding myself that I have some great summer fun in the bank. We have had some very fun summers in recent years. I’ve been to Edinburgh, to Rome, and to Iceland. We’ve sailed boats and ridden bikes lots.
Fourth, I’m also looking forward to some of the travel from this summer that got bumped to next. See you in England in 2027, family and friends!
Fifth, I’m going to keep having fun and even taking some time off, even though it’s fall. Sarah and I have a bunch of weekends away planned, even another canoe camping trip in Algonquin where we’ll see my son Miles who is working at a resort in the park.
Sixth, I’m thinking I might go somewhere warm this winter and ride my bike!
What’s your strategy when summer disappoints? What do you do when the season you rely on for rest and relaxation, fun and adventure just doesn’t pull through? What do you do to cope?
This time last week, I had to work hard to focus on the good.
At that point, I had spent three days dealing with some lower back pain that had kind of come out of nowhere.*
That was annoying, obviously, but what was really frustrating is that up to the first day of back pain, I was on a 40 day exercise streak with the Hybrid Calisthenics app.**
For the first time in ages (maybe ever?) I was finding it easy to exercise, I was generally enjoying each session, the whole thing felt very purposeful, and I was seeing and feeling some results.
But then I had to break my streak to care for my back.
Part of my brain immediately went into story mode (a professional hazard for storyteller/writer types) and told me that a) I would have a hard time picking up where I left off and I might have to start again b) that I was probably going to put my routine aside and not remember it for ages c) if I did start again, I would have lost my momentum and it would take a lot of effort to convince myself to exercise.
Now, I’m not saying these are sensible thoughts but I have to admit that none of those scenarios are out of the question.
In fact, each of those scenarios is a very familiar groove and there was a definite risk of me and my ADHD brain slipping right into one of them.
This time, though, I was very determined not to let either of those stories come true.
Even though my back pain continued (with slowly diminishing intensity) right through this past week, I kept checking in with myself about when I’d be able to get back to my routine.
On Friday, I could feel clear improvement and Saturday was better again and Sunday was practically normal.
And on Monday morning, I asked myself the question I was asking daily before my back pain started:
“Am I exercising this morning or this evening?”
(A strong contrast with the question I would have asked myself during previous programs: “Am I exercising today?)
And, here’s the real victory as far as I am concerned:
It was EASY to get started.
I didn’t hesitate or try to negotiate with myself.
I didn’t have face any resistance at all – I just decided on morning and got started.
I felt a little rusty and my first set of each exercise was kind of slow.
But I did it. Carefully. Intentionally. With good form and while paying close attention to my back.
And I feel good. – physically and mentally – about getting back at it.
Now my worry is metaphorical – I don’t want to risk breaking my arm patting myself on the back.
😉
This photo is largely unrelated to the text except that I also had to take a break from walking Khalee for most of last week. My back was so uncooperative!
*My lower back is unhappy from time to time but it is usually short-lived and not quite this intense.
**To be clear, my program is two exercises a day for three days, repeat, active rest. I did not do 40 days of intense exercise in a row – it was gradual and had rest days built in.
Even before our changing climate made summer riding intolerable and sometimes just plain dangerous, I’ve been a fan of riding bikes in the fall. Yes, I struggle with the lack of daylight in the evenings, but I love the fall colours, the fresh feel in the air, and the cooler temperatures.
If you’ve been thinking about buying a bike or starting a regular bike commute, do it now. Don’t wait until spring. Fall is better.
It used to be that my preference for fall riding was primarily a comfort preference. Nobody wants to ride up hills in 35-degree heat with bonus humidity if they don’t have to. But that’s not what summer riding looks like anymore. It’s not just hot. Now, at least here in Ontario, we have heat warnings that stretch on for days, air quality alerts that turn a ride into a genuine respiratory risk, and those strange orange-grey scary skies that mean somewhere, hundreds of kilometres away, forests are burning. I used to plan summer rides around traffic and daylight. Now I plan them around smoke alerts and the air quality index, the way I’d check for rain.
Fall gives us that freedom back, at least for a while. The air clears and the heat breaks. It’s not just that fall is pleasant, it’s that fall is safe for riding distances in a way summer increasingly isn’t. That’s a genuinely new reason to love this season, and not one I would have thought about five or ten years ago when summers were more livable.
So here’s what I think, whether you’re four years into commuting or you haven’t bought a bike yet- don’t let the bad summer air or the very hot days talk you out of riding this autumn. You don’t need to put off your riding resolutions until spring. Fall is short but it’s a great time to ride. We’ve got clear air, rideable temps, and good light in the mornings before the time change. It’s time to get the lights and go now, while the getting’s good, instead of waiting for a spring that leads into another steamy summer we’ll need fall to recover from.
