fitness

Taking time to notice

It’s almost the first day of spring. We haven’t had much of a winter given the lack of snow. Since we’ve been dealing with the pandemic for so long, one could be forgiven for not really noticing the transition from one season to another.

But the other day, it was lovely: a blue sky, sunshine, not too much wind. I could hear birds chirping in the trees. I could hear the water running from the melting ice and snow.

I never know how to describe the scent of spring. It is a combination of thawing earth, the heat of rotting leaves, the sweetness of cedar mulch.

Then there is the feel of your feet on the ground, still hard but also slightly yielding and a weird springiness that feels odd after the crunch of snow and ice. The shiver of surprise when you can feel, see and hear that spring is really coming.

But what made the day extra special was that it was my first day in the gym in three months. As I walked in, I started paying attention to what I was feeling and seeing.

The slide of the straps on my feet in the erg. The way my fingers curled on the bar as I rowed. The rhythm of the push and pull matching my breath in and out.

I had been afraid that the interval away would mean I had forgotten what to do. Yet as soon as I felt the solidness and hot/cold texture of the weight in my hands, it came back.

It was hard doing movements I had not done for a while. I realized in some respects it was the shape of things. A 25 pound hand weight doesn’t move the same way a 25 pound bag of potatoes does.

I realized I missed the repetition of training and how sets evolve from awkwardness to fluidity, from the “i am not sure how to do this” to ”i see how this works.” I also missed the satisfaction that comes from the deliberate demand on and stress of muscles.

It was a good day outside and a good day inside.

Small white spring flowers, Unsplash

marthafitat55 lives and trains in st. John’s.

fitness

6-week Half Marathon Training

Sometime in the past week, one of the thoughts going through my head, in the middle of the night was OMG the half-marathon is soon! Next I was trying to calculate weeks in my head as I “slept”.

This morning, I went for a run. Strava told me I ran 10.96 km. But, if I map it out on the trusty old GMAPs Pedometer, it’s around 9.5 km. It was a good run.

When I got back from my run, I looked at the calendar. 6 weeks until May 1st. Not 12 weeks, which is what I am used to, for a gradual and responsible training half-marathon program. Usually the goal is not to increase distance more than 10% a week. This is to try to prevent injuries.

I have other tools in my chest for minimizing injury. Strength training. Stretching (not as much as I should be doing, ever). Some yoga. Long spins on my stationary bike when the sidewalks have been too icy to run.

Here I am. Part of me is happy that MAY is so close. The other part of me is uncertain about training faster than usual.

I read this article today. Will it help my normally risk-adverse self just go for it and not worry about the outcome? The article talks about the Polish phrase,

‘Jakoś to będzie’ (pronounced ‘Ya-kosh toe ben-jay’)

Literally, the phrase means ‘things will work out in the end’ – but it’s so much more than that. Rather than sitting around and hoping things will work out by themselves, ‘Jakoś to będzie’ is acting without worrying about the consequences. It’s reaching for the impossible. It’s taking risks, and not being afraid.

Training for a half marathon, for me, is not really taking risks. It’s very possible. I’ve done this many times before. Just more measured. Not after a couple years of pandemic, when there haven’t been any regular running events. Not after February and early March, where I haven’t been going for long runs because WINTER. What I did today was my max distance for a long time. My brain can be overly cautious though. I may use this phrase as motivation to quiet that part of my brain.

I have been able to keep my fitness up throughout the pandemic. I am aware of my privilege to have the time, health, ability, etc., to do so. Because I have kept up my fitness, this is doable. I can do it (barring injury or other unforeseen obstacles).

While I’m running, I also think about things such as letting myself settle into the discomfort of the parts that feel sticky and challenging. Running is good for my brain because I am impatient. It forces me to tap into my ability to BE PATIENT. The end of the run is coming but it’s not now. I will need this patience when ramping up my distance in the coming weeks.

My current plan, entered into my calendar, is to increase my long run by 2km each Sunday. Also, to get out at least 2x week for shorter runs. Right now, I’ve only been doing one long run (usually Sunday) and a shorter run. I know from experience, I do not need to reach 21.1km before the race. I can get to 18 or 19km and the adrenaline on the day will get me through the rest. Also, I am an endurance runner. I don’t run for speed. So, whatever the time is, will be good.

In addition to my running plan, I plan on hitting up one of the health professionals I know for some extra mobility exercises to do during the 6 weeks to help with injury-prevention. I tend to get stiff in the glutes and hips in the longer distances. I will ask for work to prevent that.

Here I go with my 6-week half-marathon training. Wish me luck!

Readers, have you ever trained for a fitness event in less time than desirable? How did it go? What did you learn?

Nicole P. is prepping for a half-marathon taking place on May 1st.

As a side note, I do not usually raise money when I run marathons. However, I have decided this time, I will be raising money for the Odette Cancer Centre at Sunnybrook Hospital. My Mom has been/and will be getting care from them for her non-small cell lung cancer. Thankfully, she is currently symptom-free and it is slow growing, but this cause is near and dear to my heart. Raising money for the Odette Cancer Centre will help her and many others with their journey with cancer: http://support.sunnybrook.ca/SupportCancerResearch.

college sports · fitness

NCAA women’s basketball tournament one year later: any progress on equity?

In case you’ve forgotten, or don’t follow women’s basketball, or have just plain been busy, it’s NCAA tournament time. Last year, we were all treated to a low-fi/high-impact Tiktok video by Oregon’s Sedona Prince about the sad state of facilities for the women’s tournament players, as opposed to those for the men. I blogged about it here:

A small victory in a large battle: NCAA women’s basketball weight room gets a tiny bit bigger

And you can view Tiktok heard round the sports world here:

After a fair amount of hemming and hawing, obfuscation, and a 114-page report by law firm Kaplan, Hecker and Fink on gender inequity in the NCAA, Phase 1: Basketball Championships (I’m so happy this report is just the first phase…) the NCAA has made a few changes to the women’s tournament for this year (I got this info courtesy of a New York Times article ):

  • the women’s tournament has been expanded from 64 to 68 teams (the number the men reached in 2011)
  • the women’s tourney will be branded, like the men’s tournament, with the moniker March Madness, a move the N.C.A.A. had previously resisted
  • the men and women players will receive the same/equivalent swag bags
  • the mobile apps for the respective tournaments will be more compatible
  • the N.C.A.A. men’s basketball and women’s basketball staffs are now each 10 members; previously, they were 11 for the men, seven for the women
  • a gap in spending between the tournaments, which Kaplan’s report said was $35 million last year, will be narrowed by millions (although Dan Gavitt, a senior VP for basketball, wouldn’t say by how much)

Does that solve the problem of inequity in college basketball? No.

Once you look beyond the details of the tournaments and dig into the financial incentives, payouts and media relationships, you’ll see that women’s basketball has been underfunded in a system that rewards men’s basketball and snubs women’s basketball. Here’s what U. of South Carolina’s women’s basketball coach Dawn Staley had to say:

Dawn Staley, the coach of top-ranked South Carolina, said real change would not occur until the N.C.A.A. changed its revenue distribution model for the men’s tournament, which incentivizes investment in men’s basketball at the expense of the women’s game. The N.C.A.A. last year distributed $168 million to Division I conferences based on a formula that measures men’s tournament success over the previous six years.

The Kaplan report suggested that those funds should be distributed 50-50 based on how well each conference’s men’s and women’s basketball teams performed, though it should be phased in gradually (5 percent per year for 10 years) so as to limit disruptions to current athletic department budgets.

This would incentivize schools (and conferences) to invest in women’s basketball just as the current model has encouraged them to invest in men’s basketball since the 1980s.

“It took a lot of work to keep us where we were,” Staley said of a college sports system that is weighted toward men’s sports. “I don’t get it. We all got that much testosterone? Isn’t our money green?”

I love Dawn Staley. She’s a WNBA veteran, four-time Olympic gold medalist (3 as player, one as head coach) inductee in the Basketball Hall of Fame, and an expert on the politics and economics of promoting gender equity in basketball. She also coaches women’s basketball for my undergraduate alma mater, which makes me a little partial, too.

I also love Sedona Prince, and am very happy that this teenager had the gumption to out the NCAA using just her phone and her wry sense of humor. When UCLA Coach Cori Close was asked if the 114-page Kaplan report would’ve happened without Sedona’s video, she said, “the short answer is no.”

Well okay, then. Many thanks, Sedona Prince. Many thanks, Dawn Staley. Many thanks to all those coaches and players and allies and fans and families and others who work every day to promote gender equity in sports.

And if I may: Go, U. of S.C. women’s basketball team! Good luck in the NCAA tournament!

body image · feminism · fitness · motivation

Christine won’t be crushing anything today, thankyouverymuch.

The vocabulary of fitness is wearing me out.

I was already bored to tears with all the phrasing around burning fat/calories, trimming inches, and sculpting parts of our bodies. That stuff is so common that aside from the occasional eyeroll, I usually just skim over it when I see/hear it. I hate it but…meh.

However, as I have been seeking out more challenging videos lately I have been, to use the local vernacular, absolutely drove by the vocab that is supposed to motivate me.

I don’t want to ‘crush’ anything. Nor am I interested in a video that has the word ‘attack’ in the title. I don’t want to ‘destroy’ my abs or my glutes or my biceps. I don’t want to leave any of my muscles ‘screaming.’*

And despite being a martial artist who loves to practice punching and kicking, it bugs me that a lot of videos that incorporate those movements are called ‘body combat.’**

When I read titles with those words in them or when I hear the instructor use them during a workout, I don’t feel charged up and motivated, I feel tired.

And, shockingly, that is NOT what I am looking for when I’m exercising.

I want to be encouraged to work hard. I want to be told that I can do it. I want to be guided to forge ahead, to persist. I don’t want to feel like my exercise is supposed to be painful or punishing.

I thought we had left the whole ‘No Pain, No Gain’ thing behind but all of this language of destruction makes me feel like that attitude has snuck back into the party wearing different clothes and is waiting to see if we catch on.

And, as Tracy noted when I mentioned my irritation with these words, it’s frustrating and sad that we are all assumed to be in battle with our bodies all the time.

I am not fighting against my body in the quest to increase my fitness level.

My body and brain are working TOGETHER to move toward increased mobility and strength and a feeling of wellbeing. Any video titles or peppy encouragements that invite me to pit my brain against my body end up sapping my energy and leaving me feeling defeated.

I know that, culturally, many people’s bodies are seen as problematic and unruly – always being relentlessly human instead of a perfectly managed creation. This vocabulary thing ties into that, of course – an unruly body must be managed and defeated so it will look and behave in acceptable ways.

And I also know that the phrasing I am describing will seem like no big deal to some. In fact, I’m sure lots of people would tell me to just ignore it’ but I can’t do that.

I’m a writer and storyteller and I spend a long time making sure that the words I choose serve the purpose I want them to serves.

Words matter. Words have power. Words carry messages above and beyond their direct meaning.

And these destruction-themed words can drag all kinds of social expectations into my exercise time. My workouts are hard enough without also lifting cultural baggage at the same time.

How do you feel about these words? Do you find them motivating? Frustrating? Or do you not even notice them?

*If those words help you to power up, please feel free to completely ignore this post. I’m talking about my feelings and frustrations. not laying down a law about what can and cannot be said in a workout.

**The combat part I totally get but calling it body combat really makes it sound like you are fighting your own body. Ick.

fitness · tennis

Do Venus and Serena Williams compete against the men? Yes they do!

In case you’ve been on a social media hiatus, 1) congratulations; and 2) among the things you missed was director Jane Campion accepting a Critics Choice Award for Best Director, giving a speech that included the following:

“Venus and Serena– you’re marvels but you don’t have to compete against the men like I do.”

Yes, she was referring to Venus and Serena Williams, tennis legends. Venus’ non-reaction reaction was clear:

Venus and Serena were at the awards ceremony as executive producers of “King Richard”, a film about them and their father. It was nominated in four categories and won the best actor award for Will Smith.

Jane Campion’s comments were awful and racist. They were wrong, dead wrong. Yes, she later apologized (here’s a CNN article about the apology). Campioin pointed out that both Venus and Serena have faced off against men on the court and opened doors for women, etc.

But hey, that doesn’t even begin to cover the degree to which the Williams sisters have competed against men. Their entire lives they’ve had to compete against boys and men:

Apropos of the last item: Serena has 23 Grand Slam wins, #2 behind Margaret Court. Both of these women have won more Grand Slam singles matches than any male tennis player. While we’re at it, so has Steffi Graf, with 22 wins. Male tennis player Rafael Nadal is number 4 (behind Steffi), with 21 wins. In 2021, Venus had the all-time record for number of Grand Slam tournament matches played, at 90. And she’s won seven Grand Slam titles. And yet: even the Wikipedia page for Grand Slam wins lists the men’s singles wins first. Look here:

Yes, it's small print, but you can clearly make out Men's Singles above Women's Singles. Accidental? I think not.
Yes, it’s small print, but you can clearly see Men’s Singles above Women’s Singles. Accidental? I think not.

Any woman who’s played a competitive sport, or knows a woman who has, knows how we have to compete with men:

  • for time
  • for space
  • for training and coaching
  • for acceptance as athletes
  • for programs
  • for money and recognition

And we have to fight for access, safe conditions for activity, bodily autonomy, the right to choose sportswear that fits and covers us, an occasional break from all the domestic and emotional labor we perform at no cost to others… I could go on.

Yes, folks, Venus and Serena are marvels. They are marvels at competing successfully in the world with men, with racism, with sexism, with all sorts of barriers that ordinary and extraordinary women athletes face every day. Thank you, Williams sisters. Thank you so much.

accessibility · fitness · inclusiveness

Moving back into the world but who are we leaving behind?

Today I posted on Twitter.

https://twitter.com/SamJaneB/status/1503064734698024964

And then Pandemic Dark Dance posted to Facebook, “Tomorrow Night… Hopefully the last online Pandemidarkdance for a long while. I fully expect all 600-some members to login for it. We can’t take 600 requests, but we can take a few. You got any? Next Thursday (17th) we’ll be back in the Owls club, like olden times… Like nothing had ever happened… save for the vax check, tea-light squares, and the entry and exit wearing of masks…”

So we’re moving our fitness lives back into the world and the online options are closing down. Mostly (see above) I’m thrilled about that. I’m back at the gym I’m doing in person yoga again.

But who is being left behind?

I’m struggling with this in the university context too, trying to balance accessibility concerns, with wanting to be back on campus for in person learning.

It’s not just about being high risk for covid, or having perfectly reasonable concerns about social gathering when the pandemic isn’t over. There are also disability access needs that have been met during the pandemic. In addition, there’s the rural/small town/big city divide. I remember, in the early days of social media, when online friends in big cities would talk about getting off LiveJournal or Friendster or Facebook in favour of in person friends in the real world. I’d point out that their real world looked different than mine. I didn’t have the same access to in person events that they did.

So too with Dark Dancing.

What is Dark Dancing anyway?

Elan blogged about it here.

From the No Lights, No Lycra page:

“WE DANCE IN THE DARK IN MORE THAN 75 LOCATIONS AROUND THE WORLD AND WE’VE BEEN DOING IT SINCE 2009! We turn off the lights and crank up the tunes to release our inhibitions, move our moods and work up a wild sweat – all completely sober. We are mums, dads, students, lawyers and baristas, from 12 to 100 years old. We all have one thing in common; in the dark we come alive, shake the blues away and get lost in the music….We grew from a small gathering in Melbourne into a global community, simply because joy is contagious, and people love to dance. Lights Out, Let’s Dance – there’s room for you on our dance floor. 

When the pandemic hit, dark dancing took off in peoples’ homes. If you use Spotify there are more than 300 No Lights No Lyrca playlists. I can’t dance due to my knees but these playlists have saved my life on the bike these past two years.

So as Dancing in the Dark returns to clubs, that’s great I guess. But what about those of us who don’t live in Toronto, New York, or London or who are choosing to stay out night clubs until the pandemic is gone for good? Or what about those people who dance in bed, or in their wheelchairs, for whom the night club, even sober, might never have been a real option?

I was happy to see that some dark dancing groups are running hybrid dance parties, in the club in whatever city they are in and on Zoom and or YouTube as well.

And I’ll be curious to see where we land in terms of hybrid forms of participation.

How is this working out in your online fitness world? Are you losing online fitness options? What do you think we ought to do to keep online and in person fitness communities going? How is hybrid working out, if your communities are going that route?

fitness · sleep

Why middle of the night Wordle?

Like the rest of the English speaking world, I’ve been Wordling. And I gather, though it started in English, it’s spread to other languages. I have friends who do the French version, as well as Canuckle, the version with Canadian themed words.

Most days I do Wordle and then Wordle2. I’ve resisted the lure of non word based variants such as Worldle, Nerdle, Heardle, etc. And I don’t do the multiple versions like Dordle or Quordle.

Like many people I share my results on social media, since sharing is part of what the game is all about. The ubiquitous squares offer a glimpse into the way others play the game. That’s a big part of the appeal.

In my case though it’s also alerted friends to the fact that I’m up in the middle of the night. Why? What wakes me? I mean, aside from the state of the world. Mostly though the state of world keeps me up but it doesn’t wake me up.

What wakes me a few times each night is stabbing pain in both knees. I suffer from severe osteoartitis in both knees and the worst pain I experience is in the middle of the night. And then given the state of the world, it can be hard to go back to sleep when there’s war and a global pandemic to worry about.

“Osteoarthritis pain may feel like stiffness, aching, swelling, or throbbing. These symptoms may seem more pronounced at night since osteoarthritis pains can flare during periods of rest.” That’s from What You Need to Know About Throbbing Knee Pain at Night.

I’ve read lots about why the pain is so intense at night but I don’t find the answers satisfying. People say it’s worse because there’s nothing else going on and you notice more. Also, inflammation is worse at night because there is less cortisol. “When you sleep, your body produces less cortisol. While high cortisol levels can lead to heart disease, healthier levels can help your body reduce inflammation.”

Finally, in a really annoying kicker–lack of sleep makes knee pain worse.

There a lot of stories and studies about the connection between disrupted sleep and knee osteoarthritis. See here and here and here.

Apparently it’s a vicious cycle where not getting enough sleep makes your experience of pain worse and then the pain disrupts your sleep. The lack of sleep can also disrupt your ability to get movement in your day and that too makes knee pain worse.

On the knee pain front, I try to remember to take ibuprofen before bed. I arrange pillows in just the right way to hold my knees in the right place.

But back to where this began, Wordle. For getting back to sleep once I’ve been woken up, there are limited options. I need distraction but not doom scrolling options. Enter Wordle. It’s a five minute exercise. I can focus on it. And when I’m done I post my score and go back to sleep.

If you’ve struggled with knee pain at night and you have suggestions, other than Wordle and its many variants, let me know.

fitness · season transitions

The time, it is a-changing

Daylight Saving Time (I just now saw online that it’s not “savings”) just began at 2am today. This means that almost all of us in the US and Canada (Arizona, Yukon, Hawaii, most of Saskatchewan, and a few other places excepted) lost one hour of sleep last night. Even though it’s only one hour, it can make us feel grumpy and off-kilter for a while.

There’s loads of advice on dealing with the time change. This article in The Conversation offers us 11 pieces of advice about dealing with the time change. Roughly, they are as follows:

  • go back in time to make sure you’re well-rested in the past (thanks…)
  • go back in time to adjust your sleep schedule incrementally– like 15 minutes earlier for 4 days (has anyone actually ever done this? I doubt it)
  • Use light first thing in the morning to help wake you up (as if you didn’t do this before)
  • stay away from screens at night (yeah yeah…)
  • adjust curtaining (thickness, opening and closing) to create light conditions at the right time (did we need to hear this again?)
  • exercise in the morning (I’m guessing it’s another get-some-light thing, but may be there just on principle)
  • have a protein-heavy breakfast if you’re sleep deprived, to avoid eating sugars and carbs (this seems irrelevant to the sleep thing; they’re doing a little food policing while they’ve got your attention. Hmphf.)
  • don’t have caffeine after noon (my reaction is either “duh” or “back off from my caffeine habit”)
  • avoid alcohol at bedtime (please insert same reaction as above)
  • be patient with your kids, as meltdowns, irritability and loss of attention are common reactions to loss of sleep (they should’ve added to be patient with grown-ups too, including self and others)

One thing they didn’t say was this: be really happy about the time change and feel free to celebrate!

Yes, of course– I fully agree. And yet. I’m so psyched that we get our evening light back! Here are some reasons I’m really happy about the time change:

  • More light for evening bike rides, walks, swimming, etc.
  • More light for my long commute home, meaning that I’ll feel less blurry
  • More light later in the day for more activity at home– chores, cooking, crafts– and less burrowing into the couch, binge-watching Top Chef (not that it’s a bad thing, but I’m ready for a change)
  • More evening time on my back porch for reading, chatting or eating with friends, etc.

There are two more things I really like about the time change, which I saved for last, as they are my favorites. First, having less light in the morning and more later in the day reflects my own personal rhythm– I get started later in the morning anyway, and prefer to have my daylight shifted more towards evening. And Second, the time change means that spring is coming and that summer is not far behind. I love me some summer, and will be celebrating the arrival of this year’s summer season with great joy.

Thanks, Raphael Biscaldi from Unsplash, for the beach ball floating on turquoise water image. Ahhh....
Thanks, Raphael Biscaldi from Unsplash, for the beach ball floating on turquoise water image. Ahhh….

So, readers, what are your views about the time change? Did my ode to springing forward help? Or just further irritate you? How about trying a protein-heavy breakfast– I heard they help… 🙂

climate change · covid19 · Fear · fitness

Oof… Things are Hard right now

I honestly didn’t know what other title to give this post, and I’m also not quite sure where it’s going (nowhere, is probably where).

Over here in Europe, we’ve got our eyes turned eastward in horror. We pack boxes of baby items, nappies, cereal, fruit purée pouches, and face masks, and send them off in a lorry in the hopes they will reach the desperate people who need them. We wonder whether we should start stocking up on non-perishable goods and have a survival backpack ready to go just in case. At work lunches, we talk about whether we should be ready to flee to a different country, and if so, which one (Canada comes up a lot). And we try to guess whether Putin will stop in Ukraine, and what will happen if a Russian soldier so much as puts one little toe over the border of a NATO country. We wonder if, in the face of a never-ending pandemic, global warming, and war just one country over, bringing a child into this world was really the right thing to do.

Thinking about fitness, or doing fitnessy things, doesn’t come easy these days. It feels shallow to care about whether I will achieve 222 in 2022 (probably not). I catch myself thinking, “what if war happens and we have to survive outside or flee on foot, and I’m as unfit as I am right now?” But at the same time, when I can get myself to move, it helps. It distracts me, it gets me out into the sunshine (finally, a hint of spring!), it gets me away from the onslaught of horrible news coming at us from all angles right now. An hour in the pool makes me feel invigorated. A short Yoga with Adriene session makes my body feel less stiff. And a long walk in the sun with friends makes me feel more optimistic.

And then our very own Sam shares an article on Facebook entitled “What to do when the World is ending”, and I realise that, as hard as it seems right now, and as much as I want to curl up in a dark corner, close my eyes and stick my fingers in my ears, I will continue trying to take agency and working to build a good life amidst all this chaos. Thanks for sharing that article, Sam, it was exactly what I needed the other day.

fitness

Ask Fieldpoppy: March edition (part 2)

(I initiated this “Dear Fieldpoppy” advice column a few months ago; today’s questions were so rich I did it in two parts; read part one here)

Dear Fieldpoppy: When I do any exercise at all, I sweat. Like everywhere. From my head, my knees… everywhere. As in my underwear are also soaking wet. I can deal with sweat stains under my arms, but not on my pants. Delicacy prevents me from being more explicit, but you get the idea. Any tips for managing this?

Signed, not the good kind of wet

Dear Wet,

About 20 (30! I typed 20 and then did the math! yikes I’m old) years ago, I lived in old victorian house that had great light but got really hot in the summer. One time, an IT guy came to help me with a computer problem, and he was literally dripping sweat onto my Mac Classic. I offered him a glass of water, and he declined, saying “I’m already sweating so much, I don’t want to add more liquid to my body.”

At the time, not being the know-it-all Fieldpoppy I am today, I didn’t say anything. But now I would say, “DUDE, water COOLS you. You’ll sweat LESS.”

But there are really two questions here: how do I sweat less? and what do I do with all this sweat I make doing this badass workout?

To regulate the sweating, start with hydration. Cool or iced water if that is a thing you like. Before, during and after. Lots of small sips.

Of course, your own personal body, your hormones, your metabolism — all of these things are huge factors in how much you sweat. Some of us light skinned folks get red in the face no matter what, and some of us in the vague zone of menopause have more complicated thermoregulation. I’m fully into menopause now, and I take hormones that have been super helpful generally — but even so, I still get sweaty, volcanic hot flashes occasionally, usually associated with hot soup, hot baths or warm yoga studios. I try to avoid all of those, and make promiscuous use of fans, both at my desk and while working out. I use a fan with my spin bike, and if I’m working out in a gym or yoga studio, I tend to pick the cooler ones. And of course, wicking clothes, layers, hats to protect from the sun.

But if the sweating is just a thing you are going to experience, and you want to minimize the impact, be super intentional about your clothes. I personally like the really light, thin leggings that have a slippery nude feel, like some of the lulu ones, preferably with a colourful pattern where sweat pools are not super vivid. I don’t typically wear underwear with my tights — way cooler — but if it’s important to you, try the leakproof underwear designed for periods (I like Knix, who even make leakproof thongs now, if that’s a thing you groove on) — they are terrific at absorbing all the fluids our bodies produce in all the things we love to do. Finally, I recently got a little sweat towel in a work swag bag (like this), and it works great to help sop things up. Sweat away! Be strong! Be human!

Oh — and wipe your equipment 😉

Dear Fieldpoppy,

A wonderful dad I know just asked what advice we would offer for him to share with his almost four-year-old daughter for International Women’s Day. What would your advice be?

Signed, Auntie

Dear Auntie,

Tell him to go to an indie bookstore (like my fave local Queen books) or a community library with his daughter, ask the lovely people who work there for advice, and then sit down in a pile of the amazing array of books for littles that have come out in the past five years. There is a flourishing abundance of books that give little ones all sorts of narratives about diversity, using your voice, imagination, caring for the world and each other, and what’s possible for all genders in a changing world. Two of my favourites I’ve recently gifted my five year old nephew with are You Might be Special and Julian is a Mermaid. Dwelling in many voices and different stories is the best way to start developing a narrative about what her place in the world could be.

Dear Fieldpoppy,

I moved to a rural place far away from my family to be with my boyfriend, who is a great human and we are really happy when he’s here. But he’s away for work for an extended period of time, and I am having a hard time getting into a meaningful routine by myself. E.g., we used to work out together every morning — without him here, I just stay in bed with coffee and play all the wordle games. (He’s also really bad at texting, but that’s not something I can do anything about). How do I get in more of a groove when I’m here alone? Signed, I wouldn’t live here on purpose

Dear Wordler,

That sounds really tough, especially at the end of two years of weird isolation. You’re not alone in this sense of aimless loneliness, I think! It sounds like your life in this space feels sort of temporary and floaty, so it’s not surprising that your routine has shifted without the framework of the other human in your space.

So first — as I recommended this morning — have a glass of water. And then survey what you really need and want. If it’s just some sort of shape, timers and making dates with people to work out via zoom or whatever can help. But I wonder if, now that we’re emerging from lockdown and spring is somewhere out there, the best thing to do might be to reach into the community. You might be able to find yourself a local group of people doing something active that you could enjoy just for the shape and novelty it gives your week — even if they are not really Your People. About 15 years ago, I was dating someone who lived in a whole other country, and I spent time there for weeks at a time while I was working on my PhD. I joined up with a women’s recreational running group (they called themselves the Slug Goddesses) and suddenly, I felt like I belonged in the community. They didn’t become my best friends, and I actually only ran with them about 10 times — but they eased the sense that I was just floating along. I’m still pals with them on the socials, and one of them ran for State Senator recently!

It doesn’t have to be fitness related — join a trivia league, or volunteer somewhere. A little corner of this place — even if it’s temporary — can help anchor you.

Also, get a cat.

Dear Fieldpoppy,

I’m so used to leggings 24/7 I’m forgetting to unfasten my slacks & jeans when going to the bathroom. 👖

What can I do?

Signed, Button Buster.

Dear Buttons,

I’m glad to see you’re staying hydrated! But the leakproof underwear I linked in the first answer might come in handy for you too.

Fieldpoppy is Cate Creede (she/they), who lives and works on the land now known as Toronto, which is the traditional territory of many nations including the Mississaugas of the Credit, the Anishnabeg, the Chippewa, the Haudenosaunee and the Wendat peoples, and is covered by Treaty 13, signed with the Mississaugas of the Credit. Cate is a coach, consultant and general thinker about relationships and meaning making. You can read earlier versions of the Ask Fieldpoppy column here, here and here.