It seems like everyone is talking about or doing cold water swimming. Of course, it’s been around for a long time (pretend I’ve inserted links here to historical polar bear swims in many places and times and locations). Sam just posted this morning about the siren call of the cold water that she’s hearing. Diane’s actually doing it, as well as guest blogger Lynette.
Once our crack administrative team at Fit is a Feminist Issue Headquarters has fixed on dates for our upcoming FIFI book club on Why We Swim, by Bonnie Tsui, I’ll be posting more information. We would love it if you wanted to join us in reading the book, and even posting some of your comments and sharing your experiences of swimming (in water of any temperature).
In the meantime, here are my current plans for cold-water-swimming-according-to-me:
Last Monday, I spontaneously dipped toes, then ankles, then almost-to-knees in the coldish water of Walden Pond on a warm spring day. I can’t find into on the water temps that day, but I’m thinking low 50sF/10-11c). Some swimmers in wetsuits were out in the water. Here’s documentation of my progress:
Up to my ankles and then knees in the chilly water of Walden Pond.
As I said, it was a lovely day.
The shimmering water of Walden Pond on a partly sunny, warm spring day.
This week, there are several warmish days. I’m going to be following the advice in Sam’s post and doing some slow dips/immersions/something, probably accompanied by squealing. I’ll wear a bathing suit or maybe bike shorts and sports bra. There’s a nice bathroom nearby for changing into warm dry clothes. Will report back (obvs).
Wish me luck!
Readers, what are your outdoor swimming activities like right now? Are you considering dipping toes in, waiting until warmer weather, already in a routine of swimming? We’d love to hear from you.
Here on the blog we’re having lots of thoughts about cold water!
Catherine dipped her toes in and is thinking about more. Blog regular Diane Harper wrote about winter swimming back when she was a guest poster. Another regular guest Lynette Reid has been tempting me in with her beautiful Nova Scotia winter swimming pictures. She blogged about it here. And I’m officially on record, along with Catherine, as intrigued and tempted. See also here.
We’re also, as a group, reviewing Why We Swim by Bonnie Tsui. We usually do it chapter by chapter, book club style, so readers can join in. Details to follow later this week! (And yes, in the interests of transparency, that’s an Amazon affiliate link. We don’t make much from them but they do cover the costs of an ad-free WordPress blog.)
The cover of Why We Swim
Here’s the back of the book blurb: “An immersive, unforgettable, and eye-opening perspective on swimming—and on human behavior itself. We swim in freezing Arctic waters and piranha-infested rivers to test our limits. We swim for pleasure, for exercise, for healing. But humans, unlike other animals that are drawn to water, are not natural-born swimmers. We must be taught. Our evolutionary ancestors learned for survival; now, in the twenty-first century, swimming is one of the most popular activities in the world. Why We Swim is propelled by stories of Olympic champions, a Baghdad swim club that meets n Saddam Hussein’s palace pool, modern-day Japanese samurai swimmers, and even an Icelandic fisherman who improbably survives a wintry six-hour swim after a shipwreck. New York Times contributor Bonnie Tsui, a swimmer herself, dives into the deep, from the San Francisco Bay to the South China Sea, investigating what about water—despite its dangers—seduces us and why we come back to it again and again.”
What’s ‘wild swimming’? As Rhiannon Lucy Cosslett in the Guardian notes we used to just call it ‘swimming’ or ‘outdoor swimming.’ It’s like ‘forest bathing’ which used to just be called ‘hiking in the woods.’ What’s new is an emphasis on the physical and mental health benefits. And wild swimming often involves swimming off season–not just in the hot summer months, but fall and spring, and for some of the braver souls like Diane and Lynette, wintertime too. I don’t think the term has quite taken off here in Canada like it has in the UK.
Why am I tempted at all? Here’s my two main reasons:
Fond childhood memories of Newfoundland and Nova Scotia. On the east coast of Canada the beaches always meant cold water swimming even in July and August. Mostly kids went in while adults huddled on shore. I want to recapture some childhood feels. Biking does that. Maybe cold water swimming will too?
I love swimming outside but I can’t seem to get into pool swimming. I like indoor rowing (hi erg!) and outdoor rowing. I love indoor biking (hey Zwift!) and outdoor riding. But swimming? Nope. No matter how much I try it’s never taken. But I love being in the water outdoors.
This picture always makes me laugh. It’s in PEI in August first of all. Also, my kids are frolicking in the outdoor swimming pool on family vacation. Me? I’ve become one of those adults huddled on shore, wearing Jeff’s polar fleece jacket, drinking Tim Hortons coffee, while the kids play and have fun in the water. What happened to me?
Okay how do I move from ‘feeling intrigued’ to ‘giving it a go’? I asked some of my winter swimming friends for advice. Should I wait until summer? Start now?
Albert Nerenberg, a friend from my undergrad student newspaper days, writes, “You can really start any time because the two key components are the breathing and the cold showers. You can get most of the benefits from cold immersion from those two practices. But people naturally escalate to outdoor swimming. Cold exposure doesn’t have to be long. 3-5 minutes for benefits. So anytime is good because the breath warm up can be done with even warmer water and you’re still in the process.”
Brrr!
Albert is an advocate of the health benefits of both cold water swimming and laughing. He combines them in this video.
Here’s the specific breathing technique Albert recommends.
Lynette’s words of wisdom? “One piece of advice people give is to acclimatize over a few years and extend the season rather than starting early. But last year I started early because who wants to hear that in April? Go in slowly (walk I don’t dive) and monitor your breathing so you start to notice when you involuntarily hold your breath or take a breath in and re-establish it before going in farther. Wind is a worse enemy than temperature.”
What about special gear? Do I need any?
“You can put neoprene gloves booties and a cap on. Or wetsuits or whatever versions of wetsuits triathletes wear which have greater mobility. Or your bathing suit. At the beginning you just get in and out. Dip. Swim later. Never push yourself with goals and expectations in cold water swimming. Get warm after,” says Lynette.
Also, research safety tips before you go. Here’s cold water tips from Outdoor Swimmer magazine and more tips from the outdoor swimming society.
Here’s Lynette, photos from her earlier post.
Diane also recommended safety first. (We’re like that here on the blog!)
She writes, “I would start with Nadine’s website, which has lots of info based on years of training for cold swimming. My advice would be to listen to your body and don’t ever push beyond your comfort zone. Everyone is different and some very experienced long-distance open water swimmers can’t get in, while other people find it relatively easy. Some use wetsuits, others don’t (I don’t because I worry about struggling to change out of a wetsuit when I’m cold). Personally, I found that just extending my season in the fall was the best way to do it. But when I was swimming today, I saw a man, a kid and a dog all in the water, so now is also manageable.”
The colder it is, the more you need to be concerned about safety.
“In cold weather, wind and precipitation can be brutal, both physically and psychologically. The usual water safety rules apply more than ever – swim with buddies, have a plan, know your swim area, wear a float for visibility, especially if there are boats or windsurfers in the area. Bring snacks for when you get out as you will be hungry – cake is traditional,” says Diane.
I wondered if most people actually swim in the water or if it’s more ‘get in, get out’ like the polar bear dip.
Diane says she actually swims.
“I actually swim, but there is usually some time spent getting acclimatized. Sometimes it’s all head’s up breaststroke because putting my face in is too hard. Today it was about 350 m I think, and I was in for a little over 20 minutes. I would have stayed in longer but my swimming buddy is new to it and she was starting to get cold. The colder it is, the harder it is, obviously. I have trained for an ice mile (bathing suit and one cap, not gloves or socks, in water under 5C). I will never do one because I’m just not fast enough to complete that distance in under about 40 minutes, which is extreme. But a day like today, with water at or above 10C, 45 minutes is easy now.”
Here’s Diane and her friend Nadine making the cold water look as welcoming as a hot tub.
What’s next? Well, I promise to give swimming outside this spring, earlier than usual, a go. And I’ll report back. If Catherine lived closer–damn you geography and borders–I’d give her a call and we’d go swimming together.
I also want to write about British swimmer Kate Steele who has done not one, not two, but EIGHT ice miles! What’s an ice mile? “Find a body of water that is below 5C, and swim one mile under supervision wearing only your swimming costume, a pair of goggles and one silicone swimming hat.”
And stay tuned for our group book review of Why We Swim.
Saturday was one of those glorious New England spring days– sunny, warm (70F/21C) and beckoning. Everyone heard that call, as I saw folks out on foot, on bikes, in kayaks– anywhere under blue sky.
My friend Norah and I headed to one of our favorite places, Walden Pond in Concord, MA. Yes, that Walden Pond. The one where Thoreau hung out (even though he regularly walked back to town to do his laundry and get a free meal from friends).
Postcard image of Walden Pond in spring. It wasn’t quite that green yesterday, but will be soon.
I had gone to Walden that Monday, too. It was a Boston holiday– Patriots’ Day— so I went in the early afternoon. It was warmish (64/18) and a little overcast. The pond and the trees and the beach all looked more brown than green still; spring is slow to arrive here, but the turn is always sudden.
Throughout the pandemic, I’ve been cautious– wearing a mask all the time outside my house, curtailing my activities, engaging in social distancing, etc. One of the effects for me has been difficulty in leaving my house, even under conditions of safety, like walking or riding outside. It’s been hard. I bet many of you reading this know exactly what I’m talking about.
Now I’m fulling vaccinated– thank you, J&J! One and done, with pretty mild short-term side effects. It’s been two weeks since my shot, so I can venture out (mask on still, but that’s okay) with more security.
But, like very big boats (I’m not naming names here), I don’t turn on a dime.
That boat (you know the one), stuck. Kind of like me, although I don’t have any satellite images of me hanging out in my living room.
Out by the pond on my own last Monday, I was feeling anxious–an altogether too-familiar sensation from the past 12 months. It’s brought on two very unpleasant anxiety attacks, and I still fear a return of them. Wearing a mask and trying to focus on my breathing, I made my way to the beach and spied a large rock in the distance. Claiming it as my own, I sat down and continued breathing and looking around.
I’m reading Why We Swim by Bonnie Tsui, (stay tuned for future FIFI book club posts on this book), and have been intrigued by the properties of cold water. She interviews people who do long-distance cold-water swimming, and also does some herself.
In that moment, sitting on that rock, looking at that brownish water, I was struck by the urge to feel some cold water on my body. Shedding my shoes and socks and rolling up my pant legs, I ventured in. It was indeed cold. And it was a strong sensation. It took over my awareness, and the anxiety receded. I became much more interested in exploring that feeling of the water, and waded out as far as I had bare skin to accommodate it.
It was wonderful.
So I did the same thing yesterday, talking Norah into joining me. She dipped her toes in, which was enough for her. Norah has been outside, walking and biking, throughout the pandemic. I’ve joined her a bit, and she’s been a great help to me. She even drove us together (we’ve both been vaccinated–yay again!) to Walden.
But on Saturday, the water was calling me, not her.
I waded in, and again it felt cold, and again it felt great.
We talked about coming back for swimming soon. Norah is no stranger to swimming in bracing water, but it’s still a bit cold for her. However, I think I may need to venture further in, and soon. It’s feeling both symbolic and practical. I’ve always loved swimming, but haven’t made much time for it in recent years. For me it’s great exercise, and the combo of the water and sky always makes me feel at one with the world.
Add to all this the feelings I’m getting of joy in sensation. Healing, even. Respite from anxiety. Can I wash that angst right out of my hair? I think I’m going to find out. Will report back.
Readers, what is calling to you these days? Anything? Everything? Are you finding new paths to the outside world? Have you been keeping to those paths throughout the pandemic? I’d love to hear from you.
I’m new to the blog and feel it’s important to toss out a disclaimer before I continue: I am unapologetically fat and super great with that. Now, you’re either tossing your hands in the air excitedly about that proclamation with a ‘yassss-girl-on-the-internet-I-don’t-know’ or you’ve hit the X and I lost you and that’s ok too. […]
A few years ago Jenn wrote this terrific post about the freedom to define fitness on your own terms. Loved that idea then and love it now, especially since during the pandemic, under varying degrees of lockdown and stay at home orders, fitness is doing different work than it used to.
Has the role fitness plays in your life changed during the pandemic? How? Tell us your fitness story in the comments?
Fitness is freedom. I wonder how many of us have ever considered this sage bit of philosophizing. I hadn’t. As I whizzed down an aisle in our local supermarket a week or so ago, following the COVID arrows in the right direction in order to get to my intended target of the far end of […]
This Saturday it’s our guest post day but we don’t have a guest. Instead we’re reblogging a post from another WordPress blog about the idea of fitness as freedom, especially in your senior years.
Thanks Robby Robins for this way of thinking about fitness. What do you think? Is fitness a kind of freedom for you?
This week’s link round up focuses on weight loss. If you want to know why a fitness blog cares so much about body image and weight loss, you can read this.
Tl;dr: “Body image is connected to fitness in a variety of ways. It’s both the motivation for lots of women to pursue physical activity. I’ll solve my body image issues by improving my body! Body image anxiety is also the reason lots of women don’t exercise. I can’t go to the gym. I’m too fat! Both of these sets of motivations are problematic.”
“At any given time, about half of all Americans are trying to lose weight — and we can assume it will be even more than that once everyone emerges from our collective bread-and-cookie-insulated quarantine cocoon. That means millions of people are doing keto, paleo, intermittent fasting, Optavia, Atkins, and all the other diets (many of which we’ve explained and reviewed on GH) that limit what, when and how you eat. And as you can tell from all those “before and after” Instagram shots, some dieters do lose weight — at least at first. But for the majority it inevitably comes back, potentially leading to guilt, disappointment, and the biggest question of all: What am I doing wrong? Why can’t I keep off the weight?
“Low-fat, low-carb, Paleo, keto, South Beach, intermittent fasting—the list goes on. Given that our culture idealizes thinness and shuns larger bodies, it’s not surprising that nearly one in five midlife women has dieted in the past few years, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. And many have regained the weight and see themselves as having failed. Less than 1% of very large people got to a “normal” weight at all in a study that included almost 100,000 women, and most who did regained the pounds they had lost within five years.
Some medical experts are now saying what many of us have been desperate to hear: It’s extremely tough to drop weight long-term, for reasons that have nothing to do with willpower—and it may not even be necessary.”
“The message that “good parents” can and should control the number on the scale is literally tearing families apart. Should your child’s weight determine your fitness to be a parent? According to a family court judge in Sussex, England, the answer seems to be yes. In a decision filed last October, which recently made international headlines, District Judge Gillian Ellis ordered that then–16-year-old “Child C” and 13-year-old “Child D” be placed in foster care after their parents failed to help them lose weight. “I know that you love your mother and father very much and I know they love you too,” Ellis wrote. “But I am concerned about your health and the way in which your weight impacts on this.”
“Why is it so hard to lose weight? Here’s one reason: A lot of what we all take for granted about weight loss is unproven or flat-out wrong. That’s the bottom line from a special article published in 2013 in the New England Journal of Medicine. The article laid out what works and what doesn’t, and detailed the commonly held weight loss beliefs that are not supported by research. The review also unveiled some of the theories that have not been proven or disproven. Here are some of the most surprising theories, plus what science really says about them”
“Man, I really wanted to write a long post about how much better and smarter and amazing I am now that I’ve lost 100 pounds. How much thinner I am. Maybe some clever words about my poor boobs, and about my clothes, and then I could post some before-and-afters, and then the congratulations could pour in. But the truth is so much more complicated. Losing 100 pounds doesn’t make you smarter, more organized, or able to find your car keys. It doesn’t make me a better wife, a better mother, or a better writer. Really, it just makes me smaller. And squishier. And more confused than ever about the role of women and weight and hunger and exercise and our culture. So instead I wrote to Roxane Gay, who seems to write about weight and women with raw truth and clarity. And I’m grateful for it.”
A woman on a treadmill wearing a blue and grey shirt and khaki pants. Photo by Julia Larson on Pexels.com
A couple of weeks ago we watched as Rachael Homan won her grand slam title in curling three weeks after giving birth. This was presaged by her big win when she was eight months pregnant, just a few weeks before.
The media was agog: she was inspirational, a super woman. Homan herself was careful to say her experience was not one every one could replicate. She told CBC Sports: “I want to be clear that every pregnancy, delivery and recovery is different and you can’t compare from person to person. I feel so fortunate to be able to play and I know that wouldn’t be the case for a lot of people.”
I think it is great that we no longer treat pregnancy as a time of fragility. Yes, some pregnancies can be precarious, and luckily, for most conditions, we have options, treatments, and interventions. I also think it’s great that if you are a fit and active person before achieving pregnancy, you are encouraged and supported in being fit and active during pregnancy and after.
There’s been a trend though to treat pregnancy as a time of fatness; to see the weight gained to grow a tiny human as a negative unless you can achieve a perfect basketball shaped bump. And horrors, should you gain weight and change shape in a non-artistic manner, then it would behoove you to eliminate the weight and return your body to its pre-pregnancy shape as quickly as possible once the tiny human arrives.
There are any number of reasons an individual can return to a pre-pregnancy state swiftly. Some are good and some are not. There are also any number of reasons a person could achieve an international curling title before delivery of tiny human and also achieve a record breaking grand slam title after.
The big issue here is there’s a lot we don’t know about pregnancy, athleticism, and post partum recovery. Standard advice today says eat well and be reasonably active, but there’s a lot of safety, caution, and care wrapped up in that package. While it might be reasonable not to pick up running while pregnant if you’ve done neither before, what if you were always training hard for competition? What’s reasonable or safe then?
Go back a few decades and you’ll find moderate to challenging exercise was a non-no during pregnancy. Was this evidence-based? Nope. Pregnancy was a get-out-of-research card and there were, and likely still, biases and assumptions baked into those guidelines.
It wasn’t that long ago that female athletes delayed child bearing until after the pinnacle of their athletic career, while others risked injury for returning too soon post partum because they needed the income and to keep their sponsorships. Check out this link for some forward-thinking work that resulted in paid maternity leave for pro athletes.
When I was pregnant, a little more than 20 years ago now, I maintained a level of fitness that was pretty consistent. In fact, I was an active potter and kept working in clay up until my eighth month. I stopped only because the baby bump got in the way of my reaching the wheel. I also moved house part way through that pregnancy and held down a demanding job. I didn’t worry about maternity fashion, I ate well, and I walked a lot. Post delivery, I focused on recovery from a difficult birth and enjoyed achieving my goal — a healthy happy baby.
Homan also had goals and she met them. Yay Homan! Many athletes are training and competing while pregnant, and it shouldn’t be that big a deal when they recover and return to competition after they deliver. They know how to train and they know how to fuel their muscles. What really matters is making room for that kind of recovery and also for the kind that requires more time and care.
So just because Homan did doesn’t mean you have to. Is she super human? Perhaps. She’s very fit, very skilled, and an amazing curler. Is she inspirational? Probably. If you too entertain dreams of winning titles before and after pregnancy, great.
But if you aren’t, that’s okay. You don’t have to accept Homan’s bar of success as your own.
It’s all right to treat yourself kindly while growing a tiny human. It’s hard work. It’s okay to eat well, work out, and feel good about the process. It’s okay to cocoon and nest. Pick a reasonable goal for you; develop a realistic plan to make it happen, and then get to work.
What you can take away is Homan’s own advice: “every pregnancy, delivery, and recovery is different and you can’t compare from person to person.” Or as SamB often says, you do you.
Look how innocent and sweet Emmylou looks. Until she tries to murder me. Or a sparrow.
The other day, my cats were loudly demanding dinner, and I was walking toward their dishes and simultaneously trying to open a new bag of dental kibble. As usual, not paying much attention to where I was walking. The round ball of fur that is Emmylou snaked around my feet and tripped me. As she yowled, I did an agile little dance to free myself of her without stepping on her, dropped the kibble and executed a perfect little chataranga onto the edge of my kitchen island, avoiding smashing my face into the granite.
Functional fitness, baby. That’s what all those early morning squats and lifts and mobilizations have been about.
I wrote last week about how unmotivating movement is for me — and many others — right now. Other bloggers, including Sam and Catherine, chimed in with how one of the only things getting them to the yoga mat or the bike seat is thinking about all of the things they are going to want to do in the summer — camping, hiking, riding. That’s functional fitness right there: the movement that prepares you for other movement.
I was thinking about my relationship to functional movement during my virtual superhero workout this morning. I was noting how hard it is for me to do a squat with complete precision holding an 18 lb kettlebell — and contrasting that to the devil-may-care squats I used to do in the before times with 100+ lbs of barbell on my shoulders. That was just “grin and bear it,” brute force grunting. Now, I’m focusing on the kinds of movement that make it possible for me to sit at my desk in the zoom for hours and hours and then stand up without pain, go for a walk or short run without triggering the daisy chain of middle-aged aches I’ve come to know so well. (Here, have some morton’s neuroma in your left foot (stabbing pain #1!), and add crappy hip mobility, which causes pain in both knees and the occasional acute flare up in my SI joints (stabbing pain #2!) and don’t forget the shoulder impingement that makes lifting my left arm SOMETIMES, unpredictably, the kind of thing that suddenly makes me screech and fall to the floor (STABBING PAIN #3!), and sometimes just like doot de doo, all is fine).
As we did carefully curated split squats this morning, Alex reminded us that this is the kind of movement that make it possible to run, to walk, and to continue running and walking as we age. So after class, I asked them “what ONE thing would you recommend right now for functional movement?”
Alex being Alex, they responded “YES! What a great question! Do you want psychological or physiological tips?”
BOTH please, I said. So here’s their advice.
Physiological I would say we’re missing out on “openness” right now- both in terms of the world around us, but also our bodies. How do we expand our body and open it up compared to our constant states of being hunched over a phone or a computer, sitting, rounded. I would suggest a mid back or hip elevated shavasana daily to decompress.
Really any movement is good movement right now, but especially those that open us up. Neck circles, that kneeling hip flexor stretch with the side lean that I love.
Alex demonstrating elevated savasana, with Martie in the background.
On the psych side, I would say less is more right now- this pandemic is traumatic and tiny movement promises to yourself go a long way. Try and pick one small habit that’s so manageable you almost feel like it’s “not enough” and do it daily. This can be doing a wide leg fold while you’re waiting for your coffee to brew, or 3 squats while you brush your teeth.
Here is a link to Alex’ program offerings — there are live classes, video on demand and one on one coaching. All infused with the kind of philosophy that will let you be in your body in a way so you can trip over your cat and not smash your head in.
Fieldpoppy is Cate Creede, who is very grateful for the Virtual Superhero workouts she’s been doing about four times a week for more than a year now. It doesn’t matter where she actually lives because she hasn’t really left the house since October.Here she is with the less murdery cat, Georgia.
Today is National Banana Day. Who knew? Well, Sam did, and duly informed all of us at Fit is a Feminist Issue Central. So, here I am with your first (and perhaps only– we shall see how this one goes) National Banana Day post.
Who here had a bicycle with a banana seat? Anyone? Anyone?
I certainly did. Mine looked something like this (my mom is guarding all my childhood pictures at her house far away, so this is from the internet):
Kids’ turquoise blue bike with long mustache handlebars and a white banana seat, covered with flower power stencils. Lookin shahp…
Mine had a white plastic woven basket on the front, also with groovy flowers on it. I don’t think streamers were de rigeur at the time (mine was circa 1969/70), but I wouldn’t have minded either way. Here’s an ad with a lineup of new bikes and a girl dressed in late 60s/early 70s fashion:
Ad for girls’ Spyder bikes, in different colors, some with baskets with flowers. Plaid bell bottoms sold separately.
I rode my banana seat bike endlessly up and down the driveway, and even sometimes out on the road in our suburban development in Florence, South Carolina. Eventually, I screwed up my courage to ride down the very-steep-to-me hill which was a neighbor’s driveway. It was the most thrilling thing I’d ever done. Riding fast down steep-to-me hills is still the most thrilling thing I ever do. Different bike with helmet, but same feeling– wheeeee!
Bananas are not just a design win. They are also good as food, whether on the bike or off. They fit easily into a jersey pocket and come with their own sanitary carrying case.
A somewhat ripe banana, in someone’s jersey pocket.
But, if you’re feeling pressed for pocket space or worried about bruising, there are options:
from left: leather bespoke top tube carrying case for one banana; same case on the handlebars for triathletes; and 3D-printed combo banana cage and bottle cage for your down tube.
Bananas are perennial sources of fun and humor for cyclists. This week during one of the Spring Classics (European road/cobblestone/mud bike races), someone made everyone smile with this tweet:
A rider making his way up the cobblestones, and it looks like he has an enormous banana in his pocket. But he doesn’t, really. Which is the funny thing.
Finally, bananas can be a bike fashion statement. At least for me and my friends.
Rachel, me and Steph at Halloween bike ride– two bananas and Cruella de Vil.
Janet, second from right, joined us as the third banana in our bunch of Halloween bike riders.
In summary, bananas and bikes go together like peanut butter and jelly. Or bread and butter. Or Coffee and doughnuts. Or your favorite combo– you choose…
So readers, how are you planning on spending National Banana Day? I have to work (rats!) but will celebrate by making… wait for it… banana nutella muffins! Get the recipe here.
Creativity is beneficial for its own sake, of course. Not only is creativity enjoyable, but the mindfulness and presence required helps us to relax and to focus. It feels good to get in a creative ‘zone.’
And since the abilities that we hone in creative practice are helpful for solving problems, our creativity is also good for the world.
I quote this at least once a week to someone. It’s an excellent argument practicing creative thinking. Image description: A photo of a tree and a path in the foreground and a panoramic of water, hills and trees in the background. Overlaid text reads ‘We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them. – Albert Einstein’
And now that you know that Wednesday is World Creativity and Innovation Day, you can also think of your workout tomorrow as a warm-up for any creativity activity or problem solving you have to do. (And, as Sam reminds us, warm-ups are very important.)
Lots of people swear that going for a walk helps them to be more creative and think of new solutions to the challenges that they face.
But, if walking isn’t your thing, any sort of moderate exercise seems to help so choosing your favourite exercise can help you prepare to be part of creative problem solving tomorrow.
Adriene even has a practice that may help you:
Have you found a connection between your exercise plan and your creativity and problem solving abilities?
Tell us about it in the comments!
PS – If you ALREADY have a creative practice in place, here are a few stretching programs I found that can help keep you feeling good physically while you think creatively.
Here’s a Dr. Jo video showing some hand, wrist, neck & shoulder exercises for artists.
And here’s a video showing some specific hand exercises for artists and animators.
And this is one of my favourite Yoga with Adriene videos – Yoga for Writers
