It was sunny here last Friday so my husband spend a bit of time shoveling snow off of our patio – mostly to have something to do outside.
When it was sunny and spring-ish on Saturday, we wanted to have the patio door open so I dug the screen door out of the shed and had the brilliant idea (if I do say so myself) to drag a few patio chairs out at the same time.
Now it was sunny and relatively warm and we had chairs on the patio so it suddenly felt like our outdoor space was available to us again.
Obviously, my next step was to drag out a mat and do some yoga outdoors.
Did it feel strange to be doing yoga outside with snowshovels in the background? I’ll let you interpret that for yourself.
Image description: a selfie of me (a middle-aged white woman with a round face and light brown hair that is pulled back by a cloth band that happens to contain earphones) in a dark pink hoodie with the sun shining on my face, smirking at the fact that I am doing yoga outdoors while there are still necessary snow shovels propped against my house.
Was it weird to be lying on my mat in the sunshine while the grass in my backyard was still mostly covered in snow?
Well, it felt weird enough to take a photo of it at least…
Image description: a photo of my legs with the backyard full of snow visible in the background while propping myself up a little as I was lying on my mat on the patio. In the photo, I am lying on the ground with my right leg bent so the knee is toward the sky and the foot is on the ground. My left leg is bent so the outside of my foot is resting on the top of my right knee and my left knee is pointing to the left. You can see my blue yoga mat and part of the patio through the triangle formed by my legs. On my right is our patio mats, and more patio slats and beyond them you can see the railings, a whole bunch of snow, some leafless trees, the blue sky and our faded wooden fence.
But even though it felt kinda weird, it also felt great to be doing that slow, steady, focused movement in the bright sunlight and the fresh air.
Despite the snow, it felt like warm weather and more outdoor fun might be just around the (very long!) corner.
And if you saw this when you opened your eyes after Savasana, you might have believed it, too.
A photo of my view upwards from my yoga mat. Image description: a photo of bare tree branches with just a hint of growth on them with the bright blue sky in the background.
PS – Thanks to Steve for shoveling off the patio and setting this whole thing in motion.
I’m adding an island to my cycling list! This weekend I rode on Pelee Island. I joked that since I’m not riding in the United States these days, I needed to seek out the southernmost island in Canada.
I’ve got a bit of a thing about island bike rides. Bora Bora was the most exotic. Big Island is the one I ride around most often. And I love riding in Newfoundland. I’ve also biked on Fakarava, an atoll, a special kind of an island.
Why do I like biking on islands? First, there are very few cars on the small islands. Most people get there by ferry and locals appreciate the visitors. Also, I love riding within sight of the water.
I booked this trip the day Parks Canada opened up reservations for the national parks. I wanted to do an early trip and so searched for “roofed accommodation” as Parks Canada calls it. I reserved an Otentik in Camp Henry in Point Pelee National Park.
It’s a bit early for biking, brrr, and for seasonal migratory birds. But it was sunny and beautiful and not at all crowded. The temperature was 10 in the middle of the day, but it went down to 2 overnight. Most importantly, no rain. It was brilliantly sunny all day.
We’re at the time of year when the weather is either sunny and cool, or warm and wet. Here’s next week in Guelph. Warm and wet days ahead.
What’s an Otentik? They’re platform tents, kind of like yurts. Lux camping, but I think not quite glamping. The otentik had lights and heat and sleeping for six. But no bathroom and no water on the site.
They come with BBQs, and food is supposed to be prepared and eaten outside. There’s animal proof food storage locks on each site. That’s not for bear protection. Instead, the campground is home to many well-fed happy raccoons. One kept joining us at our table and looked like he expected his own plate. He wasn’t a scruffy urban raccon. He looked like a plump, happy cartoon raccoon.
Pretty much everyone staying in Camp Henry was up early in the morning with either binoculars, bikes or both. We had both, but to be clear we’re not birders, though our friend Rob, who visited is a retired mathematician and beginning birder.
We were definitely not Camp Henry’s usual demographic, though. We were very outnumbered by families with small children. That makes sense given that Otentiks sleep 6 with bunk beds. They’re not cheap, the Otentiks. I think we paid about $150/night. My adult kid Mallory was going to join us, but she got a better offer involving handbells in Mississauga.
It’s 15 km from the campground to the ferry to Pelee Island, about half of it on a gravel trail through the woods, which is about perfect as these things go. The trail is just hilly and curvy enough to feel exciting without really requiring any technical riding skills. The point is skinny enough that, though we were riding in the woods, we could see the lake almost the entire time.
The ferry to the island is about an hour and a half long. And yes, it serves coffee and sandwiches. We needed both.
The island itself is interesting. There’s a ferry from Ohio and one from Ontario. There are three bike routes around the island. The longest is 30 km. We opted for 20 km.
The island’s year-round population is about 230 people, and in summer, more than a thousand. It’s less developed than I thought it would be. The place we had lunch, The Dog & Goat Restaurant, is open year-round, but only on weekends until tourist season. We enjoyed a patio lunch along with some of the ferry staff.
There’s a school on the island. The internet says that they have two teachers and about nine pupils across all grades.
And when the ferry stops for the winter, and the lake freezes, as it did this year, residents rely on daily plane service to get on and off the island.
What else to tell you about biking there? It’s flat. Almost no traffic. Roads are a mix of pavement and gravel, but the pavement is pretty rough. Locals seemed pretty happy to see us. I think there’s a bike rental shop there in tourist season, but we’re early for that.
Total distance: 50 km (30 km to and from the ferry plus the medium route around the island)
That was likely too much riding for our first outdoor ride of the year (other than bike commuting and Zwifting). There was a lot of soreness and complaining when we were through. Sarah did make excellent BBQ grilled mushroom and spinach risotto for a recovery dinner. Yum!
I used to wonder why people had to work up to 100 km, why a century was a big deal. Back when I was riding regularly with a bike club, we started the season at 60 km, and then the next week 80 and then soon after that 100 km. Easy peasy. Now I don’t have that kind of mileage in the tank, and it’s also harder on the body when you’re not drafting, and you’re riding on gravel trails.
Anyway, I’ll end this rambly post by saying that we want to go back. Soon! We want to canoe in the marshes and explore the park more purposefully. This trip focused on the island, and next time we’ll focus on the point.
Trees over our campgroundOur otentik porchThe ferrySarah, Sam, Rob selfieSo sunny! Patio lunch on Pelee IslandStudying the bike mapsWe made it to the point Pelee island home of the lighthouseA bird approved bike stopSam and SarahThe island roadBike pathThe lookoutMy favourite treeThe wagons for getting stuff to your siteWant! It’s a LOLO bike rack.Bye Camp Henry! We’ll be back.
It was a busy week on the blog! Fourteen posts from nine writers, covering cycling, skating, swimming, volleyball, powerlifting, retirement, birthdays, diet culture, and the psychology of aging.
Here’s everything you may have missed:
Monday, April 6
The week opened with three posts. Cate kicked things off with Springing off the Couch, a reflection on a heavy winter, a cancelled gym membership, and the question of what your fitness identity is when you’ve slowed down — and whether following a five-year-old outside to blow bubbles counts as a start. It does. Then Sam posted Monday Morning Zwift, #30DaysOfBiking. And then Sam and Sarah co-wrote You’re Never Too Old! Sam and Sarah Take a Learn-to-Skate Lesson — about signing up for CanSkate, the joy of being a complete beginner, and leaning hard into EXPAND as a word of the year.
Tuesday, April 7
Nicole’s Musings about Menopausal Diet Culture is a post about diet culture and her mother’s lifelong relationship with her body. Christine’s Go Team 2026: Pare It Down offered warm, practical encouragement for anyone whose ADHD brain isn’t cooperating: scale down, meet yourself where you are, do the smaller version of things, and earn that gold star.
Wednesday, April 8
Mina wrote No Surrender: Dancing with Resistance and Acceptance as I Approach a New Decade — connecting “cognitive surrender” (giving in uncritically to AI reasoning) with the parallel temptation to accept aging’s limitations passively. Mina, turning 60 this year, is running a half-marathon every month in response. Also on Wednesday: Becoming a Raisin, written by Mal. That’s a post about discovering queer indoor beach volleyball in London, Ontario, joining a team called “Raisin Hell,” and finding that the right people make all the difference to team sports.
Thursday, April 9
Diane celebrated the reopening of her pool after nearly a year of renovations in My Pool (and My Community) Are Back!. Sam also checked in with Skating Lesson #2: a little less time clinging to the boards, some forward and backward skating, a lot of work still to do on stopping, and more stickers for the helmet.
Friday, April 10
Two posts on training and transitions. Martha wrote What Retirement Might Mean for Training — a thoughtful reflection on how work structure shapes fitness habits, and what it takes to build that structure yourself when it disappears. Diane checked in with Checking in on Bike Month — an honest first-week #30DaysOfBiking update.
Saturday, April 11
Nat’s What Buoys Nat When Navigating Mid-Life Chaos was a moving, practical post written from a hotel room during a family medical emergency — running through the strategies keeping her grounded: avoiding alcohol, pool time, crochet, her partner Michel, and looking hard truths directly in the eye.
Sunday, April 12
Catherine closed the week with Catherine’s Birthday Week in Review — she turned 64, celebrated with swim parties, three cakes, Pass the Parcel, and four dogs, and made an enthusiastic case for taking birthdays seriously at every age.
Themes of the week: Aging and identity ran as a thread through nearly every post this week — what it means to slow down, start over, resist, adapt, or celebrate where you are. Diet culture’s persistence surfaced alongside new joy in movement. Water appeared everywhere: pools reopening, lifeguard recertifications, swim parties, Zwift rides substituting for icy roads. And the #30DaysOfBiking challenge gave the week its cycling spine.
(Thanks, Claude for helping compile the “week in review.”)
Recently, I celebrated a birthday! I won’t tell you exactly which one, but suffice to say, I am confidently past the age of 30 (it took a few years actually to sink in). The day after my birthday, I spent 6 hours in a swimming pool to recertify my National Lifeguard certification.
Age-wise, I recognize that I am still young. But in lifeguarding, being in your thirties almost always puts you near or at the top age-wise. Not always, there are some excellent adult lifeguards (hi Diane!). Still, many people don’t keep their certifications once they are no longer working in aquatics and in my experience, there are very few adults working in aquatics. That’s a much longer blog post, one I am happy to write about if there is interest at a later date!
So what’s required to recertify or maintain your lifeguard certification? Every two years you need to complete a one-day recertification which includes showing that you can still meet the physical standards as well as completing practice situations of emergencies that may happen in an aquatic environment. If you are curious about what the standards are, you can view them online here.
For me, the challenge is the dreaded 400m timed swim. I hate it with a vengeance. I have failed recertifications previously due to this requirement. I have spent a lot of time complaining about it and debating its usefulness with other lifeguards. The requirement: swim 400m continuously using recognizable swimming strokes within 10 minutes. The standard pool is 25m so that’s 16 times across the pool for non-swimmers.
To be fair, I have always disliked it even as a young teenager. One of my earliest lifeguarding memories is failing my Bronze Star (very first course towards becoming a lifeguard) due to the endurance swim. I have lost out on job opportunities where they require you to complete it prior to even completing an interview. I have had staff training where we complete it, usually followed by my boss or supervisor making some sort of comment about how close I was to the time. As a teenager, my fastest ever time was just past the nine minute mark. As an adult, my fastest time in recent memory was 9:17.
Other people don’t mind the timed swim (hi again Diane!), possibly because they regularly swim longer distances or spend more time regularly lane swimming. For them, the physical challenge they likely hate is the 20-lb brick. In contrast, I love the brick and actually have my very own lifeguard brick sitting on my bookshelf at home! In case you are curious, the brick is used to practice retrieving a heavy object (i.e., a person) off the bottom of the pool and being able to carry it to the closest safe exit (side of the pool).
Anyway, I passed my recertification so I can now successfully call myself a lifeguard for another two years! Yay! As I said to Samantha “Successful NL recert! Even a year older I can still swim…”.
Last Tuesday, I tuned 64, a pretty innocuous age to become, but I celebrated it with gusto. Here are the numbers:
64 years old
19 adults at a total of 3 celebrations
4 dogs in attendance
3 cakes (lemon pound, chocolate mousse, chantilly cream with berries)
1 swim party at a local pool
1 game of Pass-the-Parcel
1 senior discount admission to aforementioned pool (savings of $2)
unknown number of candles on cakes
infinite fun
I love birthdays– mine, other peoples’, the general concept– I’m all in. I mean, what’s not to love? There are cakes, cards, sometimes presents, often games, people, often interesting food, and generally more hugs than usual.
Some of my favorite birthdays have involved activities. I’ve had skating parties, bowling parties, outdoor games parties, beach parties, and several swim parties. I’m now bullish on swim parties because it’s fun for all ages. My friend Rachel brought her 3-year-old Teagan, and my friend Roz brought her daughter Roxie. Because we spent all our swim time in the kiddie pool area, children and pool toys were swirling all around us. I personally enjoyed both to the maximum extent.
I’m also bullish on a birthday party game that’s new to me but a standard in lots of other places: Pass the Parcel. It involves wrapping one regular present, then adding layers of wrapping, with little gifts or sweets or messages in between the layers. You pass the parcel around with music playing, and when the music stops, the person with the parcel unwraps a layer. It’s a standard kids’ party game in the UK, but (like the swim party), I think it’s good for all ages. I plan to implement it at my nephews’ birthdays in June.
The addition of dogs at my birthday celebrations was new but most welcome. I met a new dog (hi Bindi!) and got to reunite with the others (Dixie, Ruby and Wylie). They patrolled the area for dropped food items, came over for pets, and looked very happy to celebrate with me.
Seriously, I think we underplay our birthdays in adulthood. It’s so nice to plan a fun break from the usual routines (or let others plan for you) and focus on the pleasures of the moment, enjoying the sweetness in all its forms.
So, in case I forget, dear readers– Happy Birthday to you all (in advance or after the fact unless it’s today).
I’m standing at the hotel room sink brushing my teeth when I catch the sideview of my naked body in the closet mirror door. A wave of disgust hit me. I was overcome with the urge to do something drastic. I breathed. I turned off the unflattering florescent light. Who installs these things in hotel rooms anyway?
I sat down and had a good cry. I was in a hotel room in Saint John, New Brunswick because of a family medical emergency. I so desperately wanted to feel a sense of control, a moment of peace. At the same time my youngest kid is living in a tent in British Columbia between jobs, again. I’m retiring in three weeks and it feels like my life is out of control, tumbling pell-mell down a hill that doesn’t seem to have an end in sight. So instead of hating on my body I just kept crying, recognizing the body dysmorphia for a displaced need for a sense of control.
Instead of spiraling I rehearsed all the things I am doing to feel a sense of control.
I continue to leave alcohol behind. When I feel this lousy I’m prone to drinking more and the one thing that won’t make me feel better is a hangover/headach.
Pool time
I love being in water and even though the pool is tiny I can still kick while holding the wall or swim into the output of the waterslide. I sleep much better for the time in the pool. I feel strong, confident and capable in my two piece meant for laps. I walked though the halls without a cover-up or shame. 50 something coping lady coming through!
Bring my Michel
Just having my special person around helped me feel grounded. A shoulder to snuggle to, a ready smile, and watching our favourite shows on a laptop like a couple of kids, it helped me feel a sense of normalcy.
Crochet
I tucked a skein of cotton under my arm and just made dishcloths. It’s really just a fancy fidget toy that gives you something at the end. It keeps me calm, helps me focus and stay in the moment.
Confront harsh truths
Seeing someone you love going through tough times is really humbling. Any illusion of control is quickly dispelled as events proceed. The urge to try and control others is huge for me. Internally I judge, blame and struggle to find meaning. Externally I keep breathing and focusing on what I can do in the moment. I don’t minimize or exagerate, I just stare the tough stuff right in the eyes and acknolwedge it.
Mine the past
A gem I unearthed in therapy was to look to my past for times I handled tough stuff well to help me have confidence on navigating life’s challenges. Many of those moments come from my fitness journey. From long bike rides to recovering from injury, my fitness activities have taught me I am capable and good at figuring things out.
Keep moving
Walking, stretching and strength training have really helped me feel a sense of peace and control.
Life keeps offering challenges and moments to rise to the occasion. I’m so grateful I’ve gathered many tools.
Week one is done. How did I do? Much better than anticipated, considering that I barely rode all winter, and the weather hasn’t been cooperating.
I missed April 1 because I didn’t even decide this might be a fun thing to do until at least April 2. I knew I wouldn’t be able to do the entire month because my (delayed) surgery is scheduled for April 20.
I did get out for the next three days. Then I missed Easter Sunday with the legitimate excuse that I had to cook the family dinner and haul it 25 km to my Mom’s (and bring home all the dirty dishes).
I got back at it Tuesday but missed Wednesday because of the weather and general tiredness. I couldn’t figure out the right clothes to go to work when it was -10 with the wind chill, but go home at +7.
I could have ridden to the hockey game that night and brought my bike home on the bus (or even ridden home) if a) I had remembered to charge my lights or b) remembered that busing home with my bike was an option. Oops.
By yesterday, I had the full-on cycling itch so went for a ride around the neighbourhood just for fun. It was my longest ride since last October and it felt great to be out admiring other cyclists, the runners, walkers, babies, dogs and geese enjoying the spring air.
A peaceful little island on the Rideau River. My bike is leaning against one of three red Muskoka chairs where you can sit and enjoy the view. If you know where to look, you’ll see the Peace Tower on Parliament Hill, and a common merganser swimming by.
I’ll probably only ride for another week this month, but I’m excited to feel brave enough to be out on two wheels again.
There was a time when I might miss a session or two at the gym, and I would feel relief and then dread. The time never got wasted—life demands have a way of filling calendar vacuums without issue—but the original purpose never got slotted in anywhere else, hence the later dread.
ID: a set of plates for powerlifting in blue, yellow and green are arranged on the floor. Photo by Victor Freitas on Unsplash
These days, I miss the gym if I skip a week. I miss the chalk, the warm-up, the feeling of strength as I approach the bar. Powerlifting training days anchor my week. As an independent consultant, my schedule is my own; there’s no nine-to-five at an office to provide structure to the week.
The two mornings I spend in training offer space to focus on physical effort vs. mental effort. That isn’t to say there’s no thinking involved in training. There is; it’s the proportion that is different.
I love the freedom. Outside of work deadlines, I am free to complete work at whatever time of day I choose. I learned early in my career as a consultant to block time for specific purposes; otherwise, it was too easy to fill my days with work and leave little time for family, fitness, leisure, and rest.
If I have to miss a day’s training, I try to make it up. Weather is an occupational hazard where I live and it’s not unusual to have late winter (or early spring) storms force schedule changes. Vacation periods are different; I’m usually travelling and walking thousands of steps a day compensates reasonably well for the lack of time at the bar.
As I contemplate retirement in the next six months, I’ve been thinking about how I will structure my week. Will I take out a membership to carry out self-directed workouts? Will I add something else to maintain cardiac health? Is it time to rescue my bike from its exile in the garage?
Or will I end up like the Dowager Duchess in Downtown Abbey, asking, “What’s a weekend?”
A still from Downton Abbey with Maggie Smith as the Dowager Duchess asking, what is a weekend?
I know I will have more time to try different things, and I’m looking forward to reengaging with activities I love but don’t have enough time for right now, like swimming, biking, and practicing yoga.
How about you? Have your fitness goals changed with retirement? Or are you thinking about the opportunities and delights awaiting you as you think about this next stage of life? Let us know in the comments.
MarthaFitat55 is looking forward to still being Fitat65!
I was a little less nervous and spent fewer minutes clinging to the boards during our second skating lesson.
Time flew by!
We skated forward and backward. Worked on stopping in both directions. Did some tricky (for me) glides on one foot. Then at the end, we tried going very fast and then stopping.
I liked the going fast bit. The stopping, not so much.
I loved watching our instructor skate. He turned beautifully and stopped quickly. So much grace. I reminded myself that he’s likely spent very many hours on the ice.
And I also had to remind myself that I can take as long as I want. I love the skill development and it’s okay if it’s slow.
Anyway, fun times! And more stickers for my helmet!
That’s me, Sam, in a red toque and my Creative Arts and Humanities hoodie, after the class.
For a blog post about our first skating lesson, see here.
The swimming pool where I was hired as a lifeguard closed in June 2025 for renovations. Tuesday we opened for the first time.
It was a bit chaotic as our head guard couldn’t make it in, and our Aquafit instructor had sent an email saying they couldn’t come, but it was on the long weekend so no-one saw the message and arranged for a replacement. Kudos to my boss, who became head guard plus Aquafit instructor for two classes, on top of her day job. All the equipment that had been put away months ago needed to be set up again. But we made it.
Being back is wonderful. There were so many people joyfully catching up with each other. So many huge smiles, hugs and “welcome back!” greetings.
There were people I have seen at other pools where I work; they had been anxiously checking in on when we would reopen. There were people I had missed and wondered how they were doing. And there were people I had completely forgotten about until they walked through the door. It felt like a big family reunion.
Welcome back everyone! I’m so happy you’re here.
Me with a goofy grin, inside the lifeguard office.
