As the year comes to a close I’ve been thinking a lot about the fitness goals I set at the beginning of the year. Spoiler alert: I didn’t complete most of them. I don’t even remember some of them. Of course I wrote them down back in January, and I will revisit them at some point to figure out which ones served me well and might be shifted into next year and which ones need to be modified or discarded.

Years ago I would write myself goals like “be healthy.” You can guess how well that went. What does that even mean?! More recently I write very specific goals such as “bike xx miles this year” and “keep up with doc appointments.” These types of goals are, for me, health related but they don’t really indicate how “healthy” I am at any given moment. So lately I’ve been pondering my BIG goal around movement.

My biggest reason for intentional movement (and for keeping up with my medical appointments) is to maintain function and strength. What does that mean for me?

– Walking two big dogs without letting them walk me.

– Carrying around large/weighty bags of dog food for aforementioned big dogs.

– Walking around travel destinations without soreness or fatigue.

– Trying to carry the groceries into the house in one trip (this never happens – too many bulky items).

– Avoiding the middle aged “how did I hurt my neck/back/knee while I was sleeping” problems.

– Keeping enough movement in my joints that they feel good (or manageable) without overdoing it.

– Remembering that movement is a tool (one of many) for managing stress and anxiety (ymmv).

In order to all these things I keep my movement geared toward functional fitness, a term my trainer introduced me to many years ago, and one I hear more and more often lately. But sometimes functional fitness can feel sort of boring – I prefer FUNctional fitness. How do I keep the FUN in functional fitness?

– Working with an excellent trainer who programs tough but realistic workouts, keeps a good playlist, and makes me laugh with inappropriate jokes when some of the moves look a little ridiculous.

– Being active in a fitness-related community of supportive folks with shared interests.

– Scheduling synchronous (remote) bike sessions with a friend and then texting throughout the ride for laughter and support.

– Avoiding all diet- and weight-related talk.

– Scheduling walking dates with friends when the weather cooperates.

– Enjoying the beautiful landscape in our community.

Thinking about the upcoming new year I know I wont be making any sort of “new year, new me” proclamations. But I will be celebrating a big/milestone birthday in 2024 and that’s got me thinking about where I could make improvements in my FUN and functional fitness behaviors. One area I know I could focus on is my grip strength, which will keep my hands resilient in the face of both a knitting hobby and angsty pickle jars.

Where are you putting your FUNctional focus in 2024?

Amy Smith is a professor of Media & Communication and a communication consultant who lives north of Boston. Her research interests include gender communication and community building. Amy spends her movement time riding the basement bicycle to nowhere, walking her two dogs, and waiting for it to get warm enough for outdoor swimming in New England.

Last fall I went on a solo retreat. I was at the tail end of a busy period at work and trying to carve out time to put the final touches on a years-long research project. I have a history of high writing productivity when traveling and/or staying at with friends, and I hoped that getting away for a few days would spark the same results. I’m not usually fussy when it comes to lodging, but after thinking through what I needed to be most productive I allowed myself some amenities: a full kitchen, a pretty view, and a soaker tub.

Before I left I also mapped out the closest walking trail and was happy to discover it was in the same area as my rental. As an over-planner I may have mapped out a few other trails as well. At the last minute, and on the threat of rain, I threw some resistance bands into my travel gear and called it good. I had a long list of goals for these 4 days away and I felt some guilt going into the trip. It was an investment in myself, my work, and my words that I am not used to making. I felt guilty for spending money on a rental and I felt guilty for not being able to “just do it” and finish the project with my normal day-to-day schedule. The part of my brain that loves to tell a good “imposter syndrome” story got a lot of mileage out of that guilt and I went into the weekend feeling anxious that I wouldn’t reach my (sort of unrealistic) goals.

The first afternoon I unpacked all of my work gear. Laptop, notecards, books, notebooks, pens. The resistance band landed right next to all of that on my workspace. And then I climbed into that big soaker tub and let the little hamster in my brain tire herself out on the thought-wheel. I quickly realized that what I needed was rest. Deep and true rest. Time away from the pressure and stress of the everyday to be still. I worked on believing that even if a single word didn’t get written the retreat would still be a “success.” It wasn’t easy, but I let that need for stillness be my guide.

I spent the rest of that time being gentle with myself. I napped. I soaked. I stretched. I did yoga. I watched some high-drama tv. I read (fiction and non-fiction). And I wrote. I did not walk. I barely made it further than the deck or driveway most days. I made time to catch up with a friend living overseas. I soaked more. I napped again. And I wrote.

Clearing up the clutter and removing the never-ending chores list of daily life gave me the space and the freedom to do what my body needed. Rest. Think. Create. Breathe. Any movement that happened was intentionally slow, focused on breath work and the mind-body connection. I wish I could say the words poured out of me, but that isn’t my typical experience with writing (though I remain hopeful!) I left with an almost complete document and a solid outline of the remainder, and being so close to finished made it easier to carve out the remaining time needed by the impending deadline.

More important than finishing that project (which was pretty darn important) was learning a little more about myself and what restores me. I went into that trip thinking it was a “one and done” experience, focused specifically on that task. Instead I left knowing it would be an experience I would repeat. I leave in a few days for this year’s retreat and I’ve already mapped out the nearest walking trails and packed up my creative/writing project. It isn’t as time-sensitive as the last one, but I hope it will be even more fulfilling.

Do you plan a solo getaway when you are able? What is your focus on those retreats? Any recommendations on great destinations?

Amy Smith is a professor of Media & Communication and a communication consultant who lives north of Boston. Her research interests include gender communication and community building. Amy spends her movement time riding the basement bicycle to nowhere, walking her two dogs, and waiting for it to get warm enough for outdoor swimming in New England.

Do you view Friday the 13^th as a day of doom and disaster? Or is lucky #13 more your speed? Maybe you want to try your luck at a personal best or podium win at one of the many Friday the 13^th races happening across the U.S.? A quick search told me about races happening in Texas, Minnesota, New Jersey, and Maryland.

This CNN article provides a fairly in-depth look at how we’ve come to view Friday the 13^th as unlucky. Personally, I’m team Lucky #13, and I’m not surprised to see the notation about the number 13 being tied to lunar or menstrual cycles (for many of us our menstrual cycles can feel unlucky or at least uncomfortable, but mostly they seem to raise speculation and fear in the hearts and minds of those who do not/have never menstruated).

Themed races are plentiful so it isn’t surprising to come across these Friday the 13^th races. They seem especially plentiful when the date falls on a weekend and in the month of Halloween. We’ve covered Halloween workouts (here and here) and movement/activity in costumes (here and here) on the blog before. As October advances there are trick-or-treat, costume, and Halloween races and events in many communities.

A few years ago I tackled one of these Halloween-themed races in Salem, MA called the Devil’s Chase, which is a 6.66 mile run (or walk in my case). The race’s tagline is “run like hell” and prizes are given to the 1^st place “devil” (a devil costume is mandatory). In recent years they’ve added a shorter 3.33 mile distance called the Creepy Clown. The race generates a lot of attention in an already busy city with a lot of Halloween tourism. People come from all over in their best clown, devil, and other costumes. The year I ran it I started the race with festive devil horns on my head but eventually handed them off to a bystander when they started to annoy me after a few miles. I can’t imagine running in a full-body costume like many of the racers do.

How about you? Have you done a Friday the 13^th race, ride or other event? Have you raced in costume for Halloween? Was it your lucky day… did you get a Trick or a Treat?

Amy Smith is a professor of Media & Communication and a communication consultant who lives north of Boston. Her research interests include gender communication and community building. Amy spends her movement time riding the basement bicycle to nowhere, walking her two dogs, and waiting for it to get warm enough for outdoor swimming in New England.

As a professor the start of a new year can sometimes feel like a brand new year. But for me it always feels a bit betwixt and between – my heart feels the hope and possibility springing forth in a new semester while my brain is singing “whoa, we’re halfway there… whoa, we’re living on a prayer…”  

The start of a new semester always brings up a feeling of reflection for me. I am thinking about previous semesters, wondering how our alums are doing out in the world, prepping courses and making changes to update the curriculum, etc. It’s also a good time to think about fitness for me.  

I typically prep my schedule for the first few weeks in advance, as much as is possible. I block out time for workouts, mental health breaks, and time with supportive friends and loved ones. And then week one hits and I have to remember the old saying “(wo)man plans, God(ess) laughs.” Week one hits and it feels like we are off to the races.

In my new-ish role as department chair I spent a lot of that first week getting other folks (students, faculty, etc) settled into the semester. There are also an incredible amount of meetings coming back into those first weeks, especially if you’re somewhere that faculty are “off contract” (aka not paid to work) over the summer.  

For me, the absolute best thing to do is to hold to my schedule and get some movement in to each day, whether it’s a walk around campus or a workout in my basement gym. It helps me feel grounded and keeps some of the “things still to do” doom-loop at a minimum.  

You know where this is going, right?! I have done almost no intentional movement since school started 10 days ago. I showed up for a scheduled workout with my trainer and I virtually “met” a friend for a spin class over the weekend. After each of these sessions I felt good. Strong. Clear-headed. I told myself that I wanted more of this feeling and I needed to protect more time to get movement into my day. And then I promptly laid down to take a nap.  

It is what it is, friends. Some days are hard. Some weeks (months and years too) are hard and we need to get through them however we can. I know that intentional movement will come back to me. When I look at bike mileage stats from previous years I often see a dip for Sept and a surge from October through the end of the year. I feel fine giving myself a little grace right now.  

As we discuss here all the time, fitness has many elements. Sometimes we prioritize rest to get the best improvement in our overall health, and sometimes we prioritize movement. My anecdotal data tells me that it is hard to prioritize both at the same time, but it is a goal I keep trying to meet.  

How is your September shaping up? Are you settling in to a new routine as fall approaches or is it same as always in your world?  

Amy Smith is a professor of Media & Communication and a communication consultant who lives north of Boston. Her research interests include gender communication and community building. Amy spends her movement time riding the basement bicycle to nowhere, walking her two dogs, and waiting for it to get warm enough for outdoor swimming in New England.

“I don’t feel sick but I don’t feel great. Something is wrong.”

That’s what I said to my partner a couple weeks ago. It had been a long week of high-stress situations. By the end of the week I was struggling to just stay afloat, and was facing another busy week ahead. Some old anxieties had kicked back up, stuff I normally didn’t give too much space. It felt like a storm was brewing in my body.

The next day I started with a sore throat, and the day after that I tested positive for covid. Finally the brick wall I had run into made some sense. Since the incubation range varies so widely I don’t know when I was exposed, but based on my mood and heightened sense of… I don’t even know what to call it… I feel like I could almost pinpoint it to the moment.

All is well now, and although I am still recuperating in some ways, I feel a million times better. The anxiety level has dropped significantly and due to some covid cancellations my schedule has loosened up. I was fortunate that my symptoms were mild and I could socialize and work remotely to help ease the loneliness of those isolation days.

What am I taking away from this experience? A few different things, but mostly that I know my body and how I typically feel. For a long time I have felt disconnected from my body. I’ve been told that I’m a “motor moron” (ie there’s a disconnect between my brain and my motor skills), that I’m clumsy or uncoordinated, etc. And I’ve been believing those things about myself. About my body, but also about the ways that those ideas limit what I can or should be doing. This isn’t to say I’m about to tackle some new crazy challenge I didn’t have faith I could complete before, but it is a good reminder to trust how I feel. Even when I don’t know the reason I feel a particular way, I can still give myself grace and ease as I work through those feelings or experiences.

“I don’t feel sick, but I don’t feel great.” How many times has a woman said that to her doctor? To her family? To anyone who would listen? And how many times have folks brushed aside her comment, saying she probably just needed to do XYZ thing (sleep, eat, lose weight, etc). A lot of us have been taught that our bodies are separate from our being. That our bodies are traitors who wont act how we want them to act as we age or experience other changes. I often hear friends say they “just don’t feel like themselves” after their bodies have changed, but they’re not able to quite pinpoint why that is. If our bodies are tired or sore we’re told to work through “the pain” but not to go so far as to ignore “real pain.” When did tiredness or soreness stop being real and instead become something to push through? If we’re disconnected from our bodies how can we determine what real pain feels like?

I’ll be continuing to grapple with some of these questions, but I will also come back to this post to remind myself that I am connected to my body. I can know and feel things without having the answers for why they are there. I can trust my body.

Amy Smith is a professor of Media & Communication and a communication consultant who lives north of Boston. Her research interests include gender communication and community building. Amy spends her movement time riding the basement bicycle to nowhere, walking her two dogs, and waiting for it to get warm enough for outdoor swimming in New England.

Spring has sprung in New England! Or at least some version of spring where we start to see flower buds and sunshine at regular intervals. Here in my little corner (near Boston, MA) we did not see much snow this winter. That is not true for all of my neighbors, but my coastal city doesn’t follow any weather rules, thanks to the ocean just doing what it wants.

Last weekend my partner and I went to Stowe, VT for a few days. Our first night there it snowed and we were awed by the delights of seeing snow fall in/on the mountains. The following morning our walk to breakfast was cold and windy, but by midday it was 60 degrees (15.5 celsius) and sunny. We did a fair bit of wandering around in the sunshine, capped off with our first outdoor brewery visit of the season. We remained awed by the snow on the ground in the warm sunshine (we may be easily entertained.)

This brief exposure to warmth left me excited for upcoming days on our new back deck. I wasn’t the only one, because we weren’t home more than an hour from our weekend trip and my partner was taking the tarps off our deck furniture. Seems we both have the bug. With the furniture uncovered we’ve both been able to take some of our virtual meetings out there, and our dogs are getting acclimated to lounging on the deck (versus the many other places they lounge.)

All of this has me thinking about what types of movement activities I can take out on the deck this season. The desire to be outside is a relatively new one for me, so while so many other FIFI contributors have written about their outdoor adventures I have never really enjoyed those types of activities. I was a bookworm kid who hated the feel of grass of my bare feet (still do,) one who sunburned easily (still do,) and one who craved alone time in a cool, dark room (still do.) But now I also have this craving for sunshine, to feel the warmth on my back while enjoying the views and the nature going on around me. I notice which of the plants, flowers, and shrubs have buds, and I am excited for their blooms. And I think about what, besides reading and zoom meetings, I can enjoy on the deck. Here’s my list of things to try this spring:

– yoga

– stretching

– barre classes

– resistance band strength training

– meditation

None of these will surpass my one true outdoor summer activity, open water swimming, but they will be great pre- and post-swimming activities, or just good on their own.

What outdoor activities are you excited to try or get back to this season?

Amy Smith is a professor of Media & Communication and a communication consultant who lives north of Boston. Her research interests include gender communication and community building. Amy spends her movement time riding the basement bicycle to nowhere, walking her two dogs, and waiting for it to get warm enough for outdoor swimming in New England.