Beer and yoga. People love them both, right? So why not just merge the two into one activity and call it “beer yoga”?

I can think of a few reasons why not to do this, but the train has already left the station on beer yoga. It is, as this article says, already a “thing.” According to the article, it first got popular with “Berlin hipsters.” And now it’s caught on in Australia.

It sounds like a cheap publicity stunt. I mean, as if yoga has not already been thoroughly enough stripped of its rarified, sacred, Eastern roots. Its popularity in the West has turned it into just another activity–a high-end activity at that, with a whole style culture associated with it–with the occasional “Om” and “Namaste” thrown in for pseudo-spiritual good measure.

But the German group that started it isn’t just serving up beer after a yoga class. According to the BierYoga website:

BeerYoga is the marriage of two great loves–beer and yoga. Both are centuries old therapies for body, mind, and soul. The joy of drinking beer and the mindfulness of yoga compliment each other, and make for an energizing experience.

Now I understand that as a non-drinker who has chosen not to drink because of my addictive personality I may not have the most objective attitude about this. But it strikes me that it may be an exaggeration to call beer a “therapy” for the body, mind or soul. I was always taught that if you’re using booze to feel better, you may well have a problem.

I would think we need to encourage people to drink less, not more, beer.  But BierYoga makes some extravagant claims on its website about its “philosophy”:

Beer yoga is fun but it’s no joke–we take the philosophies of yoga and pair it with the pleasure of beer-drinking to reach your highest level of consciousness.

Call me a skeptic, but I just don’t buy it. I mean, maybe you like beer and maybe you like yoga. Fine. So I get that there may be a novelty factor. But if you want to reach your highest level of consciousness, I’m going to say beer yoga is not likely your ticket to nirvana.

In general I’m not keen on the association of drinking with other activities that are good for our health and well-being. I can live without the women and wine theme of the Niagara Falls Women’s Half Marathon, for example, even though I generally like the event. I can’t even imagine wanting to run the beer mile.

I guess my thinking on this is that basically anything that’s worth pursuing is not made better by adding beer or wine or scotch or martinis or anything along those lines. Considering that alcohol is a known depressant and generally acts as a drug with mood-altering qualities, I’m not down with promoting it as a harmless or effective way of achieving well-being. And the pairing of beer with yoga seems especially egregious to me because, granted that most yoga isn’t usually delivered in a way that keeps it strongly grounded in its origins these days, it still has those origins.

In the US, the yoga-beer thing is a bit less integrated. Some breweries are offering “Yoga+Beer” according to this article. Their claims are more modest, not about reaching a higher level of consciousness but instead about doing yoga in unexpected places and then having a beer:

“I find that teaching traditional yoga in nontraditional places brings people to the mat who otherwise wouldn’t normally start a yoga practice,” Erin Sonn, founder of Eat. Yoga. Drink. in Northern Virginia, which offers “Yoga+Beer” sessions, told Washington radio station WTOP.

Backers say it combines two activities with the same goal.

“We do these activities because they’re both relaxing,” Kristin Kelly of the Flying Dog Brewery in Frederick, Maryland, told the Frederick News-Dispatch. “So putting these two activities together really just makes sense. You’re doing your yoga in the morning before the brewery even opens, and then you get to hang out and have a beer.”

See Redefining Women’s Strength and Power

I’ve been back from Florida for less than a week. It’s been a hectic time since I hit the ground running last Wednesday, with a work meeting less than 8 hours after I walked in the door of my condo at 12:30 a.m., having been away for just over three weeks.

In the spirit of trying something new in 2017, now that I’ve put triathlon on hold due to the way my road phobia has interfered with my bike training, I’ve taken on two activities that are sort of new for me: West Coast Swing dancing and spinning (yes, in a class on a stationary bicycle at the Y).

I’ve always loved to dance even though I’m not the greatest dancer. I’m not terrible, just average. A few years ago, Renald and I learned how to do West Coast Swing. It’s a type of partner dancing with leaders (usually the men) and followers (usually the women). It’s much more casual than ballroom dancing. You can do it to all sorts of popular music, so it’s the sort of thing that works well at weddings, dances, and in clubs.

We really got into it for awhile. We used to practice every single day after breakfast for at least one and sometimes two songs. We got the basics down and even managed to add a few fancy moves to our repertoire.

But that all ended when the night of our class changed and the new time conflicted with another commitment. I always wanted to start it up again, but he was less interested. But now he’s retired and living on our boat. I’m still in London. The thing about West Coast Swing is that even though it’s with a partner, you don’t need a partner to take a class. And even if you do, they rotate you through different partners so you’re never dancing with yours all night anyway.

My friend and colleague, Jessica, has been doing WCS for a couple of years now here in London and always sounds like she’s having so much fun with it. I know from the Women’s Studies and Feminist Research Holiday party that she’s a fantastic dancer. I knew Jessica didn’t go into it with a partner, so after a couple of years of being intrigued but not doing anything about it, I finally decided to ask her about it. She dances with West Coast Swing London. They’re a super welcoming group, as I found out when I went to the January dance on Sunday afternoon.

Their monthly dances include an intermediate class followed by a beginners class followed by a social dance. I watched the intermediate class, hoping to remember something from the last time (I didn’t remember much at all). West Coast Swing is great in that more experienced people are usually quite happy to help out the newbies and dance at their basic level. So between the two classes, when someone asked me to dance, I accepted the invitation. He gave me a very basic lesson and the six count (1-2-3-and-4-5-and-6) started to come back to me. That kind of warmed me up for the beginners lesson.

At my beginners lesson, there were about eight or nine couples. We learned exactly three things: the left pass, the right pass, and the sugar push. I got assigned to dance with one leader who really knows what he’s doing. I felt clumsy and not at all confident. But by the  end of the hour, guess what? I could do those three things as long as I counted out loud the whole time (“one-two-three-and-four-five-and-six).

When the class ended, Jessica came and danced with me for a couple of tunes (she’s so good that she’s learning to lead, so for her that was good practice). I asked the person I’d danced with before the lesson if he wanted to dance so I could show him what I’d learned. A couple of other people asked me to dance, including an awesome woman who, like Jessica, is learning how to lead now that she’s mastered following.

My evening classes begin in February, when I’m taking four weeks of introductory lessons. I’m excited about learning how to dance. I know lots of people might hesitate to take up partner dancing without a partner, but I’ve discovered that in West Coast Swing it doesn’t matter.  I’ve been practicing my steps a lot since then in the hopes that I won’t need to count out loud for very long. The more I practice the faster the muscle memory will set in. So that’s my dance classes.

Less fun but also something that I’ve been meaning to try are the early morning spin classes at the Y. Another colleague and friend, Chris, whom I’ve done a couple of triathlons with and who introduced me to her personal trainer (who is now also my personal trainer), kept telling me how great the Monday morning “group ride” class is. My Y membership has been languishing unused for a few months and I decided while I was in Florida that I either need to use it at least twice a week or let it go. It’s all well and good to subsidize other people’s memberships, but if I’m not going to use mine then I can support the Y through  charitable donation instead.

So yesterday morning I made my way to the Y for the 6:30 a.m. group ride class. And what a class it was. Chris helped me get set up on my bike and showed me how they work. Though I’ve done some indoor training with my road bike, and I kind of liked it, it always seemed simpler just to go to a spin class. That way I wouldn’t have to lug my bike and a trainer around with me to set up in Coach Chris’s basement. The only other time I’ve done an actual spin class on a spin bike was when Sam and I were in Banff, ages ago.

I just have to say: spin classes are BRUTAL. He kept asking us to add tension and maintain our RPMs. I think I went out too fast, because I thought we were already doing brutal intervals and we were still sort of in the warm-up phase. What I like most about spinning is that you get to adjust your own tension and you don’t have to keep up with the group if you don’t feel you can. Outdoor group riding doesn’t have that bonus. If I’d been out on the road with an actual group instead of in the class on a stationary bike I’d have fallen way behind.

Whatever though. I worked up a sweat and finished the class feeling energized and as if I’d earned my favourite part of my Y membership: the steam room. And all this before 8 a.m.

I know it’s not all that exciting to read posts about someone else’s workouts, but once in awhile we like to share our new adventures. I’m feeling good about my winter plans, and in addition to these two new things, I’ve managed to get out to a hot yoga class, a couple of personal training sessions, and to meet up with Anita and Julie for an 8K. I love my routines, but I also like spicing them up once and awhile with some changes.

How about you? Is there anything new on the horizon for you activity-wise in 2017?

 

 

I’m not a small woman. But I am strong. And on my bike—when it’s flat, especially–I can be pretty fast. See past posts Big women and strength and Fat or big: What’s in a name? for some of my thoughts about this stuff. For more, see Big women on bikes.

If you’re a larger, stronger, faster person, there’s language people may use to describe you. That is, once you’re in a context in which people have to see you as athletic. It’s powerful language with which I’m frankly not that comfortable, though I know people mean it as a compliment. Some days I even hear it as a compliment.

I passed some friends on their bikes on a ride and later they commented, “you’re an animal on that bike.” Or the other day at the boxing gym the trainer commented “you’re going at that heavy bag like a beast.” Or sometimes, people call me a “monster” as in “you were a real monster on that section of road back there.” Monster, beast, animal?

In each case, I know what they mean. I’m big and strong.

But part of me wants to be good at these things like a more graceful sort of creature. Sometimes I want what feminists aren’t supposed to want, to take up less space, to be noticed for beauty of movement not brute force. I know I’m no gazelle, never a greyhound. I posted awhile ago about running like a wombat, solid but speedy. Also cute and cuddly. See run like a wombat! (Read guest blogger Tracy’s post about her fitness animal inspiration, the seal.)

On the bike there’s a contrast between people who spin at a high cadence and people like me who prefer bigger, harder gears. Usually that too is associated with size. It’s like the contrast between sprinters and distance runners.

Big gear riders are mashers.

See an explanation here: “Pedaling furiously (with a high cadence) on a low gear is called spinning, while pedaling slower (low cadence) on a high gear is called mashing. Both can get you to high speeds — so why do the best cyclists prefer spinning? The prevailing theory is that spinning is a more efficient use of your strength and energy. Many cyclists revert to mashing, however, because it feels faster. But, not only does mashing produce more lactic acid, it predominantly uses what’s called fast-twitch muscle fibers, which fatigue faster than slow-twitch fibers (used in spinning)…”

Back to “beast” language: It isn’t at all feminine. I guess that’s part of the issue. And while CrossFit is the place that’s best at encouraging women to embrace “beast mode” even there it seems like it’s more a guy thing.

 

 

 

Discussions about body image and animal language always reminds me of a story I associate with dancing. I’ve always wanted to dance. But beasts don’t get to dance.

It’s a family story–I don’t know if it’s true–but according to the story I was thrown out of ballet class at the age 4. I was told I had the grace of a baby elephant. Bounce! Jump! Stomp!

That’s also a slight to baby elephants. Look, here’s one dancing!

In my family my father, a slender man, and my son, also very thin and tall, were the dancers. I associate dancing with the ballet dancer’s body.

So when this video came across my social media newsfeed, it made me smile.

On good days I think it’s simply a matter of wanting the thing you don’t have. There was a time in my teens when I wanted straight hair. I even tried straightening it with chemicals. More recently there were months when I took up blow drying and straightening with a vengeance. These days I’ve mostly made peace with my curls.

 

 

I watch some of the smaller women in boxing class and admire how fast they move. I admire the graceful, flexible people in Aikido. And on the bike, it’s the hill climbers who wow me. I don’t want to look like an endurance athlete–see Fear of frail? In which Sam pledges not to body shame skinny runners–but I’m not entirely comfortable with the beast language either.

In my geeky family we sometimes talk about which Lord of the Rings character we most resemble. They joke that I’m the Hobbit mother in terms of height. And I like second breakfasts. But really, they say, I’d be lousy Hobbit because I’m not a fan of pot smoking and I love to travel. I have one child who is a definite elf. Maybe, they say, you’re more a dwarf, like Gimli. Short but strong. Notice though that there aren’t any Dwarf women in battle and the subject of dwarf women is a bit of a joke. This from a LOTR wiki: “Dwarves wanted their women to be protected from other races and they usually kept them concealed inside their mountain halls. They seldom traveled in the outside world, only in great need, and when they did, they were dressed as men; with similar voice and appearance as male dwarves, even when they are rarely seen they are usually mistaken for a male. All Dwarves had beards from the beginning of their lives.”

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ip5T89jfJoA

 

It’s also a matter in athletic terms of feeling the need to train your weaknesses. I need to work on high cadence drills. I can spend less time doing big gear sprints. See Train your weaknesses but also know your strengths. In Aikido, I need to work on being a better uke and practice my rolls.

But my discomfort goes past this, I think. It’s partly about gender and beauty and society’s norms which in theory I reject but in real life still haunt me sometimes. I know, I know. I’m the person on the blog who is all about loving the body you have. And 95% of the time, I’m there. I’m especially there in athletic contexts. But this is my 5%. And it’s January. And grey. And now you know, even unusually happy perky me isn’t always happy and perky.

Maybe I’ll watch Strong! tonight.

 

 

Hey, good news! Word is getting out and our positive fitness message is getting noticed. Optimyz magazine says we’re one of the “top 100 health influencers in Canada.” They describe our online community as being full of positive messaging. I like that.

You can read about it here.

The average high for this day in January is -4 and the average low is -11. That’s weather for riding the trainer. Or cross country skiing. But today the low was +4 and the high was +8. Also, the roads were pretty clear. Also, it wasn’t raining. Those conditions call for outdoor riding.

So this morning David, Jeff, and I swapped trainer tires for regular road tires, hunted down all the cold weather gear, and headed out for a January ride.  The temperature was lovely. We weren’t cold at all. But the ride wasn’t easy. I laughed when even Strava declared it “tough.” It wasn’t that fast but I’m in less good shape than September and I’m carrying some extra holiday weight. Oh, January. It’s nothing to panic about. I’ll lose the few pounds and regain the fitness. I do most every year.

What that means is that the false flats felt like actual hills. The headwind seemed fierce even though objectively I knew it wasn’t that bad. By the time we stopped for coffee, I needed the break. And the caffeine. But we noodled home along the bike path, dodging children, runners, and geese smiling all the way. It’s just so nice to be outside on a bike in January.

You can watch some of our ride here.

After, of course, we warmed up in the hot tub. And after that I cleaned all the road grime and grit off our bikes.

I smiled when I checked out our ride on Strava and saw that about half dozen friends across the province had taken similar advantage of this unusually warm January day.

It’s bedtime now and I can feel the ride in my legs but I’m still smiling. Definitely worth it!