One way or another, I’ve been heading into Algonquin for 20 years with a variety of friends, family, lovers and dogs. To say it is a sacred and integral part of my life is to understate what it means. The four years I’ve been away from it have been achy (not just because of the lack of Park, there’s been plenty to ache my heart). Yet, every summer that ended without me spending time in a tent on a lake with a canoe parked under a tree and a loon calling just around the corner, was another piece of grief. So this summer, as I reorganized my life, again, after so many losses, again, I messaged Sam and Sarah to see if they would have me on their trip with them.
In part, my failure to plan trips was due to my increasing trepidation about my body. Pandemic, menopause, auto-immune conditions all conspired to rob me of confidence that I could still endure and do this thing. So going with people who never gave it up, who knew they could adapt themselves, was heartening. I was very surprised at what I found out about my capacity.
First of all, the things that hurt while I’m not on a trip barely hurt while I was on the trip. Other things hurt of course, but I was so happy to feel tiredness in my shoulders and quads, knowing it was because I was moving, rather than the vague ache of. . .pick the poison. . .sedentariness, grief, age, decline, despair. . .it all adds up. In fact, there were ways I was stronger somehow. I have never given up yoga and Pilates and always focused on balance. I have this notion that I am no longer agile and that my core isn’t what it used to be but I was wrong. I think the last number of years I have spent in meditative stillness have conditioned something I never had before that practice became a huge part of my life. There is a core conditioning and balance along with a softness and awareness that means my body knows where it is and what it is doing. It knows what hurts in the way of “discomfort” and what hurts in the way of “don’t do that”. Discomfort is far more prevalent and discomfort I can handle.
I can feel that I’m at another crossroad, I could just stop pushing and drift to a customary decline or I could keep brushing up against my limits and seeing what beauty I can find. The verdant beauty of the earth expressed in Algonquin park is worth pushing for. I was so happy and confident about how this trip went that I booked more vacation and decided to bring friend of the Blog, Kim, on the trip she’s been pestering me for since we met. We will report back on Older Women In The Park, Susan and Kim edition, after Labour Day!
Sam
Like Susan, I love love love canoe camping. There’s something very special about it and no other sort of holiday scractches the same itch.
It’s effort and natural beauty, yes. It’s also no phones and hammock naps. I love swimming after a hard paddle. I love eating food that’s been cooked over the samp stove. I love basking on rocks. And I know it’s a minority view, but I love sleeping in tents.
I go at least once every summer, sometimes more. This summer this was our first trip but we have two more planned.
It’s the vacation that packs the most bang for buck in terms of rest and relaxation and the feeling of really getting away. Three or four days in the woods isn’t that much time, but it feels like a real holiday.
I also love that I’m still learning new things. This trip, for the first time, I carried my pack and my canoe. I learned that in some ways that’s easier. Yes, it’s a lot more weight but it felt better on my shoulders.
It was lovely to get out there again with Susan since that’s really how our friendship began, on a canoe trip in the woods.
She had the uncomfortable middle spot in our canoe but this inspired us to get a third removable seat.
Sarah
Seems like this was a bit of a different trip for everyone this year. Susan returning after a hiatus, and Sam growing in strength and confidence a few years out from knee surgery.
For me, the biggest hiccup this year wasn’t work, and it wasn’t the dramatic car part failure that meant switching cars and shaving a day off our trip. I’m currently dealing with a frozen left shoulder – not usually hugely painful but the restricted range of motion means I can’t reach up to hold the gunwales when the canoe is on my shoulders. This means that for the first time since we’ve been tripping, I would need to rely entirely on my companions to portage the canoe.
Fortunately, Susan and Sam were both more than up for the challenge and were more than capable at carrying and manoeuvring Sam’s unwieldy (when it’s not in the water) 17’ canoe. For someone who’s used to being self-reliant in the backcountry, it was a wonderful experience to be able to literally share the load this trip.
How many posts? More than 30 posts this month, through a run of heat and wildfire smoke that scrambled a lot of our workout plans — proof that showing up looks different every summer.
Who blogged? Sam, Diane, Christine, Nat, Catherine, Mina, Tracy, Martha, Elan, and guest blogger Chloë.
Recovery and what the body actually needs. A strong thread this month was on healing slower — and more honestly — than planned. Diane’s cardiac-rehab arc continued in Recovery is Weird, where her Garmin body battery finally climbed out of the “depleted” zone even as her intensity minutes stayed baffling. Mina’s Deny Pain, Heal Faster; if only … looked back at a shoulder injury that turned out to be several fractures and torn tissue, and wondered whether not knowing the full diagnosis for a month actually helped her heal with less fear and guarding. Nat worked through the final stage of a back injury in Nat, spinal movement and the Jefferson curl, learning to trust movements she’d been avoiding out of old caution. And Tracy’s C25K is taking longer than 9 weeks and that’s okay traced how a running program stalled out after she lost her mother, and how she’s found her way back to it.
Guest voices on bodies and belief. Chloë’s guest post What I thought my body was for was a standout: a lifelong “mind person” who took up jiu-jitsu in her forties and discovered a forty-year-old assumption about her own physical limits was never actually true — just an old, unquestioned story.
Heat, smoke, and summer plans going sideways. Climate kept elbowing its way into the blog’s usual summer rhythms. Sam’s summer movement plans go awry catalogued a cascade of cancelled rides, smoky air quality, a shuttered pool, and a too-hot dog walk, while Nat’s Summer’s in full swing and Nat couldn’t be happier found the bright side of an early-morning, heat-dodging routine of walking, biking, and lane swims. Sam and her crew still managed a four-day canoe camping trip into Algonquin (“Type 1.5 fun,” by consensus), and Catherine spent two weeks travelling and noticing the small sensory pleasures of summer — cold rivers, gravel underfoot, one very memorable watermelon slushie — in Mid-summer: a time for ordinary movement and extraordinary sensory experience.
Charity miles for good causes. Nat rode the MS Bike Tour (Today’s the day!), a weekend that’s become a fixture in her relationship with Michel. Diane paid forward her open-water swimming in Sometimes Good Things Grow, serving as a swim angel at Bring on the Bay for the fourth year running. And Sam wrapped the month gearing up for the Great Cycle Challenge in support of SickKids, after laying out her whole summer and fall of charity riding in Sam’s August Charity Riding.
Feminism, sport, and language in the news. Martha’s Blowing the Whistle on Gender at the World Cup celebrated the six women officiating the men’s tournament this year — a record, even if still a small fraction of FIFA’s roster. Diane’s My FIFA Protest Has Turned into Something Pretty Great turned frustration with lopsided World Cup coverage into a new love of the Northern Super League. And Martha’s Incompetent, blighted, senile took on the quietly damning language medicine uses for women’s bodies — incompetent cervix, senile vagina — and argued for language that doesn’t blame the patient for the problem.
Sam’s dean life meets the blog. In Is Looking at Art Really the New Running?, Sam brought her day job as Dean of Arts at Guelph into conversation with the blog, digging into the research behind claims that gallery visits can be as good for you as a run — and landing on cautious enthusiasm for treating art as part of a whole-life approach to health.
Trackers, streaks, and small daily wins. Elan reflected on five years of wearing an Oura ring in A Fitbit for My Finger, Five Years On, noting how her relationship to the data has quietly simplified over time. Sam kept her Zwift streak alive through the heat in Sam’s Zwift streak abides!, and the team traded reflections on their most valuable personal habits — sleep, meal planning, morning movement — in The bloggers and our best habits.
Checking in as a team. July 2 brought Happy Halfway Day!, the bloggers’ traditional midyear check-in on their words of the year, and Elan closed out the month interviewing Sam about her long-running “3 good things” practice in Positive is Practice, digging into negativity bias and what it means to notice the good on purpose.
Month-in-review posts are assembled by Claude with prompts from Sam and edited by Sam. If you spot any errors, let us know.
I’m a big fan of Danny MacAskill, a Scottish cyclist whose feats on his trials bikes confirm the unlikely hypothesis that bikes can perform on land, sea and air. His videos leave me breathless and dumbfounded, but also admiring of his planning, effort, and honesty about how hard it is to know the magnitude of the obstacles you’re facing, and then face them anyway.
Then in 2024, as the political atmosphere in the US became as scary as the previous pandemic one, I wrote about how Danny shows us how to take what comes: slowly when necessary, using acquired skills, trusting that your body has some knowledge that will help you, and using body english to manage unexpected twists and turns. How to make 2024 less scary, or how to move forward anyway
Now it’s 2026, and aspects of my life feel both scary and appalling, in macro and micro views. The US government is falling apart and taking too many people with it. My mother is falling apart and I’m trying to figure out how to respond. Details of life management have become harder, for macro and micro reasons.
I’m about to go on my first coffee ride in a while with my friend Janet, who’s meeting me in Arlington Center to cycle up the bike path to Lexington. I’ve done this ride dozens of times, and am looking forward to easy chat, easy pedaling, and yummy ice coffee. I remember how to do this, and am managing my anxiety with that knowledge along with the reward at the end– hanging with a friend, drinking coffee.
And I can take comfort in the fact that no part of my ride will go over water and require the skills you see practiced below by Danny MacAskill in his newest video– riding over water! I’ll just let you watch, heart in mouth, hoping against hope he doesn’t end up in the drink… If you want to read an interview with him about this course, check it out here.
First, the MS Bike Tour is not a race. Second, I do not have a lot of recorded data before 2024.
With those 2 things in mind, I was still thrilled to PB 80 km on Day 1 of the tour, beating my previous best by 3 minutes and 43 seconds.
The morning of Day 1. Michel on the left, John in the centre and I’m being silly on the right.
Also, shout out to John who was the first rider to cross the finish Day 1. He was so fast! No, it’s not a race, but it is also fun to go fast.
The conditions were ideal for me. A cool 18C to start. It was calm with only the faintest of breezes. This year’s route was straighter, flatter and on quieter roads. Those things help me do my best.
Michel rode with me. Now that I know more about how my left ear affects my balance I ride with Michel on my right.
I can hear him better and I get less dizzy. We had a marvelous day.
Day 1 completed. I take a selfie with Michel and our new friend Jersey.
Ride from the ride
After we finished the course we rode the 4 km home alongside our new friend Jersey. I was tired but not wrecked when I got home.
Magical Morning
Day 2 was another excellent day for riding conditions. I felt strong and decided to see how it would go without any solid plan.
The first hour I averaged 19.5 km/hr and I could feel my thighs pumping up.
Perpetual Motion
As the morning went on I got faster and faster. It does take me about an hour to be warmed up but this was next level.
We rolled through a little town with a speed monitor that flashed 24 km/hr. That felt good!
The possibility dawned on me
I decided in the last hour or so to see how fast I could go. It’s a descent to the finish and I was feeling it. It occurred to me I might break my personal record again. Maybe?
As we rolled towards the finish Michel told me I was much faster than Day 1. I laughed. SURE BABE, SURE!
He was right, of course. I completed 80 km 6 minutes and 23 seconds faster than the previous day. Thanks to leaving from the house my total distance hit 50 miles, which I PB’d by 9 minutes and 45 seconds.
The last time I felt this strong on the bike was in 2016 on the People With AIDS ride from Toronto to Montreal. I don’t have data from that time but I know I rolled consistently in the 20-22 km/hr range.
New Possibilities
Before last weekend I thought my fastest rides were behind me. Now I’m thinking they may very well be ahead of me and that feels pretty exciting.
Some of our Canada Life Cycles team celebrating an incredible two days of riding.
It’s always a group assignment
While my watch only records my speed, my results are because of a whole bunch of people.
The event organizers and volunteers ensured each stop for water, food and toilets could be done quickly and safely. Thank you!
My physiotherapist had helped me heal from many injuries and empowered me with strategies to be strong and steady on the bike. Thank you Emily for helping me ride injury free!
My teammates provided company and encouragement on both days. I got to ride most of Day 2 with Tracy & Rosie, which was a rare treat. Rosie powered through a mechanical like it wasn’t even happening. Tracy was rocking a new ride. It was great!
And, of course, Michel there by my side for both days. We laughed. He shared snippets of Werner Herzog’s autobiography. He was listening to the audiobook read by Werner himself. There’s something really entertaining about his grim determination when you yourself are feeling determined.
A great weekend
So, long story longer, it was a marvelous weekend of riding and spending time with great people.
Michel and I are now plotting how we can do more rides together very soon.
All of us who swim, do Aquafit, or just enjoy hanging out at the beach or pool with loved ones, are grateful that you are there to help keep us safe.
A woman wearing a lifeguard pinny, sunglasses and a hat sits atop a large lifeguard structure at a beach. There are palm trees in the background and two red rescue tubes at the base of the structure.
I haven’t figured out the full plan yet, but I’m starting strong: the first holiday Monday with Sarah, then Tuesday morning before work with Abby, my Tour de Guelph Gryphons teammate. Neither ride is huge on its own — but they add up fast, and that’s the idea.
Cancer is the leading disease-related killer of Canadian kids. Over 1,700 are diagnosed every year. Kids should be living life, not fighting for it.
Click here to donate — every dollar supports SickKids Foundation’s work on care, treatment, and finding a cure.
Here’s my weekday commuting bike and my smile yesterday at the cool, clear summer air.
I interviewed Sam about her regular habit of sharing “3 good things” from her days on her personal social media feed.
EP: You often post “3 good things” on your personal socials along with photos. How long have you been doing this, and has your reason for still doing it changed since you started?
SB: I started six years ago in November. November is gratitude month, and it’s also my least favourite month of the year, so I figured it couldn’t hurt to look around and find things to be grateful for.
I’m not sure exactly when I started doing it year-round, maybe two or three years ago? I liked it so much I didn’t want to stop when November was over.
Why do I keep it up? I like the way it makes me feel. But also, and I notice this more these days, the practice itself trains me to start looking around for good things.
EP: This tracks with something I heard on a recent podcast about negativity bias. We’re wired to overfocus on the bad (to the point where we overlook the good), but intentionally practising the positive can help us rebalance. The researcher called it gain-framing, seeing experiences through a positive lens or treating setbacks as opportunities to learn. Does that match your practice?
SB: Yes, that definitely matches my experience. I do a bit of only good things and a bit of reframing. I’ve got a close family member in the hospital. Not good. But good that they’re getting the excellent medical care they need.
A woman in glasses looks through her fingers Ina square frame shape
I also share bad news. I’m one of those academics, for example, who posts about rejections. It’s not just good news. Junior scholars need to see that rejection is part of the process. I also share when I stop doing things, so it doesn’t always look like I’m doing more new things without stopping others.
EP: The podcast researcher talked about the value of sharing positive experiences with others, which reinforce them and connect us to others through that sharing. Do you think about how others receive your posts? How do you feel sharing them?
SB: I do worry sometimes that people think it’s all good things all the time, but there’s a lot of bad at work that I can’t share on social media for a whole host of reasons. Ditto bad personal news, which often involves other people, and sometimes it’s their story to tell, not mine. Sometimes I find it hard to get the valence right.
EP: It sounds like you are aware of thr bad, but it’s not always shareable. So that’s another reason why you just choose to focus on the good. And maybe that you don’t want the terrible to stop your from seeing the good?
SB: I find that seeing the good helps me understand what we’re struggling for, why it all matters. The world is a beautiful place.
We were canoe camping this past weekend and I loved the light on the water, the sounds of the birds, watching a hummingbird on the flowers, swimming with loons, basking on warm rocks after swimming in a cold lake, the taste of hot tea and cookies, swaying in a hammock and napping. So many good things.
EP: How would you recommend that others try out sharing “3 good things,” and what to do on the days when thry feel negativity bias creeping in?
SB: To be honest, I’ve skipped 3 or 4 days over the years where things were too bleak to do it. I think that’s okay. That’s life.
I keep a Google doc on my phone, called Three Good Things, for myself. But I also share on social media for the habit and the accountability. For a time I thought about starting a blog just focused on tracking workouts and sharing good things. You could do that too.
Listen to “Stepping Out of the Shadows” from Hidden Brain, hosted by Shankar Vedantam, with psychologist Alison Ledgerwood (University of California Davis).,who explores negativity bias, the deeply human tendency to hold on to what went wrong and overlook what went right. In the episode, Ledgerwood unpacks why our minds are drawn to losses and threats, and what can be done to rebalance our attention.
I have fallen into a joyful corner of Threads that is full of adults learning to swim. Some are nervous, some are looking for stroke improvement tips, and some are absolutely bursting with pride at how much they have learned so far. Interestingly, most are Black women.
At the other end of the spectrum, I went for a swim at the lake this week with some experienced old friends. And by old, I truly mean old. At 65, I was one of the youngest swimmers there.
But also friends of long-standing. I have been swimming with some of them for over two decades. Others are newer friends to me, but there were fun overlapping circles of acquaintanceship.
A slightly out-of-focus selfie with most of the gang after our swim and brunch. I have known Lois, far right, since I first started swimming in Ottawa in 2003. It was through her that I met Penny (centre), and through Penny I met Debbie (in the purple flowered shirt). Penny and Lois swim at the same club. Penny and Lois also swim at the same pools as Theresa (in green), and Marina (front) on non-club days. I recognized Marina and Theresa as I have lifeguarded when they were swimming, but didn’t know their names.
That swim was part of my practice to complete my fitness test so I could return to work. We swam about 2 km, and I did as many stretches of head’s up freestyle as I could. I hate sprinting head’s up freestyle in the required speed with burning of a thousand fiery suns.
Friends, I did the test on Tuesday and passed! (By the skin of my teeth). Soon I’ll be able to see all these women from my usual spot on the lifeguard chair, when I’m not swimming alongside them to keep working on getting faster.
Best of all, I’ll be able to start teaching again, and encouraging more adults and kids to enjoy the sport that we can continue to enjoy well into our senior years.
