Month: March 2016

fitness

The Thrill of Signing up for Scary Goals!

Tracy I4 Comments

I’ve been trying to gather a group together to do the Niagara Women’s Half Marathon with me. I’m not going after non-runners. Instead, I’m talking to friends who I know to be strong and capable, but who haven’t done that distance before. So far, two newbies have committed!

And they are both afraid.

The other day I said to one of them: I like signing up for things that scare me but are in the realm of possibility. As someone who is definitely in the last half of my life, this is my middle (or late-middle) aged version of living on the edge.

Last year, it was the Around the Bay 30K and the Mississauga Marathon. The year before it was the two Olympic distance triathlons. The year before that it was the Kincardine Women’s Triathlon (my very first triathlon).  I’ve been reflecting on that first experience with triathlon because Sam and I are revising our book manuscript and I’m at the part of the story where I was terrified! I worked myself into a tizzy by over-studying about gear and transitions, not to mention that I’d never done a triathlon before and I had no conception of training. As I said in my pre-race post:

…my head is a swimming a bit with all of this pre-triathlon information. Helpful and scary at the same time.

The shared theme preceding all of these events:  fear. Not abject terror, mind you. But when it’s a new event or a new distance, fear creeps in.

But that’s what makes this stuff exciting. And that’s what pushes my training. It’s like a little nudge or prod, pushing me out the door.

The Harriet Tubman finishers’ medal for the Niagara Women’s Half Marathon is a great incentive to do the race. But having to complete a half marathon substantially increases the odds of me getting out the door for my workouts.  I know I can finish the distance, but I want to feel good. I want to be able to stay cheerful if possible, since I’m the one who talked people into it. Besides the two friends whom I hooked into trying the half distance for the first time, one of my regular running buddies is also doing the event.

Signing up for scary goals is a thrilling thing to do. If you’ve never tried it, I recommend it. Of course you want to keep them realistic, but also challenging enough that they get your adrenaline going.

Have you signed up for anything lately (or ever) that forced you to up your game?  I’d love to hear about it in the comments! Meanwhile, wish me luck with my half marathon training. The event is just one week before the Woodstock Sprint Triathlon that I promised Anita I’d do. I’m comfortable with each event individually. This year’s thrill is in the back to back-ness of them.

 

fitness

Our (ever) evolving routine and growing community

Sam B2 Comments

At first the blog was just Tracy and me, way back when we got things going in August 2012. We didn’t really think people who weren’t already friends, loved ones, family would read it. But as you know, we kind of hit a nerve. Lots of women, it turns out, had had enough of mainstream discussions of fitness and were ready to think critically about aesthetic versus athletic values, the values of ladylike behavior and the norms of sports performance,  inclusive fitness, and about growing old gracefully.

As time went on we added some guest bloggers. You know Nat Hebert and Catherine Womack. They became our Saturday and Sunday regulars as “Sat with Nat” and “Weekends with Womack.” That left Tracy and me a little bit more free to do things like run, swim, ride our bikes, spend time with family and friends, and get our usual academic writing done too.

And now our community is growing again with some new regular guest bloggers.

Meet Susan, she’ll be guest blogging the first Friday of the month.

Meet Martha, she’s got the second Friday.

Meet Cate, she’ll be the third Friday of the month.

And we’ll have more occasional visitors guest blogging on the last Friday of the month (and at other random times too.)

You can still expect, as a rule, to hear from me on Mondays and Wednesdays, Tracy on Tuesdays and Thursdays.

We hope you’re as thrilled as we are to have a larger community of regular guest bloggers here, and thank you to all of you who visit, comment, “like,” and spread the word about Fit Is a Feminist Issue.

UPDATE: Starting in September Nat will switch from weekly to monthly–“Sat with Nat” will be the first Saturday of every month. Also, Kim Solga will be joining the monthly posters, guest blogging the last Friday of every month.

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diets · health · nutrition

Eating Vegan: Not necessarily healthy, not necessarily unhealthy

Tracy I6 Comments

I don’t know why veganism creates such intense reactions in people. You’ve got your non-vegan folks who insist that vegans are undernourished–what the heck do they do for protein? Then, on the other side of it, you’ve got your so-called chefs who assume that grilled veggies make a sufficiently nutritious vegan meal.

There are those who insist that animals were put on this earth for our use, so we should just eat them. Or that plants have feelings too. Or that domesticated animals don’t have it so bad anyway. See a bunch of these arguments and responses to them here.

But today I want to address one issue and one issue only: is a vegan diet healthy or unhealthy?

That’s really a silly question, akin to asking if food is healthy or unhealthy. Some is, some isn’t. Whether your vegan diet is healthy or unhealthy depends on what you eat.

James Fell’s article, “Are Vegan Diets Healthy?” gives a clue as to what gets people’s backs up.  The author objects to “militant” vegans, but admits that only a small minority of vegans are militant.  Being vegan, I can attest to this fact. Most of us quite frequently dine quietly alongside, even with, people who are eating food that we think comes from an industry that promotes unnecessary animal suffering.

Then there is the even less political arm of veganism, those who won’t even use the term. They defer instead to the “plant-based” diet.  These are the folks most likely to be in your face not about the ethics of animal farming, but about the health benefits of eating a plant-based diet. They’re purists in a different sort of way, moralizing food choices for reasons that have nothing to do with animal ethics.

Obesity researcher, Yoni Freedhoff, is quoted in the article as saying:

There are some vegan organizations that like to tell people that this is the ticket to weight loss, but unfortunately that’s not always the case. You can have plenty of vegan calories as well. Going vegan does not necessitate a healthy weight.

I’ve blogged before about the sad truth that going vegan doesn’t produce a weight-loss miracle. And it doesn’t automatically mean you’re eating healthy foods, either. But it doesn’t mean you’re not.

Lots of people like to say that vegans can’t try properly because they can’t get enough protein. The article about vegan diet and health talks about endurance athletes who have forgone animal products with no negative impact (and sometimes, they say, a positive impact) on their athletic performance

The author goes on to say:

“Veganism is an ethical concept more than a health concept,” said Dr. Garth Davis, a weight loss surgeon in Houston, Texas and an expert in plant-based diets. “I don’t use the term ‘vegan’ with my patients. I prefer ‘plant-based.’”

Dr. Davis told me: “I think most vegans did choose it from an ethical standpoint, but it has changed and grown over time to include those who find they perform better at sports on plant-based diets.” He echoed what Lindsey Miller and Scott Jurek said that many choose it for health reasons because it makes you think more carefully about your food intake.

“You don’t have be vegan in order to be healthy, but being vegan is a very healthy way to live,” he said.

Notice the emphasis on the less political/ethical “plant-based.’ Here, the health benefits take centre stage.  Sure, if you focus on whole foods in your plant-based diet, you’ll make healthy choices. That’s probably the reason why so many people slide the two together. But vegan doesn’t mean only whole, low fat foods. I made an amazing vegan spiced pumpkin cake with a chocolate glaze yesterday and I’m glad I took it to an event where I wouldn’t have to contend with leftovers.  Despite containing pumpkin and being vegan, it wasn’t the healthiest thing to come out of my kitchen this weekend.

It should come as no surprise that James Fell, author of  “Are Vegan Diets Healthy?” concludes:

The takeaway here is that, yes, vegan can be a very healthy diet, as long as you do the work to ensure you do vegan well, and avoid the processed vegan “food.” From a health perspective, going vegan can make it so those who struggle with healthy eating are made to take their nutrition more seriously.

Because cutting out fast food burgers in favor of more plants is a good idea.

I’m the last person to discourage anyone from opting for a vegan diet and lifestyle, but the fact is that cutting out fast food burgers in favour of all sorts of other possibilities is probably a good idea.

And it’s worth saying that as with any approach to eating, you need to do a bit of research. One thing I’ve discovered, for example, is that vegans actually do need to make a point of getting their B12 because it is a necessary vitamin and occurs naturally in only a small range of plant foods. Most non-vegans get their B12 from meat products. For a vegan, plant-based “milks” as well as cereals are usually fortified with B12, and you can also get it from B12 supplements.

That’s just one factor. We’re not born knowing what constitutes a well-rounded diet that meets all of our nutritional needs. Whether you opt to eat a vegan diet or not, the simple fact is that whether your version is healthy or unhealthy depends entirely on the specific choices you make.

 

fitness

Exercise bookends: Love letter to Sunday hot yoga

Sam B8 Comments

I’ve written before about why I exercise on Mondays. Usually I start the week with some combo of running, weight lifting, and Aikido.

So I bookend the start of the week with those things. But I like a different sort of bookend at the end of the week, hot yoga. I aim for the Sunday night class, 8-9 pm, at a little yoga studio just a few blocks from my house.

I can walk over there, bend and stretch in the steamy hot yoga room, walk home, and call it a night. (Tonight also involved the last ever episode of Downton Abbey with my mother, green tea, some laundry, a bath, and this blog post.)

I’m a bit of a weekend warrior when it comes to exercise and I hate stretching so Sunday night yoga helps set all that to right. Especially in the Canadian winter this stiff, non-flexible, muscular person loves the hot yoga room. When it goes well and yoga girl doesn’t ruin my chill it’s also a terrific way to find some quiet and some peace on a Sunday. Namaste, friends.

 

fitness · running

BoJack Horseman’s running advice

Sam B1 Comment

I’ve been watching a new (to me) show with my son. After years of claiming that I don’t like animated sitcoms, like the Simpsons and Archer, at my son’s insistence I tried BoJack Horseman. And I really like it.

I especially love how much the show embraces sadness. Here’s the show’s creator describing BoJack, “One of the ways I would describe his character when I first was pitching my show is he’s someone who looks around at everyone at a party and simultaneously feels smarter and stupider then everybody there. He thinks he’s the best person in the room, but he also thinks he’s the worst. And that idea that “I am smarter then all these people, so why can’t I figure out a way to be happy like them?” was one I was always very interested in exploring. In my most misanthropic, narcissistic moments, how I would look around a room of people and feel that way about myself.”

I don’t often get a chance to talk about the shows I like on the blog though I did sneak a reference in here.

But Season Two of BoJack Horseman ended with a great message about running and about life.

 

On Love, Fear and Risk
fitness · injury · motivation · training

On Love, Fear and Risk

catherine w29 Comments

This week I’m scheduled to complete my scuba certification by doing four training dives over two days, demonstrating skills, safety and emergency procedures that I learned in my online and pool course a week ago. I am currently in Puerto Rico for that purpose.

The problem is, I may be unable to complete my open water course this week.

Why? After all, when I bumped into scuba while in Australia a couple of months ago, it was love at first sight (of colorful fish). I adored the feeling of weightlessness, the quiet blue world, and the varied and gorgeous sea creatures I met. I even blogged triumphantly about it, proud of my new discovery.

Once I got back to Boston, I set about getting certified so I could become a real diver. The online course was jam-packed with information about terrible things that could happen underwater to those who didn’t follow proper procedures, especially on descending and ascending. But that didn’t put me off one bit.

We proceeded to the pool for two sessions, all geared up and ready to learn some skills. In session one we learned to clear ears, clear masks, clear regulators, throw the regulators away and get them back again, lie down on the bottom of the pool, inflate and deflate our buoyancy control devices, insert weights, drop weights, and much more. It all went very swimmingly.

Then came session two.

I was having an off-kilter day and couldn’t shake feelings of dread about the session. Likely I was just tired (the course was an intensive one over a weekend), but that didn’t help my mood. As soon as I got in the pool, problems started surfacing. First my regulator was faulty, so I had to change it out. No problem, but it put me behind in the lessons. Then I had all kinds of trouble with buoyancy—this is a huge issue for scuba and takes a long time to master. Still, I was rolling around on the surface like a barrel, and it was making me agitated.

The next problem happened when I was doing a regulator drill underwater with an assistant instructor. Long story short, I couldn’t retrieve my regulator, and when I went for my secondary one, it was tangled in my snorkel. As I was running out of air, I motioned to the instructor (who was one foot away) to get hers. She gave it to me, but I was flat out of air and couldn’t blow out. I panicked and swam to the surface, popped out of the water choking and coughing up water. Not the right thing to do, and not fun. However, I rallied, and after getting my breathing under control, I went back underwater and completed the skill. Mission accomplished.

But wait, there’s more.   While hanging around in 10 feet of water, waiting for my turn to do an emergency ascent requiring dropping weights and a controlled rise to the surface, I casually checked my pressure gauge. Oh no—it read 250psi! That means I’m almost out of air. Like, really almost out of air. Now, I was in a pool in 10 feet of water, so I wasn’t in danger, but it meant I had to change tanks right then and there. Argh. So I did, but then I was even more behind. By the time the pool was closing, I still had one skill test left (everyone else was changing in the locker rooms). I went into the deep end with the instructor, and took off all my scuba equipment, keeping the regulator in my mouth, and then put it back on again. It wasn’t pretty, but I did it.

I passed the pool course, but felt totally deflated. My instructor assured me that I would be fine in the open water dives, but I’ve been worried ever since.  How could my love story turn sour in the course of a 3-hour pool session?  And can I get the love back?

FYI, the way the open water section of the scuba course goes is that every skill I did in the pool I will have to reproduce in the ocean, at a depth of up to 33 feet. There will be no popping up quickly to the surface if I make a mistake and run out of air—you can’t do so safely from that depth. Of course, instructors certify students all the time, and the safety stats for scuba certification are very good.

I totally love the feeling of scuba– swimming underwater while breathing and exploring.  It’s the coolest thing ever– you’re independent of your natural air environment, and get to be a part of the cool blue world of water.  I don’t feel claustrophobic, and the fishes and other critters strike me as fascinating and not scary (I haven’t encountered an eel yet, but will try to keep these words in mind).

However, I’m still really scared. I’m worried about the weather, wind conditions, how much to trust myself, whether to trust these new instructors, seasickness, you name it.

In addition, I’m pretty sure I’m getting a cold and cough.  Naturally, I googled “can I scuba dive with cold/cough?”  The smart money is on “no”. Argh.

I have no idea what I’ll end up doing. Will I grit my teeth, gut it out, woman up, and just do it? Or will I give myself permission to pull the plug if I’m not feeling comfortable or well, even though everyone will know that I canceled and delayed my certification  (really everyone will know now that I’ve blogged about it…). I don’t know.

I’m not asking you, readers, what I should do. What I am asking is to hear some comments from you about how you’ve dealt with fear (and love at the same time) of doing physical activities with risk. If you have a story, tell me. I’ll report back on what happens next week. No matter what happens, I’ll finish my certification sooner or later.

And thanks—it’s really cool knowing all of you are out there.

scuba-caw

fitness · Guest Post · weight loss · yoga

Letter to the New Yoga Studio (Guest Post)

Cate Hundleby13 Comments

I was dismayed this week to discover that a yoga studio moving to my neighbourhood was claiming to help people with weight loss. For me and many people yoga provides a sanctuary from the body negativity and dieting pressure that pervades our culture. Yoga builds strength and flexibility and encourages pleasure in what one’s own body can do — which is completely different for everyone.

Increasingly, it seems to me, the value of yoga for both physical and mental fitness is perverted by the weight loss industry. A friend living in rural Alberta has no access to any other yoga, and misses the body positivity yoga properly provides. Are others of you finding this?

So, I thought I needed to write the owner a letter — if only to exorcise my frustration, and with some encouragement from a friend I did. It helped that the studio’s values concern community health and well-being, to which I appealed, along with a few links and facts — many gleaned from posts on this blog. Here’s what I wrote, some particulars omitted.

We have never met formally but your yoga classes were a favourite for me and my colleagues years ago at DTY.  I’ve practiced yoga on and off for decades and several times a week for a few years now. So I was excited to hear that your studio was moving very close to my home.  I know a number of people who live and work in this neighbourhood are excited about your studio move.

So, I started to check out your schedule on-line, but as I navigated there I was shocked and disappointed to see a weight loss message.  I haven’t looked far, but the very mention of weight loss as a goal for yoga is highly problematic, it jumps out from the screen, and the effect is fat shaming.  There is a body of research showing this effect of weight loss messages and the ineffectiveness of fat shaming in producing weight loss, though I expect you never intended that effect. 

I assume the reason you associate yoga with weight loss is because of its profound benefits for fitness, both physical and mental. Associating weight loss with fitness is a common error — see here, perpetuated by the massive weight loss industry.  I hardly know where to start discussing this: you are a fitness professional, but you are mistaken to associate yoga or fitness with weight loss, and I can only guess how you’ve been misled. It’s intuitive that encouraging weight loss would help people who want to lose weight, but the evidence indicates the opposite. First, losing weight is unhealthy for many people. More generally, while the science of weight loss is complex and often contradictory, one of the clearest results is that permanent weight loss is rare, and most weight loss programs just make people gain weight in the long run (see here and here, just to start). 

Perhaps you think you can help “the obesity crisis” and there is some reason to be concerned about that, but little reason to think individual weight loss programs will help. Those who lose weight and keep it off more than a year are known as “weight loss unicorns” and even then the evidence shows diet more effective than exercise. Nevertheless there are many reasons to desire the fitness and health — at any size — that yoga can provide. 

Part of the Yoga Loft mission stated on your web site is “to positively influence friends and family, ultimately influencing the community for better health, quality of life and happiness.” I share your hope for a healthier and happier community and believe the move of the arrival of your studio could aid that. However, the fat shaming and false hope extended by the mention of weight loss stands in the way.  It may be especially harmful for women who are pressured in so many ways to pursue weight loss, but that message poisons fitness for all kinds of people, including those like me who enjoy in yoga the very opposite of fat shaming and instead a robust body positivity.  

Please don’t spoil the potential of your studio to have a positive influence on our community by perpetuating the misinformation and fat shaming that comes across when you suggest you can help with weight loss. A healthier sense of our bodies would help us all thrive. If you are interested in a more positive view of fitness, this blog is a rich resource and it inspired a book that will be out in the next year — it has a feminist focus, but as the saying goes “feminism is for everybody.” (I have a few pieces there myself.) By resisting fat shaming, you may actually do more to help people who are struggling with obesity, as this recent article in The Globe and Mail indicates.  

If you’d like to chat about this over coffee, tea, or lunch, I’d be happy to.  

Very quickly I received a positive response! They removed the weight loss language, and apologized for the oversight. Wow!  That’s the best response I’ve ever received to a complaint, and renews my faith in yoga as a social as well as physical and mental practice.

Sat with Nat

My body is not a self-improvement project

natalieh (she/her)3 Comments

    

It’s been a bit hairy at my paid work the past couple of weeks. I’m walking to work and occasionally spinning inside on my bicycle. I’m in a pretty comfortable groove with my health and fitness. As a stereotypical A type personality I often focus on constant improvement, tweaking the process and looking to improve but recently I decided I’m doing enough.

It’s not that I don’t have goals or am not open to the new, it’s more about being content that I am enough. My round body is a good body and as fitness, fatness and aging play a tug-o-war with my appearance I’ve decided my body is not a self-improvement project.

It’s not easy to identify why I’ve made this change in perspective. I’m thinking it started about the time one cousin said, lovingly, that I look like Grammie. She wasn’t what you would call a good looking woman. She was practical, eccentric and eschewed female gender norms. I’m pulling together a longer post about Grammie soon but she also died at 65 from heart disease.

I look like her and have inherited her risk of heart disease, something my mom and I have in common. To look like family is a gift, to feel connected, to be a part of. I live far from my family so this tenuous connection of resemblance means a lot. It also means my body will look like other bodies in my family. Many are slim and many are round, I definitely take after the round ones!

To try and and be a specific shape or meet a definition of “in shape” feels like a lot of wasted effort for very little payoff.

I’m interested to see what my body will look like over time but I’m slowly letting go of the expectations of what that will be.

I took the above photo on Thursday and thought “Damn! I look AWESOME!”

I’m working hard AND happy AND good with my family. I will keep moving my body through time and space, knowing it will always be different and somehow the same body. It’s an interesting place to be and definitely good enough. 

fitness

Horse Magic (Guest Post)

Susan Tarshis7 Comments

I ride horses. It is my absolute favourite sport. And yet, I have never blogged about it. When I talk about the sports I participate in to people, I sometimes don’t mention it. It’s like my secret sport but that isn’t intentional.

When I committed to a regular guest post here, I cast my mind about to think of topics I could draw on and that was when horses occurred to me. But that made me wonder why it hadn’t before. I usually write about experiences or advances or issues that have an edge of angst. Since I was a random poster, the only reason I’d write something was because it struck me some way or another.

Horses are another matter, another level. Horses are magic.

I was privileged (in all meanings of that word) to be able to learn to ride when I was about 11 years old. It started at summer camp and then eventually, I was allowed weekly lessons at an English riding barn north of Toronto. I suppose I was doing Hunter/Jumper work but all I knew is I got to ride every week and it was pretty much the only place I was happy in the disaster of a social world that was me, age 11-16 years old. It was fun. I was good at it and the whole thing revolved around these creatures that I couldn’t get enough of. Huge strong beasts that let me ride them. They listened to what I told them and took me flying. They had soft noses and big beautiful eyes. They smelled so good. Even their poop smelled good to me.

Then my parents tricked me. I also liked to play saxophone at school. I had a choice. I could continue riding or they could buy me a really great sax. I chose the sax and horses faded from my life. Freud would have a field day with this, but I digress. . .

25-ish years later, I ask my 8 year old daughter if she wants to learn to ride. I am living in a town that has quick access to many teaching barns. She says yes. I go to the barn to help her get ready and I’m shaking. I burst into tears of joy and longing. I’m so happy to be home.

It took about 6 months for it to dawn on me that I could also ride again. I didn’t actually have to live vicariously through my daughter. Those first lessons were chaotic. My body and mind remembered so much and yet so much had changed. I was 40, not 16 and I was weak in places I didn’t remember needed to be strong. I fell off. I screwed up. I got yelled at by my teacher. It was fantastic.

I had to come to terms with my body and the profound truth that if I wanted to continue to ride, I had to do other things so that I could ride. I needed more strength and balance. I needed more endurance. So I started to do strength training and running and yoga. I restarted Pilates. I kept riding. So did my daughter.

8 years later, my 15 year old daughter and I ride in the same group lesson. We ride Hunter/Jumper and every week we are in the presence of these magnificent creatures with soft noses and huge eyes. They let us ride them. They pay attention to every move, every breath, every thought that goes through our heads and when it all aligns, they take us flying.

In the journey back to horses, I have learned to run a 6 minute kilometer, reacquired my core strength, built up my shoulders and upper body, learned to cycle fast on skinny tires, led canoe trips and become more or less fearless about trying new things. In some ways, it led me back to myself at a time of tremendous transition. It wouldn’t have happened the same way without that imperative, that longing to get back up there and fly.

I still don’t fully understand why it’s so strong, the love of that sport. Maybe it isn’t the sport at all. It’s them. It’s the way they look at you or the way they ignore you. It’s the way they demand treats by searching all your pockets or, in one case, trying to find them in my pants. It’s how they stop and check on you right after dumping you into the dirt at the base of a jump. It’s how they let you cry on them when you are a lonely sad 14 year old girl. Even now, writing this post makes me weep with. . .something. . .love, joy, grief. It’s horse magic.

snowbound
Snowbound, he who searches pockets and pants for treats

fitness · Guest Post

On the Semiotics of the “I Bicep-Heart-Vaguterus GWPL” Shirt (Guest Post)

Sam B3 Comments

 

by Julia Bursten

Friends, I am here today to speak to you as a feminist, a philosopher, a power lifter, and moreover as a concerned citizen. I am calling on you to join me in considering the bicep-heart-vaguterus in the “I bicep-heart-vaguterus Girls Who Power Lift” t-shirt pictured here. This image, created by the team behind the website www.girlswhopowerlift.com, encapsulates the mystifying world of modern meathead feminism so thoroughly that I cannot stay silent about it any longer.

First, let’s contemplate the layout of the bicep-heart-vaguterus. It is utterly Escher-esque in its use of positive and negative space, coaxing anatomically-puzzling imagery of the female sexual organs out of the mash-up of familiar icons of strength and love with a deftness to rival the mathematical achievement of Penrose tiles. The spandrels of the San Marcos would be hard-pressed to call themselves happier accidents of artistic achievement.

The heart, fuller and rounder in its outline than the standard representation of romantic affection, is, nonetheless, more angled than normal at its lateral inflexions. It is almost ovoid if you squint, evoking not only the symbol of romantic love but also that of avian fertility. Is it asking us to reconsider our attachment to outdated and subtly oppressive gestures of fondness? Should we make our loved ones gifts of eggs, full of protein and omega-3s, instead of offering up commercialized tins of chocolates shaped like no one’s anatomic heart? Are our hearts not yet full enough for feminism?

The biceps, stylized beyond even the caricature found in standard Emoji alphabets, might be those of the patriarchy, attempting to confine within their mighty flexion the female spirit. Or they might be subtle calls for a newly unrealistic standard of feminine arm beauty, hearkening back to recent years’ concern over “strong is the new skinny” campaigns and the United States’ problematic—or is it inspirational?—love affair with its first lady’s upper limbs.

But really, it is the negatively-defined vaguterus in the center of the figure that requires our most fervent and reflective study.  The vaguterus exists in the negative space of the twin biceps in the same way that women may find themselves existing in the negative space between socially-pressured bra burning and the embrace of makeup as a healthy form of creative expression. It is wanting to wear a short skirt and knowing that you look good doing it, and knowing that it is society’s fault and not yours if you get catcalled or worse while wearing it, even if you’re drunk in your child-bearing years, and yet feeling so exhausted at the thought of trying to explain feminism to men or decide whether to be offended, pleased, or just impressed at the accuracy of a stranger shouting, “Hey girl, looks like you’ve been hitting the squat rack,”[1] or having to check your bag for pepper spray, that you whip your hair into a no-nonsense bun and throw on slacks cut for someone without lifter’s quads instead. It is the space between the world as it is and the world as it should be. It is the abstinence-only movement’s insidious hope of shaming orgasms into oblivion by hiding from young women the mechanisms and potential pleasures of the embodied female experience. It is the setting of Ursula K. Le Guin’s next short story.

We might wonder, in idle moments, whether the vaguterus was an intentional or accidental inclusion. But intent is ultimately irrelevant. The vaguterus is, and it is the essential tension between the empowerment and objectification of girlswomen who power lift. It is there as we silently count the number of times “pussy” and “little girl” are shouted at our friends as they try to pick up heavier and heavier things. It is there as we thank our breasts for shortening the distance between the beginning and end of a rep on the bench press. It is there as we swap war stories about titrating birth control to maximize performance at a meet and using Kegels and menstrual pads during heavy deadlifts to keep the platform dry.

There may come a day when we’ve figured out what to do about the problem of the female body as a power-lifting body: when to differentiate training programs from male-bodied lifting bodies, whether to redesign competition singlets with padding around the pelvic floor region, how to make weightlifting belts that respond to the narrower-waist-wider-hip proportionality of Y-chromosome-non-havers. But until then, the bicep-heart-vaguterus may not be the iconography we want, but it is the iconography we deserve. Perhaps it is best to simply stare intently into its depths, searching for answers to a question that can only be asked in a language we don’t yet possess, and imagine the vaguterus happy.

[1] Actual catcall directed at the author last year.

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Julia Bursten is an assistant professor of philosophy, USAPL power lifter, lapsed yoga teacher, and sometime horse archer living in San Francisco, and she recently deadlifted twice her bodyweight. She was wearing a maxipad at the time.