Honestly, I’m not sure I want to. When posts from that period come up in my memories, I’m sometimes feel baffled about what they’re about. Later there were shared recipes (in my circle Black Pepper Tofu) and shared solutions to problems (headbands for those us with shaggy unkept hair) but at the start, it was all shut downs.
Here’s Catherine’s post on her last in yoga studio class.
And my post about Yoga with Adriene at home with dogs. I love my optimism, “Since I’ve decided to stay clear of the gym and the yoga studio in these times of the novel coronavirus, I’m going to be doing more yoga at home with Cheddar in weeks and maybe months to come. Wish us luck!”
“When you search YouTube for yoga nidra videos, you’re confronted with literally hundreds of search results. Most feature soothing or hushed voices. Some lull you with an array of sounds in the background. Most are intended to downregulate your vibe while some are designed specifically to induce sleep.
Almost all of these yoga nidra YouTube videos share textbook yoga nidra: They encourage you to find a comfortable lying position, similar to Savasana, listen as someone’s voice coaxes your awareness to your physical body, and let yourself be drawn into a somewhat altered state of consciousness.
Yet there’s only one of these yoga nidra YouTube videos that has been listened to more than 12 million times, at last count. Its title, quite simply, is “Yoga Nidra 20-Minute Guided Meditation,” and the video relies exclusively on the voice of a British yoga teacher set to a subtle backdrop of ambient music.”
“TOUGH BROAD is a deeply researched exploration into the science and psychology of the outdoors and our place in it as we age. Paul speaks with women around the country about their aging journeys and the activities that have changed their lives – including BASE jumping, wing-walking, flying, swimming, orienteering, walking, scuba diving, boogie boarding and BMX riding – and examines the different ways that activity and the outdoors can help you age better and make you happier as well as improve your spirit, mind, body, and heart. Main themes of the book include:
· the five pillars for fulfilling aging (community, health, novelty/challenge, purpose and a strong positive mindset about aging itself)
· going outside is the most complete way to bring all four pillars of fulfilling aging into your life as a man or a woman
· going outside and adventuring is a direct rebuke to beliefs – society’s and our own – that women become less competent physically and less interesting overall as we age, and when we upend that we begin to reimagine other parts of ourselves
· why adventuring outside as we age is especially important for women
· the importance of a positive mindset as we age/combating the negative messaging around aging
· getting outside can mean walking in parks, or it can mean learning to swim, or it can mean mountain biking and scuba diving
· the medicinal benefits of nature and of finding awe in our surroundings
· the biggest misconception is that it’s dangerous for women to engage at a later age in the uncertainty and physical risk of an adventure. Nothing could be further from the truth”
“Girls Run Ultras is a 15-minute film that follows the journey of an all-women’s running collective, Girls Run NYC, as they push their limits individually and collectively through the challenges of the 2022 Black Canyon Ultras 60K. It’s an intimate look into a group’s unwavering determination and camaraderie as they conquer the trails together.
The film is co-directed by Ellie Windham and Christine Rivera, and it’s recently been selected as one of eight films for the 2024 Trail Running Film Festival, which starts this week and will tour to more than 50 locations worldwide.”
My work has been quite challenging lately. I have been an adrenaline junkie for years and usually just power through the difficult times, refusing to acknowledge even to myself that maybe this isn’t healthy.
I have known since forever that I hold stress inside. I can remember my mom telling me as a young teen that I needed to learn to let my feelings out because I was like a pressure cooker; one day I was going to blow my lid and probably put a hole in the ceiling.
Me, as a teen. More accurately, the lid of a pot is embedded into a ceiling. Both the ceiling and walls are covered in food from the pot that exploded.
I never did blow, channeling that stress into my muscles instead. This has definitely not been healthy. There have been times when I have managed staying awake during long drives by doing frequent shoulder checks because my neck was so tight the pain revived me instantly. Do not recommend!
Last week, I had a massage so deep yet painful that it almost made me cry. Toward the end, suddenly felt a bit of a headache coming on.
I decided to try and explore that feeling, rather than clamping it down (thanks for your many posts on exploring our feelings, Christine). It was uncomfortable, but also weirdly pleasant.
That pleasant feeling lasted up until yesterday when things got wild at work again. My back and neck were in knots, I had a headache, and my jaw was sore from clenching at the end of the day. I made a conscious effort to accept that my body was telling me to pay attention, then had a good supper and did some physio exercises and yoga stretches to try and let them go.
Growing up in the era of second-wave feminism, it has been hard for me to show any sign of weakness (though I’m really good at being a fierce advocate for third and fourth wave feminist goals). My word of the year is explore. I think it’s high time I start exploring how to be a little gentler with myself.
A cup of tea surrounded by the feet of a person wearing cozy socks, candles, pillows, tiny lights, various other textured items, and a decoration with gold stars. It looks like a very good spot to relax.
As I am writing this on Monday morning, I had already spent about 20 minutes arguing with myself about whether it was safe to take Khalee for a walk today.
You see, last week, things were looking up snow-wise.
The sidewalks were clear.
I could the grass at the edges of my driveway.
My patio had only a few chunks of icy snow on it.
I was looking forward to walking in my sneakers for change.
I knew it wasn’t actually spring but I was hoping things would move in that direction, or that winter would pause for a while.
Readers, it did not.
Between Thursday night and Saturday morning we had around 75cm of snow.
It was not fun.
And I had taken Khalee for a walk on Thursday but it was too stormy on Friday to go out.
On Saturday and Sunday, the roads were only partially clear and there was heavy equipment here and there, and it felt too risky to have my poor pup and poor me try to navigate all of that.
Last night, I saw that a nearby sidewalk has been cleared so I decided that I would take Khalee out this morning no matter what.
But this morning is very windy and a bit rainy and part of my brain tried to put the brakes on.
It really did its best to keep me and Khalee inside, telling me that the wind would make it hard to walk (truth: it’s not *that* windy!) and that while that sidewalk might be clear the road to get there might be hazardous (truth: some parts of the roads are narrow and snow-filled, others are clear and it’s only three minutes from my front door) and…and…and…
However, I couldn’t keep Khalee from another day of sniffvestigations, that didn’t seem fair.
So I bundled up, got her into her hoodie (more for visibility than warmth!), and braved the walk.
Do I feel better for getting outside?
Well, I don’t feel any worse!
Do I feel better for getting Khalee outside?
Oh, definitely!
So at least there’s that.
Here are a few photos from our walk, feel free to gloat about your spring weather in the comments while I am being all self-congratulatory about getting out for a walk today.
PS – We are supposed to have a ridiculous amount of rain overnight. So by the time you read this, all of these streets will be likely filled with slushy water that’s trying to seek out a drain. Sigh.
A photo of my dog Khalee standing on clear pavement, she is facing a snowbank on the opposite side of the road. That snowbank is high enough to obscure a stop sign – there’s only a sliver of the top of the sign visible. Isn’t it weird that there is that much snow on the sides but the road is down to the pavement? Snow makes no sense!My dog, Khalee, in a green hoodie, standing on a snow-covered sidewalk next to a huge snowbank that has been sheared pretty smooth by a plow/snowblower. Not every snowbank is this high, this one is near a corner. Still sucks though.My dog, Khalee, in her green hoodie on her way back home. She’s standing on a snow-covered sidewalk next to a smaller snowbank that is only about 3ft high. The road, which is cleared to the pavement, can be seen on the right side of the photo.
“National Napping Day was created in 1999 by a Boston University professor and his wife. William Anthony Ph.D. and his wife Camille Anthony created this holiday to spread awareness on the importance of getting enough sleep and its benefits. The holiday was meant to help make up for the amount of sleep lost when the hour changes. The date was chosen because studies have shown that people are already at their most tired and sleep deprived after daylight savings changes. The change of the hour really makes a difference, but National Napping Day can make you feel like there was no change at all.” See more here.
I’m officially a fan of napping and I’ve written about it lots here on the blog.
These days I sometimes sneak a nap in my Philosophy office at work where I have a pillow, a yoga mat, and an alpaca poncho/blanket. (Thanks Rob!) It’s not a regular thing but when I have evening events on campus and I’ve had a tough workday, I sometimes nap after the work day before the evening events get under way.
Here are some of the Fit is a Feminist Issue bloggers’ past odes to napping:
While we were on the blog were very happy to see this news, it also started a conversation about athletic women and long hair. Surely short hair would be easier and more convenient. Why do so many women pro-athletes have ponytails?
It’s either long hair you can pull back in a ponytail or short hair, it seems. Those are both practical choices.
But hey, given that many of them do have long hair, let’s design uniforms that make the names of women athletes visible. Thanks Molson.
Today is the second day of Daylight Saving Time in most of North America, and I tell you, people are grumbling. Springing forward doesn’t result in many of us feeling springy right away. Shifting an hour ahead feels like spring sleep robbery. These memes heartily agree:
I couldn’t express it better myself. We certainly need more coffee to talk about Daylight Saving Time.This cat feels betrayed.
Despite the shock and dismay of early mornings seeming that much earlier, I really like Daylight Saving Time. It means more time in the evening for cycling, walking, swimming, dining on my back porch, and all sorts of lovely leisure-time activities done more easily with extra light. Samantha posted about the advantages for cyclists here: Daylight savings and cyclists: Yippee, yahoo, and whee!
But, what does science have to say about Daylight Saving Time (DST)? Are there health benefits to shifting daylight to later? Do people get more exercise? Better sleep? Good questions. Let’s see what I can find in the way of answers.
Some studies (like this one, done in Western Australia) suggest that the main change brought about by DST is a shift in the timing of physical activity, not necessarily an increase overall during the period. Half of the Australia study group shifted their exercise times from early morning to afternoon/evening times. Interestingly, the number of reported exercise sessions dropped (26% reported fewer sessions), but the researchers didn’t track how long the sessions lasted, either in pre-DST or during DST.
In a large multi-country study, scientists found a small (5%) increase in physical activity among European and Australian children during DST. Here’s what they said in support of DST:
Although the average increase in activity is small in absolute terms, these increases apply across all children in a population. Moreover, these small effect sizes actually compare relatively favourably with the typical effect of intensive, individual-level interventions. We therefore conclude that, by shifting the physical activity mean of the entire population, the introduction of additional daylight saving measures could yield worthwhile public health benefits.
Okay, that sounds kind of promising. And it makes sense to me– I loved being outside after supper when I was a kid, playing with my friends until darkness fell after 8pm and it was time to brush teeth, put on pajamas, read a story and go to bed. The same feeling holds true for me now, word for word.
But, I’m compelled to report that we’ve gotten only half the story here on the relative merits and drawbacks of DST. Several studies suggest that the sleep interruption caused by the one-hour shift result in a bunch of negative health effects in the population. The American Academy of Sleep Medicine published a position statement in which they advocate for a permanent standard time system (falling back and staying back).
…the acute transition from standard time to daylight saving time incurs significant public health and safety risks, including increased risk of adverse cardiovascular events, mood disorders, and motor vehicle crashes. Although chronic effects of remaining in daylight saving time year-round have not been well studied, daylight saving time is less aligned with human circadian biology-which, due to the impacts of the delayed natural light/dark cycle on human activity, could result in circadian misalignment, which has been associated in some studies with increased cardiovascular disease risk, metabolic syndrome and other health risks.
Okay, so DST is arguably less aligned with human circadian rhythms. But so is modern life under capitalism and on the internet. Am I right? AM I RIGHT?! AM? I? RIGHT?
Please stand by
Okay, I’ve pulled myself back together. Now, where was I? Oh, yes– the majority of the reports published by medical and public health associations recommend not springing forward and falling back, for health reasons. They suggest we (meaning our governments) pick one standard time, in particular one that best conforms to standard time.
Of course this makes a lot of sense; switching between times wreaks at least local havoc on our productivity and may have long-term effects on health. In order to be more confident of this claim, though, we’d need more evidence.
So, if you ask me what I think, here’s a thought: I always think of the spring forward/fall back time shifts as harbingers of shifts in my behaviors. I become more of an active and social and outside person come DST. I may not do as many so-called exercise sessions, but I am skipping and dipping and strolling and weeding and doing all sorts of things to celebrate the change of solar season. When it’s time to switch back in the fall, that means more indoors-focused and structured activity, which can be satisfying, too. Or, in short:
Kitty wants us all to just get along.
So readers, are you a DST proponent or opponent? What was your favorite after-dinner activity outside as a kid? Lemme know.
As much as I appreciated Tracy’s post on her year of no shopping, and I’m personally a lot more thoughtful about shopping since my own year of no shopping, there are still fun purchases that lure me in.
For me, of course, it’s all bike related.
When this Facebook reel appeared, I had to go check out the disco ball helmet. Luckily, phew, it was sold out. Also, it was ridiculously expensive. So it wasn’t going to happen on two counts. But it was fun to think about.
“All style. No sweat. Our Disco Ball Helmet is a contemporary interpretation of vintage style updated for the sensation seeking modern wearer. Happy days are here again. The time is right for making friends. Let’s get together, how about a quarter to ten? Come tomorrow, let’s all do it again. Must put an end to this stress and strife. I think I want to live the sporting life.”
How about listening to the music of Canadian feminist composer Ann Southam? You can read about her here.
Pond Life
I just learned about Southam today at an international women’s day lecture hosted by the Sexuality and Gender Studies program at the University of Guelph.
READ
I’ve just bought The Power of Fun: How to Feel Alive Again.
From the book, “Judgment is also a fun killer. In order to judge something, we have to step out of an experience so that we can evaluate it, and (as we just noted) when we are out of our present experience, we are obviously not in flow. Even everyday forms of evaluation, such as “liking” things on social media or editing the selfie we just took, count as judgment and encourage self-consciousness—another fun killer—and therefore will destroy that moment’s capacity to be fun. Comparing ourselves to other people is also a form of judgment and is toxic to fun—as the saying goes, “Comparison is the thief of joy.””
It’s blustery. It’s cold. There’s a struggle to zip up playground-stained mittens over synthetic down jacket sleeves. Our daughter, 5, accepts the lovingly crocheted scarf that I’ve wrapped around her neck. I look at her, satisfied with her bundled body, and proudly watch as she sets off, walking up the hill towards her school with her dad. She will be protected and warm, I think to myself. My pride sinks slightly as I watch her grab the scarf and tuck it under her chin, exposing her sweet cheeks to the frosty air.
It’s bright. It’s warm. The sun streams through the window, highlighting the living room furniture. My family bounds with natural energy. Our daughter, 6, comes down the stairs arrayed in patterns. Floral pants, a graphic t-shirt, and a speckled sweater clash in a medley of colours and fabrics. Confidence beams through her eyes, and I smile affectionately when she caps off her outfit by stretching mismatched Monsters Inc. socks over her pant cuffs. She insists that she won’t need a jacket, but I make her bring one in her backpack just in case— after all, Alberta is known for its unpredictable climate.
It’s sopping. It’s wet. The rubber boots are too small. A self-proclaimed water-resistant pair of yellow combat boots is the only option. Our daughter, 7, zips them up and ties the aesthetic-only laces, excited to be wearing them. Internally, I worry that she’ll catch severe illness if her toes get wet and remain so for the duration of the school day. I throw an extra pair of socks in her backpack. She hears my instruction to put them on if her socks get wet. I’m sure she forgets her affirmation upon reaching the sidewalk.
A rainy walk to school.
A man and his young daughter walk up a rain-soaked sidewalk. The man is wearing all black and looking down affectionately at his daughter. The daughter is holding a speckled umbrella above her head.
When we bought our house at the bottom of the hill, one of the highlights was its proximity to the local elementary school. From the date of purchase, I envisioned uphill walks filled with dreams for the day ahead and downhill returns replete with tales of recess and the classroom.
We are three years into my daughter’s elementary years, and our reality is not far-off from these visions. For the most part, my husband walks our daughter up to the school before walking to work, and I get the privilege of walking her home.
Our walks are filled with learned moments for all of us. The trudge up the hill has been enlightening as we speak the wisdom of physical exercise and mental perseverance to our tired children. Admittedly, walking up a snowy hill in snow pants and boots really descries the concept of “an uphill battle.” Although she sometimes complains about the walk, I am thankful she gets to learn these difficult lessons gently. Walks down the hill are my time to learn as I listen to what fun and affliction look like to her generation.
When I pick her up on the snowy days, she is dressed in much less fabric than when I sent her out the door. Her mittens are lodged in her backpack, buried by her scarf and often her snow pants. Minus 20 degrees Celsius hits kids differently than it does us adults. On our walk home, if I suggest she put on her winter accessories on our walk home, she will insist that she’s “boiling.”
On warmer days, I watch her burst out of the school doors, beaming like the rays of the sun. Often, she is just in a t-shirt, even if the temperature would support wearing a sweater. If she does exit the school in a sweater, it is bound to end up draped on my arm on our walk down the hill.
When an umbrella is warranted, I arrive at the school to find her splashing in the puddles and her backpack sitting in one. Are her socks wet? Yes. Have they been wet all day? “Mostly,” she responds humorously and then continues to skip joyfully down the soggy sidewalk.
Our family candidly enjoying a walk by our local river.
A family of four way away from the camera. From the left there is a man, a young girl, a younger boy, and a woman. All face away except for the young girl who is looking delightfully at her younger brother. It is a beautiful day with a blue sky and green grass.
It is not lost on me how fortunate I am to work from home and spend these precious moments with my daughter (and son, since he’s three years younger and often in tow). I have had the privilege of watching her grow from running ecstatically to me at pick-up to dropping her backpack at my feet and racing off to join her friends in the schoolyard. She tucks her socks under her pant cuffs now, and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t mourn it a bit. I take solace in that she still often chooses unconventional outfit pairings. I am safe from the loss of this innocence for a while.
Each year, her personality changes like the weather. There is no predicting who she will be as time meanders on. What I do know is that I’ll be proudly watching as she grows and adapts to what each season brings. Of course, I’ll have many suggestions for her, but I know she’ll find her own path. All I can hope is that she welcomes me and her dad on the walks with her up and down the hill for many more years. And with each passing season, I will hold close to my heart the memories of releasing her in the mornings and excitedly reuniting in the afternoons. Each walk will be a walk to remember.
Stephanie Morris is a transcriptionist and writer based in Alberta, Canada. She is a wife, a mom of two, and a newcomer to the career-writing world. As a fancier of history and literature, she aspires to blend the two in fiction and nonfiction pieces. To follow Stephanie’s writing adventures, find her at @words.and.smores on Instagram.
