So far here on the ship I’ve found a few fitness options on board. We only have two days out of twelve total when we’re at sea. But when we had one, I wandered around scoping out my options for staying active.
First, there are fitness classes. There’s yoga and spin and social walking/jogging groups.
Second, there’s a salt water pool. I described it as a wave pool (it’s very wavy) but Susan pointed out that it’s likely just the motion of the boat causing the waves. It’s salt water, which I like, and not too warm. I like that. I was worried it would be hot.
Third, there’s the walking/running track above the pool. It’s busy in the morning and there are some serious runners and walkers up there.
Fourth, there is a gym. It’s got some weight machines, two benches, all the dumbbells, treadmills galore, one rowing machine and some elliptical trainers.
So what did I do?
First step, as always, everyday was knee physio in our room.
Second, I did a lot of lifting with dumbbells in the gym. One weird thing is that the ship’s motion is a lot more noticeable when you’re lying on a bench with fifty lbs over your head. There’s a lot of extra stabilization involved.
Third, I jogged in the salt water pool and chatted with some Australian women about the South Pacific. Like, why are you here? Isn’t it warm at home? Aren’t a lot of the birds and plants the same? They were fascinated by the islands and their history and this is a great way to see them.
I’d count this fitness activity on our day at sea as a success.
I have a love/hate relationship with Olympics TV coverage– it’s thrilling to see such a wide variety of sports, but annoying that shows focus on the #26 American competitor at the expense of seeing a great final that doesn’t include any US athletes. Maybe I’m wrong, but it seems to me that this year’s coverage is better; we get to see more big chunks of events, rather than just snippets of individual performances. Here are some tremendous victories from female athletes that just blew me away:
Marit Bjoegen of Norway skied to victory in the final leg of the women’s 4 x 5 (km) relay cross country ski race, winning her 13th career Olympic gold medal. That ties the Olympic record (with fellow Norwegian Ole Einar Bjoerndalen). Here she is, crossing the line:
Marit Bjoergen of Norway, crossing the line to victory for her 13th Olympic gold medal.
Bjoergen is 37, a fact that was mentioned by the commentators approximately every 17 seconds during her final leg. Sweden’s Stina Nilsson, who is 24– “13 years younger!” the commentators kept exclaiming– was hot on her heels, but couldn’t hang on up the final hill. The Norwegian team is a powerhouse, and Ragnahild Haga set up the team for victory by erasing a 30-second deficit in the third leg to set up Bjoergen.
What a race! I was moving my feet in unconscious solidarity with the skiers, and marveling at their stamina and strength and technique and speed.
Speaking of speed, how about Korean short-track speed skater Choi Min-jeong? She’s 19 (it’s very important we know how old everyone is, it seems), and just blew the doors off of her competition in the 1500-meter final. I don’t know much (by much, I mean anything) about short track speed skating, but it seems balletic and also impossible– the skaters create an instant pace line, with some of them occasionally moving to the front. There’s all sorts of strategy (completely unknown to me), but it continues on, so graceful– they are fluid and consistent in their motion.
Olympic women’s 500-meter short track speed skaters in motion.
Then all hell breaks loose, and I’m a bit confused, very excited, and trying to look everywhere at once. Choi Min-jeong had made her move, skating on the outside with explosive speed to take first place, and continued accelerating as she crossed the finish line.
Choi Min-jeong, winning the gold in the women’s 1500-meter short track speed skating final, with the rest of the pack way behind her, wondering what happened.
Speaking of wondering what happened, how about that Ester Ledecka, the Czech world-champion snowboarder who also competed in super-G giant slalom? She WON the competition, using someone else’s skis– apparently she borrowed them from American competitor Mikaela Shiffrin. Whoa.
Ledecka (along with the announcers and the entire crowd watching the event) was initially confused about the outcome. Here she is, trying to parse the information:
Ester Ledecka, looking at the results board.
When it became clear that she had won, it finally started to sink in.
Ester Ledecka, her arms up in a V for victory gesture.
By the way, she’s 22.
All this enormous effort– a tiny show reflecting years of hard work and privation– and the joy it brings makes me happy about my own movement triumphs. And it motivates me to get out there (wherever there is…) to set my own records, however I see them.
Does the Olympics affect you in your plans and feelings about your own movement? I’d love to hear from you.
I work on the campus of a research institute with lots of scientists working round the clock to get out their next, hopefully highly-cited, paper, knowing full well that their career hinges on being faster, better, more hard-working than the person next door.
Unsurprisingly, a lot of these people aren’t just competitive in research, but in all aspects of their lives, including fitness. One colleague of mine referred to it as a “cesspool of incredibly fit people”. Personally, I’ve left research in favour of a career in research management. But that doesn’t mean I don’t have a competitive streak of my own.
I exercise quite a lot, swimming, running, and bouldering mostly. I love hiking, kayaking, and surfing, although I don’t do much of the latter two these days, mostly for want of a large enough body of water nearby. I enjoy all of it immensely most of the time.
The problem is: I’m not good at any of it, or at least not what people generally define as “good”. I’m not strong, or fast, or well-coordinated. And I constantly compare myself to others.
The reason I mentioned my workplace before is that I sometimes go running with a group of colleagues at lunchtime. Our campus is located outside the city on a hill in the forest, which is perfect for that. Most of them are faster than me, in fact I’m frequently the slowest member of the group by some distance.
I boulder with a group of people a couple of times a week. Most of them can do harder routes than me, even the ones who have started bouldering later.
And in the pool, I compare myself to the people who are faster, not those who are slower. Every so often, I come home from exercising feeling frustrated and bitterly complain to my husband.
Why can’t I be better at sports? What’s the point of doing it if I won’t ever be any “good”? I like the social element of exercising in a group, but I can’t seem to stop comparing myself to others. And so my competitiveness sometimes gets in the way of my enjoyment.
I sometimes wonder if this is related to the way society expects women to give 150% in order to be considered “successful” (or even adequate). Or is it just my own personality? Am I intrinsically competitive, or have I been socialised to be that way, through the environment I grew up in and the academic training I’ve received?
As usual, the answer is probably “a bit of everything”. The thing is, in sports I don’t owe anyone anything. As long as I enjoy doing it, it shouldn’t matter if I’m any “good” at it. And yet.
So I’m interested: how do others cope with their own competitiveness? Does it affect your enjoyment of exercise if you work out with people who are better than you?
Bettina is a political scientist-turned-science-manager and feminist from Germany, where she now lives after stints in the UK and Spain. She enjoys sports, reading, food, and travelling.
Picture of Bettina in a green running shirt after completing an 8k race on New Year’s Eve 2017, during which she couldn’t stop comparing herself to other runners, but had fun nevertheless.
I fell victim to an interesting Instagram ad this week and ended up downloading a fitness app that catapulted me into this post.
Perhaps it should not have been surprising to me that an exercise app demanded to know my weight before it let me continue. And perhaps I wasn’t surprised, I was just annoyed.
Here is the thing. I do not know my weight. I have not for years. When I go to a doctor who wants to put me on a scale, I decide whether it is worth protesting, but if I do step on to the scale, I do not look at the information.
Despite my disdain for our diet- and weight-oriented culture, I live in it, so I am susceptible to its tricks. So, if I know those numbers then I start to focus on them – about whether they are too much, about whether they are going up or down. And that is not how I want to spend my time or energy, so I just don’t.
I prefer to measure myself by how I feel and how I can move and by whether I can do the things I want to do with ease. I like to work toward getting better or more effective at something rather than trying to reach a certain weight.
I know I am likely preaching to the feminist choir here, but sometimes things bear repeating.
And I can see times when it would be useful to know your weight (or for someone to) – if you were receiving anesthetic, if you were deciding how many ceiling hooks were needed for your yoga hammock, if you needed safety gear, for example.
However, I do not think it is useful for my app to operate that way. I get that many people are interested in losing weight and so they are orienting it to them. But even though I had selected getting stronger as my goal, I was still supposed to jump through the hoop of selecting my weight.
And sure, I could have picked any old weight and put that in but I did not know how they were going to use the information to determine what the program showed me. I did not want inaccurate information to limit what was being offered. I did not want to have my challenges reduced or increased based on nothing.
I wanted to be able to select a goal that was meaningful to me. However, the questions they asked limited what my goals could be. In fact, they limited what I could even think of as goals – at least within the program. And I am sure that it happens with some actual trainers and the like, too. The fact that so many people have been guided into wanting to lose weight has created a situation where program entrance questions are based on the assumption that weight loss is a standard goal.
I would rather that the app (or a trainer!) ask me how many reps I can do of certain exercises and use that in their algorithms. After all, my weight tells them virtually nothing about me – nothing about my fitness level, my strength, my endurance, It gives them no useful information at all, just a quick metric that they can use to indicate that their program is successful.
Added bonus: Going for a walk gave me the chance to take a photo of these rocks that had been covered by ice during a period of freezing rain. They look a bit like beach rocks.
The thing that gets me, of course, is that it is not a good measure of success. It would just tell them (and me) about the difference in numbers. It would not indicate health, strength, or anything else that might serve me well. It would only give me a number that might soothe my brain (if I was into that stuff) or that might get other people off my case (if anyone around me was invested in my size).
It irritates me (obviously) and it frustrates me because there are so many other ways to design a program so that it will serve people well.
When I downloaded the app, I did not want all this thinking and wondering. I just wanted to see what the exercise was that they had in the ad for the app – it looked fun.
I ended up just deleting the whole thing and going for a walk.
That *was* fun. I achieved my goals of moving around and of being outside, AND I didn’t have to weigh myself to participate.
Plus, I got a cool photo of some rocks.
Note: Knowing your weight might serve you well. It does not serve me well.
I’ve been a bit weepy lately about kids and parents, life stages, and all that. Maybe it’s menopause, maybe it’s moving, maybe it’s my knee, maybe it’s all these things
If you have sons and you’re worried about their futures, and their relationship with one another, go read Brother by David Chariandry. Brother is a stunning novel, beautiful and heart breaking, but it might make you cry. I’m crying anyway so it’s okay.
Also, the audio book is wonderful.
Of course 20, like 50, is just a number but it means I’m no longer the parent of teenagers. That’s been a huge part of my identity.
I’ve loved parenting teenagers. It’s been the hardest and most rewarding part of parenting. During the best/worst of it I once posted to Facebook about thinking there ought to be parental leave for parents of teenagers. Turns out I’m not the first person to have this idea. See here.
It’s all of the ‘meaning of life’ stuff and the navigating first serious adult relationships that was challenging. Add to that first jobs, learning to drive, and school getting serious. Oh, and sprinkle it all with experiments involving drugs and alcohol. So not easy.
Mostly I think of parenting as a gender neutral thing but sometimes I’ve felt like the ‘mother of teenagers’ like the ‘mother of dragons.’ Teenagers are a lot like dragons.
I terrified friends with babies and toddlers by offering to swap for some weekends. I looked fondly back on the years when their needs were simple and obvious: food, books, hugs, sleep, etc.
But I also loved having a full house of their friends… the ballet dancers, the football players, the various choirs. We could never decide if it was a good thing or a bad thing that the hot tub served as a teenager magnet. Mostly though I liked having them at home.
I know I’m not going straight into the empty nest years. One of the twenty somethings still lives at home and another is just away at university. And we’re planning active summer holidays together. Weekends with canoes, bikes, and hiking/camping.
But life with teenagers is over and I’m sad about that.
It’s been awhile since we’ve blogged about the objectification of female athletes, five years in fact. But since it’s the Olympics that post is trending again.
And that’s odd because just yesterday Susan and I were watching women’s snowboarding on television and looking on in awe as Italy’s Michela Moioli won gold in women’s snowboard cross. Such athleticism. Such remarkable young women. So much talent and skill.
Also, aside from ponytails peeking out from under helmets I had to look at the screen and listen to see whether I was watching the men’s or the women’s event.
I briefly allowed myself the thought that one advantage of the women’s Olympic events is that with all the gear sports announcers stay away from comments about the athletes’ bodies. Hah! So naive. So wrong. Silly me.
Even dressed in snowboarding gear that’s that not enough though for some male sports commentators to keep their focus on athleticism and performance.
“After Kimwon the gold medal in women’s halfpipeon Tuesday, Barstool Sports commentator Patrick Connor, who also appears on San Francisco-based KNBR, appeared on the “Dialed-In with Dallas Braden” show on Barstool Radio’s SiriusXM channel and made a series of inappropriate comments about Kim. “She’s fine as hell,” Connor said. “If she was 18, you wouldn’t be ashamed to say that she’s a little hot piece of ass. And she is. She is adorable. I’m a huge Chloe Kim fan.”
An athlete wears red sneakers with a kettle bell next to their feet
Two weeks ago, I had a day in the gym that was perfect. Every motion flowed like silk. After having a pause for the holidays, getting back in the groove felt great.
Last week, while my form was still on point, the flow was uneven. I finally understood what competition commenters mean when they say a lifter grinds out a set.
The amount of effort to move the plates was huge, at least for the first lift of the set. The speed picked up for each one after that first time, but still over the course of the session, my trainer and I could see that my brain and my legs were fighting each other on my first approach to the bar.
These weren’t lightweights, but neither were they really heavy ones either. And yet, they resisted movement. Each time I started a set, I dragged that bar over my shins, knees to finally come to rest at the hip.
My trainer made a couple of suggestions on modifying my approach. She showed me three different ways people set up at the bar. We split one approach into smaller steps, and I worked through each one to finally find the right stance for me.
I was so excited I wanted to try a whole new set, but alas, it was the end of the session, and I knew too well that my unrestrained enthusiasm could lead to a wrong move and that could lead to injury. As I had just reached one year without any complaint from the wonky hip, I had to concede. But at my next session, I promised myself, I would remember the tweaks and try them again.
That same day I received cartoon celebrating the knowledge we gain from failure. The cartoonist observed “Failure just means not yet.” It made me think a little more deeply about the reluctant bar.
Had I just kept on getting smooth as silk lifts with these lower weights, what would have happened once I aimed for the higher weights I want to try this year? Without learning some of the tricks and tips to adjust or modify my approach before trying again, I might have stayed stuck for a whole lot longer and experienced significant frustration at not moving forward (or upward as the case may be).
I’m trying to document some of these insights, along with the PRs and the key anniversaries (yay one year without a recurrence!) so that I can see all the ways I am moving forward even when it feels by only one metric like I’m not. What are other ways we can measure progress or changes in our fitness that are meaningful and realistic?
— MarthaFitat55 enjoys powerlifting even when the bar fights her command.
As Tracy blogged earlier today not all travel is alike when comes to fitness opportunities.
This week thanks to the world’s best sister in law I’m in the South Pacific on a cruise. Specifically we’re on this boat cruising around French Polynesia. We’re having a wonderful time.
Here’s the view from our balcony as I write this:
One of my goals for this holiday, since it’s long and it’s warm, is to stay active. I’m also itching to get moving now I’m no longer in constant knee pain. On day 1 that just meant carrying suitcases, flying 14 hours, and doing physio for my knee once we’re ensconced in our cabin.
Day 2 had us anchored off the atoll of Fakarava. What’s an atoll? Don’t worry. I had to look this up too. An atoll is “a ring-shaped reef, island, or chain of islands formed of coral.”
Fakarava is known to be one of the best diving destinations in the world. We weren’t there to dive though and we only had an afternoon to spend on the island. If you have more time here is a handy guide. It’s a fun read.
So what did we do instead? We rented bikes and biked along the paved road the runs along the windward side of the atoll. The bikes were basic cruiser style bikes with baskets. But that didn’t matter. The bikes fit the mood of the place.
We went out with the wind behind us and turned about after about 10 km.
Most people just stuck to the beach-y side of the island but the bikes allowed us to explore a bit more. The two sides of the island looked pretty different.
I was also very excited since this was my first time on a bike since before I knew about my knee injury. I stopped riding outside early this year. Needless to say, there was a very big smile on my face.
Image description: Bike rental shed though even rented from a competitor.
After our bike ride we went for a swim. The water was bright blue and 80 degrees. Just gorgeous.
Image description: Sam lying on her back in the blue Pacific ocean.
Oh, and after we were out of the water two Germans came running over to point out a shark swimming through the coral. My first shark sighting ever.
Today, we’re at sea so I’ll probably hit the boat’s fitness center.
On the flight home they gave me a New York Times and on the back page it had an article called “Getting in exercise while you travel.” Various of us have blogged about travel and exercise. Cate recently wrote a fabulous post about running in every place she visits. I loved that post and felt inspired by it.
I typically do run when I travel. I had an amazing experience on a running tour in Edinburgh last summer, and I usually make a point of getting out for at least one run wherever I am.
But, I had read somewhere that it is almost impossible to run in India except on treadmills in hotels that are high end enough to have fitness centres.
Even the travel tips in the article I mentioned at the beginning mention bike rides and walking tours. Now it’s true that you can get in a walking tour in India if you want, but for me a walk needs to be fairly brisk before it counts as exercise. And I don’t think brisk walking is advisable. And there is not a lot you could do to get me on a bicycle here. I’m terrified enough of biking on the road in Canada, let alone here.
Image description: A crowd of motorcycles, yellow auto-rickshaws, and cars wait in a pack at a busy intersection in Chennai for the light to turn green. In the background: green leafy trees on the right, street lights and a blue road sign above the road that says Sastri Bhavan (pointing left) and College Road (pointing right) and the same in Tamil script, a tall building with blue reflective windows in the distance. Photo: Tracy Isaacs
The traffic is not like anything I’ve ever experienced. It’s an adventure, that’s for sure. But not one I’d like to experience on a bicycle.
And though there is a lot to love about India (a LOT), the pedestrian infrastructure is not among those lovable things. The sidewalks are routinely blocked and there are dangerous potholes that could injure you badly if you stumbled into one. For example:
Image description: ground level angle showing a big hole in the sidewalk, beyond that is the road with a car and motorcycle and yellow auto-rickshaw, and and a parked motorcycle.Image description: old wooden wagon with metal wheels at the side of the road. A women in yellow, green and blue walks on the road beside it.Image description: woman in bright colours walking on the road, away from the direction of the camera towards a yellow truck. The sidewalk on her left is totally blocked by debris and a rusted trailer.
That this makes it difficult to be a non-disabled runner or pedestrian is obvious. I can’t imagine trying to navigate these same roads with mobility issues.
So yes, I can take the tips about doing a hotel room workout or stretching my calves while waiting in line. But travel tips for getting in exercise aren’t always universal, and it’s not always possible to do what we’re used to doing at home when we’re abroad.
My favourite thing to do in India was to take my camera with me everywhere I went and take pictures. I would not trade that experience for anything else in the world, not even clear sidewalks and cooler temperatures to make for pleasant running.
I’m heading home now and will be hitting the Canadian pavement as soon as I get there.
When an active and inspiring friend and colleague invited me to join the 218 Workouts in 2018 group, I eagerly joined. I started my fitness journey three years ago, and went from being pretty inactive to regularly getting in 6 workouts per week. I was excited to tally my efforts.
I was enjoying a lazy day and hadn’t planned to do a workout on January 1st, but when I logged into Facebook late in the day and saw tons of “218 in 2018” posts all over my newsfeed, I decided then and there to stand up and do something active. Just 15 minutes of lower body stuff (squats, lunges) and some yoga poses and stretching all while watching TV. I counted it. Workout #1. It was purposeful movement. The posts from the group members made me do it. I didn’t want to fall behind.
Most of my workouts are typically more intense. I take two 55 minute spin classes each week and get in three 90 minute strength sessions plus a yoga or movement class. But, on a day last week that I just couldn’t bear to go out through the snow to go to the gym, I still managed a 30 minute yoga video that I found on Youtube and did in my living room. It counted. Workout #33. Purposeful movement counts in my books.
In addition to being motivated by contributing and being a part of the Facebook group, I also decided to track my minutes per workout and totals in my spreadsheet. In the first 6 weeks of the year, I have spent over 2500 active minutes in the gym! That’s incredibly motivating to know, and I feel proud, empowered and strong!
I relished adding two entries today having done spin and then a movement class. I have discovered I am a bit competitive (or maybe very competitive!?) even if it’s just with myself to keep up my pace.
Leslie chooses to be active to focus on overall health and wellbeing and to set a good example for her family. As pictured in the photo, Leslie spins in the SPIN To Conquer Cancer fundraising event in support of Princess Margaret Cancer Centre, raising research dollars in memory of her friend Ellen who passed way from Multiple Myeloma in March 2015. https://pmhf3.akaraisin.com/SPIN2CC/LeslieZ
When an active and inspiring friend and colleague invited me to