Crossfit

More on the puzzle of gender and the problem with pink

These aren’t complaints about CrossFit per se. CrossFit is, I think, the most women friendly fitness environment in which I’ve found myself. Yay! Women and weights.

But CrossFit doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Some suppliers of fitness equipment, some coaches, and some fitness programs inevitably pick up gendered assumptions that frame the world around us.

I think these assumptions hurt women, hurt men, and hurt those who don’t identify within gender binary at all.

With those disclaimers, here are three pet peeves.

1. Why, why, why on earth are the lightest kettle bells pink? It doesn’t matter where you go, the lightest weights come in the colour pink. It’s as is the colour pink is code for light weight. Though really “pink” is code for “girl” and “girl” is code for “lightweight.” (See What’s So Bad about Pink Anyway?)

(Why, why, why are the shorter skipping ropes pink too?)

Rhetorical questions. I know the answer. For once, just once, I’d like to see heavy weights in the soft pink colour.

For me, I don’t really care. I don’t even use the pink kettle bells but I wouldn’t mind if I did. But the association with smaller weights and weaker persons with femininity bugs the crap out me.

I do feel sorry for the small guys, some of whom have baggage around masculinity, and who use the pink ropes (because they’re short not because they’re girls) and maybe even pink kettle bells, again because they aren’t that strong, not because they are particularly feminine.

2.  Gender stereotypes can come up in coaching too. See Coaching 101: Your Words Speak Volumes. Rebecca Bilodeau writes about her experiences with a coach who assumed that being female meant lifting light:

“On this particular day, we were getting ready to do 10×3 of back squats to get as heavy as possible. Great, I thought. I love me some heavy squats! I’ve got that big strong butt and great legs that I never truly appreciated until I started CrossFit. I could squat all day, every day, if my legs would let me. Needless to say, I came to the box pumped.

Our box has only three squat racks. No big deal. We usually just separate and get our squat on, taking turns as necessary and adjusting the weight for each other as we go along. We work well perfectly fine and push one another as we see fit. We are really a self-sufficient sort of group, but here were the coach’s directions:
“Heavy lifters on this rack, other guys here, and all the girls over there.” Okay, so we may have ended up divided that way anyways, but all I could think was, “Wait, where do I go? What if I’m a heavy lifter and a girl… Where’s that squat rack?””

In other gyms, I’ve heard the lighter bars referred to as the “girls’ bars”  and the heavy ones as “boys’ bars.” But I should say I’ve never ever heard that at my CrossFit gym.

And again, what if there is man who lifts lighter than the women, now he’s a girl? That just isn’t right.

3.  In CrossFit box jumps the women’s workouts call for 20 inch boxes and the men get the 24 inch boxes. (Confession: I can only do box jumps on a 16′ box. On even the 20 I’m reduced to stepping up and jumping down.) But why isn’t it by height? There are some tall women who make the 20 inch box jump look easy and some short guys who really struggle. How about a height cut off rather than a different requirement for men and for women. See Why “women’s specific” anything is likely a bad idea. The current system isn’t good for men or for women.

We can do it. Look ma, no pink!

racing · Rowing · running

Beginning all over again

I ran 2.5 km the other Thursday night, before rowing, as my warm up. How’d it feel? Great. This week I ran 4 km a few times. I’m on week 3 of my return to regular (not just dog jogging) running. Still feeling good.

However, can I also say running is hard? Really hard.

Running is the hardest kind of exercise that I do. I know that’s not true for everyone. I row with a friend who said that of course I can run 10 km since I can row for an hour. She can run 10 km and even a half marathon with remarkably little training. She’s not speedy, she’s in it for the finishers’ medals and will blog about that here later, I hope. But she’s a terrific runner. I’m not.

I run. I can even sometimes run fast. But it’s tough.

It’s running that convinced me that crosstraining is a myth. (“Myth” is a bit strong, I know.)  Running makes me a better cyclist, in some ways. But no matter how fast I get on the bike, running remains tough. Riding never seems to help my running. Ditto, I suspect, rowing. More than anything, for me, running is its own thing.

How much harder is running for the larger runner? Try poking different numbers in on the treadmill and see how the calorie count comes out. That’ll give you some idea.

The cool thing is, having done it before, going from no km to 10 km, I know I can do  it again. Aiming for no injuries this time round. Wish me luck!

Past posts about running:

My winter running plan

Six things about running

diets · eating · weight loss

“Vegan” Is Not a Fad Diet

cake I’m vegan. And that’s my birthday cake (back in September) from my favorite vegan restaurant.  It’s bar none the very best chocolate cake I’ve ever eaten.  And it’s vegan. No eggs, no dairy.

You’ve probably heard by now about Beyonce’s 22-Day Vegan Challenge with her hubby, Jay Z.  I heard about it when it was announced, and I’m hearing regular updates about how it’s going for them on what is often described as their “health kick.”  The Daily Mail (I know) reported that one week into her vegan “health kick,” Beyonce is flashing her abs.

Everywhere I turn these days I’m reading about how losing weight is one of the big reasons to become vegan.  It’s starting to drive me to distraction!

See that chocolate cake? It’s not health food.  Vegan is NOT a sure fire way to drop pounds.  Losing weight isn’t even the best reason to eat a vegan diet.  Why? Because french fries and potato chips are vegan. That cake is vegan.  Coconut milk ice cream is vegan. Vegans, no less than anyone else, don’t just eat fresh fruit and vegetables.

Now I think it’s a good thing that you can still find all sorts of indulgences and follow a vegan diet. But what that means is that you need to do a lot more to drop pounds than switch to a plant-based diet.  I myself didn’t lose a single pound when I become vegan.  Nothing. Nada. Rien. 

So why become vegan?  The two primary reasons have nothing to do with your health: 1. animal welfare reasons and (2) environmental reasons.  I won’t go into all the details here, but billions of animals a year suffer unspeakably and unnecessary cruelty in industrial farming.  I’m not talking about cruelty inflicted over and above the regular conditions of their lives. I’m talking about the very conditions they live in day to day.  If you’d like to know more about that, read Eric Schlosser’s Fast Food Nation or Peter Singer’s Animal Liberation or even just go to the Vegan Society website.

Livestock farming is bad for the environment and the atmosphere. It’s a huge contributor to global warming.  There’s that great statistic: a vegan who drives a Hummer makes a smaller carbon footprint than a meat-eater who drives a Prius.  Yes, there are other variables, but there is no question that mass livestock production is hurting the planet.

And yes, there’s lots of evidence that it’s good for your health. But there are still all kinds of not-great-for-your-health choices available on a vegan diet. So there is no automatic free pass or anything like that, and some things, such as lean protein, become a bit more challenging (not impossible with some knowledge).

Back to the 22-Day Challenge that Beyonce and Jay Z are on.  If the reasons for being vegan are compelling (and they are!), then being vegan for 22 days just isn’t quite “getting it.”  I mean, I’m glad that Beyonce and Jay Z are bringing some good press to being vegan. They’re even saying they feel great and it’s not difficult. Lucky for vegan PR that they aren’t having a negative experience — if it was a struggle and they had an adjustment period where they felt bloated or tired what have you?  Animal welfare and the environment would still matter.

But you don’t hear about animal welfare or the planet when you hear about their vegan challenge.  Given the facts, it’s just irresponsible to promote veganism without even mentioning these other reasons for being vegan.

Most ethical vegans extend their vegan choices beyond their diet, making an effort to avoid animal products in other areas of their lives. You’re unlikely to find a leather couch in a vegan home, and if you look on-line you can find all sorts of vegan footwear.

Another misconception that needs clearing up and now’s as good a time as any to do it: being vegan doesn’t mean being gluten free.  Gluten is from wheat; wheat is not an animal product. Therefore, you can be vegan and not be gluten free.  It’s very disappointing to someone like me who loves baking to go to a bakery where all the vegan options are also gluten free. Worse yet if they’re also raw.  There are raw vegans, but most vegans are okay with cooked food. Why? Because there is no animal welfare or environmental reason to go raw.

Here’s a nice article where the author promotes the idea of veganism as a lifestyle change, not a diet.

There are also successful vegan athletes like ultra-triathlete Richard Roll (author of Finding Ultra) and the no-meat athlete, Matt Frazier (author of The No-Meat Athlete). Although both emphasize “plant-strong” over “vegan” (see Sam’s posts about the difference here and here) the point is, you can be a vegan athlete.

If you’re interested in learning more about becoming vegan, in addition to the resources above that outline some of the ethical and environmental reasons, I found these books to be really helpful:

The Ultimate Vegan Guide by Erik Marcus

Main Street Vegan: Everything You Need to Know to Eat Healthfully and Live Compassionately in the Real World by  Victoria Moran and Adair Moran

Becoming Vegan: The Complete Guide to Adopting a Healthy, Plant-Based Diet by Brenda Davis and Vesanto Melina

And some good vegan cookbooks:

Veganomicon by Isa Chandra Moskowitch and Terry Hope Romero

La Dolce Vegan by Sarah Kramer

The Happy Herbivore by Lindsay Nixon

Bon appetit!

 

 

 

Uncategorized

Keeping bones strong

It can be hard to care about your bones. You can’t see them (no one ever compliments you on your strong bones!) and you can’t even feel them. Yet bones are the frame on which the rest of your body depends.

And I know the frame image isn’t right. We don’t have a skeleton inside us, as if of made steel. Instead, bones are part of us, living things and like the rest us, they grow and then decay. Sad truth but there it is.

How much of our focus on our heath is misplaced because it’s on outer beauty when inner health and strength matters more?

That reminds me of the line from the 1988 David Cronenberg movie Dead Ringers. One of the twin gynecologists says, “Surely you’ve heard of inner beauty . . . [we ought to have] beauty contests for the inside of bodies.” And maybe if we did, we might care more about our bones.

Bone density matters, especially for women. Many older women suffer from osteoporosis and they may not be doing the kind of exercises that help. Many older women also fear falling and so avoid exercise.  Or they’ve been told that high impact exercise is bad for their joints. But avoiding exercise is a very bad idea. So too is avoiding impact. It’s not even clear that joint health is hurt by exercise. (See Aging and the myth of wearing out your joints.)

I started reading up on bone density and bone strength after a series of stress fractures in my early forties.  They were your standard issue tibial stress fractures, left shin, both times, brought about by running too hard, too far, too soon. Each time I tried to increase my distance past 10 km, I’d get a stress fracture which kept me from moving at all for 6-8 weeks. I’d end the summer with a disabled parking pass, no running, cycling, or walking for me.

You can read about runners and stress fractures here.

On doctor’s orders I nervously reported for bone density testing.  It was the first time in my life I was asked if I still menstruating. Of course I was, I was 42. The question shocked me. But it turns out the doctors have good reasons for asking. Often osteoporosis is first detected when a woman breaks a bone. And early menopause is a significant risk factor.

Excellent news, the scan was great. I have rock star bone density, it turns out. At least I did then.

That is excellent news because you can’t build bones in your forties. Youth is the time to build bones, and from 30 on the best you can aim for is maintaining the bone strength you’ve got.

It’s especially important to start menopause with strong bones.

For women, menopause causes an extreme drop in estrogen, and their greatest bone loss occurs within the first ten years after menopause. That’s why many physicians recommend that women get a bone-density scan when they turn 50 or when they enter menopause, whichever comes first. That first test acts as a baseline. From About Osteoporosis

The more I read about bone health, the more I realized I was an unlikely candidate for early osteoporosis. I didn’t fit the profile. Why not?

First, I didn’t have early menopause.

Second, I’m not thin. This was the first time I’d heard of there being an advantage to being my size and being physically active.   When it comes to osteoporosis, thin women have a greater risk than heavy women.  That’s true even for women who are naturally petite. See Just Being Naturally Thin May Raise Risk Of Osteoporosis In Women (Science Daily). The hypothesis is that the bones aren’t strengthened because they aren’t carrying a sufficient load. I like the idea that just moving about, for me and my bones, counts as a kind of weight training.

Third, if naturally thin women are at increased risk of osteoporosis, the story gets worse if you got thin through calorie restriction. I don’t have a history of severe dieting and eating disorders. Women with eating disorders often lose so much weight their periods stop and they experience the bone loss usually associated with aging. “In terms of bone health, a too-thin woman in her 20s looks a lot like a post-menopausal woman in her 60s. The only real cure is for the young woman to gain enough weight to start menstruating again, and then to maximize her bone density while she can — that is, until about age 30, when bone density reaches its peak.”

Finally, I wasn’t a teenage athlete. In young women athletes, low bone density can be part of what’s known as female athlete triad. Female athlete triad is a combination of three conditions: disordered eating, amenorrhea, and osteoporosis. For more information see here and here. This is especially problematic because (reminder to young women!) you only build bone until about age 30.

Exercise is the best way to keep bones strong.  What are the best kinds of exercises to improve or maintain bone density?

The best exercise for your bones is the weight-bearing kind, which forces you to work against gravity. Some examples of weight-bearing exercises include weight training, walking, hiking, jogging, climbing stairs, tennis, and dancing. Examples of exercises that are not weight-bearing include swimming and bicycling. Although these activities help build and maintain strong muscles and have excellent cardiovascular benefits, they are not the best way to exercise your bones. Exercise for Your Bone Health

Another argument for standing rather than sitting, as if we needed one.

The other reason I was concerned about bone density was because I was reading lots about cycling and bone health. That’s the one risk factor I do have! It turns out that cyclists are at high risk for bone density problems.

Here’s why:

“Your body is continuously renovating your skeleton, absorbing old bone tissue and replacing it with calcium that helps form new bone. Physical activity that includes impact and vibration (running, strength training, even walking) stresses the tissue and triggers the rebuilding process. Cycling, however, has no such effect. Thanks to its seated, off-the-ground riding position, it actually minimizes impact on your skeletal system. And there’s a chance that the more you ride, the greater your risk of losing bone mass, says Aaron Smathers, MS, lead author of the aforementioned study…..

Complicating the issue is yet another by-product of cycling: sweat. You can lose up to 200 milligrams of bone-building calcium in an hour as you soak your jersey on a hot ride. Put in long training miles each week and ride a century now and then, and you’ll deplete your body of so much calcium that it becomes harder and harder to replace, especially as you age. You can counteract this by fueling up on foods with plenty of calcium, but you may need more than just dietary adjustments.” Frame Work: Build Bone Strength

Now, I’m not only a cyclist. I do CrossFit, I play soccer, I run a bit, and I do Aikido and it looks like that’s a good thing. Ironically though I could imagine stopping those other things and continuing to ride a bike into old age. I suspect I’m not alone that in looking for sports without an expiry date and swimming and cycling are both ones that leap to mind.

I joke about a list that I keep of things I’m saving for my senior years. Apologies if you do these things while young. This is just about me. My list includes cruises for vacations and television for entertainment and walking for exercise. I also imagined swimming and cycling (on a good sturdy about town bike) into my 80s. Now it looks like, for bone health, I should keep lifting things too.

See you in the weight room!

athletes · body image · competition · eating · Rowing

Lightweight rowing and disordered eating

Weight categories in sports are tough. See Audery’s post on kids and weight categories in martial arts. And I’ve written about why the Athena category in running and in multisport events is fairly useless.

Sports introduce weight categories when there are size differences that result in performance differences such that putting differently sized people up against another wouldn’t be fair. Think boxing. Or weight lifting. Larger people have an advantage.

Weight categories have been employed for centuries as a method of equalizing competition in a number of different sports. In sports where the physical strength of the combatants was understood to be crucial to their ultimate success, weight categories recognized the fundamental principle that, all things being equal, in strength sports the larger athlete was likely to be the stronger athlete. Stated in the alternative, where two athletes possess equal technical skill in a strength-oriented sport, the larger athlete is more likely to overpower the smaller athlete. FAQ, World of Sport Science

That’s true too in rowing. It’s better to be big. Rowing just has two categories, light and heavy. See LiveStrong on the difference between lightweight and heavyweight rowing

What are the categories?

“At the international and college level, a male rower is not eligible to compete in lightweight rowing if he weighs over 160 lbs. A woman cannot row in the lightweight division if she is over 130 lbs. While a good lightweight rowing team can sometimes beat a heavyweight team, the sport of rowing favors the tall and strong athlete. Height gives a rower more leverage to propel the boat through the water. Strength gives a rower the explosive power to propel the boat faster.”

(The subject of what happens when a lightweight boat does beat a heavyweight boat is a frequent source of humour on rowing tumblrs.)

Why have weight categories in rowing?

“According to the Federation Internationale des Societies d’ Aviron, or FISA, the international governing body of the sport, lightweight race was introduced “to encourage more universality in the sport, especially among nations with less statuesque people.” Lightweight events were introduced at the World Championships in 1974 for men and 1985 for women, and it joined the roster of events at the Olympic Games in 1996.”

What are the worries about weight categories?

“The practice at some colleges of using heavyweight rowers to drop sufficient pounds to qualify for the lightweight boat is controversial on two grounds. First, drop-down rowers replace “normal” lightweights in the boat, cutting opportunities for smaller rowers to compete. Second, allegations of eating disorders among both women rowers and male drop-downs have been widespread. A female college rower at the Everything 2 website tells of men “living on carrots and multivitamins for weeks while doing full workouts every day,” in a misplaced attempt to demonstrate discipline toward their sport.”

To this, I’d add a third worry. There are people in the middle who don’t fit into either group.There are, for example, women who are larger than lightweight and who can’t weigh down but who aren’t tall enough to be competitive in the open class. I met a woman recently who at 5’7 was throwing up her hands ( and her oars) and switching to cycling. She couldn’t get light enough for lightweight, despite pressure, but at her height she is nowhere near large enough make it in heavyweight competition.
You might think lightweight rowing made it possible for small women compete in rowing but in fact competitive lightweight rowers are usually well above average height for women. They’re not short by any means. They’re thin but not small.  It’s shocking to think that if I’d discovered rowing earlier and if I was any good at it (two big “ifs”) that I would have been pressured to row lightweight. The last time I weighed in the 130s was grade six! And I’m in the middle, clearly not tall enough for heavyweight.Is losing weight to row lightweight a successful strategy? Not always.  The issues are very complicated. To get a sense of the debate see National Eating Disorder Awareness Week: Lightweight Rowing

“One study that’s cited a lot when talking about weight loss and lightweight rowing is this one. Some of you guys have asked me about this too – can a smaller heavyweight rower lose weight and be competitive as a lightweight? This study found that it is possible, but what I think is worth noting is that the “heavier” heavyweight athletes lost more muscle than fat mass over the course of the 16 weeks this study was conducted. 16 weeks…that’s roughly four months. Winter training through mid-spring season is about four months, so think about that if you are considering making the transition. Preparation must start well before the time you plan to fully compete as a lightweight. The rowers who suffered the greatest loss in muscle mass weren’t able to be competitive as lightweights because of the drastic reduction in power output, energy, etc.”

Further reading:

 Prevalence of eating disordered behavior in collegiate lightweight women rowers and distance runners.

This study examined eating behavior in collegiate women lightweight rowers, runners, and controls. It was hypothesized that rowers would show an increased prevalence of restraint in their eating behaviors, but not probable eating disorder cases as compared with runners or controls, because they are required to make their target weight but are discouraged from further weight loss.

http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/11176143

Guest Post

Forest Bathing (Guest Post)

forest
The beauty of the forest

When Sam recently asked if I would write a guest post for this blog, my first response was, I don’t work out that much. Then Sam pointed out that I hike in the woods most weekends, and I realized that I’m probably more fit – and fit in non-traditionally female ways – than I give myself credit for.

Raised a city kid, I’ve been hooked on being out in nature since I was about eight or nine years old. I grew up in the suburbs, near a conservation area – my first elementary school backed onto it, as a matter of fact – and I loved regular class expeditions down the ravine and into the woods where we might see snakes, frogs and turtles, as well as Ontario’s provincial flower, the trillium.

One of my best friends lived right beside the ravine, and we would play for hours among the trees, making up stories, building makeshift forts out of dead branches, and concocting pretend meals out of tree leaves and wild plants.

When I was about 12, I had the chance to take a guided hike with a naturalist one weekend at a family camp-out. I was fascinated by the different species of trees and birds – many whose names I’d never heard of.

Fast forward about 17 years; I’d moved from my childhood home and was now living near a river. I’d just lost my brother to suicide, and I was devastated and suicidal myself in the aftermath of his passing.

That first summer after my brother died, I made a point of visiting the woods along the river every night after work, slowly pacing the winding footpaths and wading through the shallows to a small island in the middle of the river where I would sit and cool my feet in the rapids, away from the prying eyes of the world.

I saw herons and swallows, in addition to the ubiquitous mallards and Canada geese. I picked up smooth round stones along the riverbank, and occasionally found worn clamshells or driftwood that I took home with me to remind me of my hikes.

After a few months, I realized something miraculous was happening. The woods and the river seemed to be healing me. I didn’t know why or how – to this day I still don’t – but no matter how crazed or anxious I felt during the day, being in nature every evening calmed and restored me. I felt like I reconnected with my true self on every one of my hikes.

Fast forward another 17 years to the present day, and I still hike through the same woods of my childhood, or along the river paths of my young adulthood. I’ve learned the names of most of the trees and plants; if I’m lucky, I still see snakes and frogs. I know where the river bass spawn, and where the ducks nest. I know where there are wild apples, tart and hard.

As woo-woo as it sounds, the trees have become my familiar friends. I touch them when I pass; I notice where beavers have gnawed at their trunks. I know where to find a firefly show that would make you believe in fairies. I lie on the forest floor on perfect autumn Sundays every October, and weep at the fleeting cathedral canopy of red and gold overhead.

A couple of years ago I read about something called “forest bathing” on Mark Sisson’s Primal living blog, Mark’s Daily Apple. Suddenly, my miraculous forest healing had a name.

“Time in a wild setting, studies indicate, unleashes a powerful cascade of hormonal and cellular responses. Salivary cortisol, for example, dropped on average 13.4% when subjects simply looked at a forest setting for 20 minutes. Pulse rate, blood pressure and sympathetic nerve activity decreased as well. Even more remarkable is the significant – and lasting – impact on so called “natural killer” cells, powerful lymphocytes known to fight off infection and attack cancer growth. A longer three day trip in the forest with daily walks resulted in a 50% rise in NK activity as well as an increase in the number of NK cells! The forest exposure, researchers found, also resulted in increased anti-cancer protein expression.”

Are we hard-wired to respond positively to nature? I have no idea. But it works for me.

I love that my hiking gear needs are few: a sturdy pair of rubber boots (I like to go where there’s water, and I hate wet feet), and a sturdy pair of pants are all I need (I’ve been known to go off trail – shh! – and sweats or yoga pants can’t take the assault of grabby undergrowth or thorns). Layers on top, that peel on and off quickly, keep me warm or cool enough. I’m also usually never without a camera or few (including a waterproof point-and-shoot for rainy days or river wading), because I love photographing what I see.

I hike in nature because it’s the one place where I feel most like myself. I hike because it’s never boring. I hike because it gets me away from city life and my daily worries. I hike because I’m addicted to the smells and the sounds and the exquisite beauty I see everywhere. I hike because when I leave the woods, I feel better than when I entered. I feel, dare I say, like I’ve been home… and leave regenerated enough to bear the “real world” once again.

___

Michelle Lynne Goodfellow works in nonprofit and small business communications by day, and also enjoys writing, taking photographs, making art and doing aikido. You can find more of her work at michellelynnegoodfellow.com. Michelle has also written about her breast cancer journey on her blog, Kitchen Sink Wisdom.

look at you · reader profiles

Look at You! #1

We have such great readers!  Two people stepped up with “Look at You” submissions after yesterday’s call. So today, we launch our new regular feature with profiles of Stephanie Drago and fitness blogger Robin Kadet.

Stephanie Drago

Stephanie Drago

I’ve been a fan of the blog for probably most of 2013.  As I write this, I am nine days away from turning 40, so stories you tell and the adventures you have give me ideas of what is yet to become for me!

As you can tell from the photo, my big hobby is running.  This is a snapshot a friend took at the San Diego Rock & Roll half marathon in June 2013.  2013 has been a big running year for me, since it started with the Carlsbad marathon back in January.  While that was my sixth marathon, it was the first I’d run in 9 years, and I can say that training, racing and recovery has been a little bit different with nine extra years under my belt.  I am friends with a foam roller in ways that I never thought would be necessary when I was in my 20s!  Training just started for my next marathon, which will be Los Angeles in March.  I said I would retire from marathons by doing one when I turned forty, but anyone who runs with a group knows how peer pressure works, so we’ll see how that goes.

When I am not running I enjoy other activities like yoga, spinning and Pilates.  I unfortunately don’t do as much strength training as I would like, so I always have aspirations of focusing on that.  And my secret aspiration is to one day participate in a century ride.  Considering I haven’t owned a bicycle since I was in high school, I read Tracy’s posts about getting on the bike with great interest.  I still have plenty of time, right?

Robin Kadet (Blog: A Fit and Focused Future)

SONY DSC

My name is Robin, and my whole future revolves around staying fit and healthy. Every day I have around 45 minutes to an hour of formal workouts, involving weights, yoga and various strength training workouts. I call this my “formal exercise”, but really I do this so that I can stay in shape for all the activities I love to do outside in rural Vermont where I live. Whether it’s wading through the river behind my house, fly fishing, hiking, foraging for mushrooms in the woods or snowshoeing and skiing in the winter, I find the strength, flexibility and balance I have gained w/ inside fitness enables me to make the most of whatever I like to do outside. I love to write about fitness and health, and help others in a relaxed way, keep their health top of mind. I’m an advocate and cheerleader for my son and my husband, and anyone else who would like to listen. Because keeping fit as we get older is hard, and so many people I know want this to happen, but don’t really know how to make it a priority. It doesn’t come by chance. Sometimes I need the reminder too, and writing in my blog every few weeks, (and reading others, like yours )even when other priorities vie for my attention, always helps me circle back to where it needs to be.

Thanks so much for your blog–I really enjoy reading it.

If you’d like to be profiled in “Look at You!” please send a photo of yourself in action and a 75-150 word bio focusing on what you do to stay active. You can send your submissions to fitfeminist50@gmail.com.  We look forward to hearing from you!

athletes · competition · disability · inclusiveness · motivation · racing

Motivational videos, conservative values, and the lessons sports teach us

Let begin by confessing that I’m a sucker for a good motivational sports video. I eat them up. They make me want to hop out of bed and get to the gym, or on my bike, all the while realizing how corny and cheesy they are. But that doesn’t matter. They stir me up and they get something right. They speak to me about the importance of effort and commitment and hard work. (I’ve written a bit about that here, What sorts of motivational sayings motivate you?)

The Grind (I’d like the alarm clock version! )

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=so0qslHYJpw

Swimming version of the Grind

Protect this House

Michael Jordan ‘Maybe It’s My Fault’

Meet the super humans, 2012 Paralympics ad

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kKTamH__xuQ

Now read What Fitness Tells Us About Conservatism’s Appeal. Here’s a short excerpt:

Eliminate the politics and nearly everyone of any partisan stripe idealizes conservative principles without realizing it.

How? Consider the world of sport and fitness. It’s nearly always a fantastic encouragement of individual expression and ability while also promoting a positive community at large. Those hard working, disciplined, don’t-give-up mantras have become more prominent in the last few years as America’s athletic personality has swelled with amateurs.

Mentally tough and intuitively conservative-minded concepts of hard work and personal responsibility accompany these ventures.

Does that make you feel differently about the videos and their messages?

For what it’s worth, I love hard work and personal responsibility. But I think the commentator above misses out though on some of the other lessons sports teach us. How about these ones? A team is only is strong as its weakest member. Never underestimate the power of teamwork. Respect your opponent. Everyone has something to contribute. We can do far more together than we can do alone.

Equally cheesy, I know, but just as important. It’s not all about individual effort. It’s also about working hard as a team and sometimes that means putting yourself aside for the good of the group.

Do you have any favourite inspirational sports videos? Do you think their message is inherently conservative?

Personally, I’m not ready to cede the language of hard work and responsibility to the right.

Uncategorized

Look at You! Calling All Readers!

ImageAfter Natalie’s post about photos (thanks, Natalie!) and another guest-blogger’s suggestion (thanks, Catherine!) that it would be great to see active photos of people who read our blog, we’ve decided to start a new feature so we all learn more about one another.  It’s called “Look at You!” Each week, we’ll profile 1-2 readers with their photo and a short bio about what fitness activities they enjoy and what goals they pursue.

If you’d like to be profiled in “Look at You!” please send a photo of yourself in action and a short bio focusing on what you do to stay active.  You can send your submissions to fitfeminist50@gmail.com

cycling · fitness classes · traveling

Spinning out in Banff: Tracy’s First Spin Class

spinI survived Bootcamp on Tuesday, so I figured a little spinning couldn’t be too bad. It sounds innocent enough. I can ride a bike. Sam went earlier in the week and said it would be fun. She showed me how the bikes work. She said it would be just an hour and we might even be able to make it to dinner at Vistas before they closed for the evening.

The class was free with the donation of a canned good. I had my can of sliced peaches in hand and my water bottle all filled. I assured myself I could endure anything for an hour (in fact, if you’ve read about my cycling outings with Sam, you’ll know I can endure for even more than that).

When the instructor said we were about to spin for NINETY minutes, my eyes widened.  I glanced over at Sam. She smiled (not in a mean way, just because what else could she do?). She too had 90 minutes ahead of her when she’d been expecting 60.  It was a bit like our windy day on the short Belmont loop—longer than I’d planned for and I had absolutely no clue what was coming.

I’m glad Sam showed me how to work the bikes (and in fact the instructor also made sure I was clear on what it involved) because it didn’t take me long to realize that my computer wasn’t working properly. It didn’t display cadence, which is the revolutions per minute. If you’ve ever taking a spin class you’ll know that cadence is hugely important.  You need to be able to monitor it to follow the instructions.

I jumped off and moved over to the next bike. It told me my cadence and off I went, spinning away to the music and the instructor’s directions.

Another variable is the level of resistance. There’s a little crank you can reach down and turn, and it makes it either harder or easier to move the pedals (which either keep turning or completely stop—you cannot coast on a spin bike).

You can make it harder by increasing your cadence from, say, an easy 80 to 120.  That is, it’s harder if you pedal faster.  But you can also make it harder by increasing the resistance on the wheel. Obviously it’s harder to maintain a cadence at 80 at a higher resistance than at a lower resistance.

Going super fast—sprinting—is a challenge. But so is going slow.  That’s what you do when you “climb.”    When you’re climbing, you’re sort of grinding it out at a low cadence (55-65, depending on where you are in the climb). If you don’t have enough resistance, then you can’t really maintain a low cadence – your pedaling speed will creep up. So you need to find the sweet spot (it’s not so sweet actually – let’s be more neutral and call it a “balance point”) where you can’t really comfortably maintain a higher cadence than what the instructor has asked of you.

The final variable is your position on the bike. There’s sitting and there’s standing. Standing is harder work in lots of ways. I say in lots of ways because it all depends on resistance and cadence, and also, the seats on these bikes are BRUTAL on the butt.  Oh, how I wished I had my padded bike shorts with me.

So what does a 90-minute spin class involve?  All manner of combinations of steady cadence, sprinting, climbing, sitting, standing for timed intervals. I can’t even get into the details, only to say that it makes you sweat and it makes your legs scream and it makes you very thirsty and short of breath. And, if you’re me, it makes you a little bit light-headed but not enough to bail out on any of the intervals (unlike Bootcamp).

I had a good spin experience, and here’s why:

  •  I liked the range of ages in the room, lots of older people who appeared from the way they moved those pedals to be in super good physical condition.
  • The instructor was really clear and worked us hard. Sam told me after that she’s an excellent instructor and that I could be sure that if I didn’t enjoy her spin class, I might as well forget about ever enjoying spin classes..
  • I felt like I worked hard.
  • It’s possible to slack off a bit without anyone knowing by lightening up on the resistance–this might not be the best thing to do, but I appreciated the option.
  • Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, the interval is over.  Knowing that the short bursts of effort are relatively short makes it easier to go all out.
  • I got to practice my pedaling form while stationary.  Sam’s friend Eaton told me I had to extend my heel more at the bottom of my revolution. The spin instructor also told us to extend our heels. The class gave me a chance to pay attention to that instruction. I think my form is improving.
  • Time just FLEW by.  I thought 90 minutes would feel like an eternity, but it didn’t at all.  And we covered 40K during that time! Not bad at all.

It was also good to get away from our work for a bit. We’ve been writing a lot since Saturday. A physically demanding class is a good antidote to that.

Is there more spinning in my future? Yes. Until the thaw comes in the spring and I get the road bike back out, it’s a good way to keep pedaling.