Feminist reflections on fitness, sport, and health
Author: elan.paulson
Elan lives in Ontario, where she curls, crochet, games, and explores feminist speculative fiction. A lifelong learner with a PhD in English and MEd in Educational Technology, she often writes about what team sports, personal challenges, and group experiences teach us about resilience, inclusion, and growth. Her cat, Theo, generously shares his home with her.
When I was in my 20s I was asked in a job interview (to be a casino table dealer) if I prefer various or repetitive tasks. I knew the best answer was: you say “both.”
But…turns out it’s not true: while some ppl take comfort in it, I struggle with repetition. I don’t usually take pleasure watching the same movies again and again. I get bored eating the same food. I have little interest in returning to the same vacation spots year after year.
That’s all fine. But when I pick up then drop exercise classes, sports leagues, or health routines, I can be critical of myself. It has become part of my self-story that I can’t make good habits. Some days, I even tell myself I am lazy; as evidence of my half-efforts to stick with stuff, I point to a closet of barely user gear.
Then, last week, someone I know described themselves as a novelty seeker. And I thought, hey, me too. ME. TOO.
Novelty seeker positively reframes all my negative self-talk. Recently, I went line dancing, I disc golfed, and I played scrimmage soccer in one week. I am taking up cycling in mid-life. I run around making things. Truly, rather than focus on one sport or type of exercise, I have always sought various ones.
Being a novelty seeker means that I trade off becoming really good at one or a few things by doing them over and over for the joy of experiencing many new things all the time. It means I am not less active, just differently active.
I still seriously admire all the people I know who run long distances, lift weights daily, or play pickleball 5 times a week. And I can appreciate that there is likely great variety within these activities that perhaps I don’t notice (because I haven’t stuck with them long enough).
Perhaps ultimately it is less about the number of favourite sports and activities we have and more about the mindset we bring to what we do. The idea of novelty-seeking works for me. What works for you?
Composite of multiple sports balls from Wikipedia is CC0.
I bought my first road bike today. It’s shiny, light, and a little bit intimidating. I’m entering my second year of riding in a cycling club, and now I have the kind of bike that many road cyclists have.
I am working through the difference between doing cycling and being a cyclist, and what it means to step toward something before I feel entirely ready.
For example, clip-in pedals. Everyone has an opinion on them. I am already preparing to face today the well-intended male employee fitting me on my new bike who has already twice insisted—insisted—on clip-ins.
But I’m nervous about them. Two cyclists were hit by cars in my area of recently. Every time I roll to the edge of the road, there’s a flicker of fear. It’s not just about falling in traffic but feeling unseen, or worse…seen but then dismissed by drivers.
Riding a bike means having to take up road space in my city. However, I was encouraged by an awesome documentary, Breakaway Femmes (2025), which retrospectively reveals the space women had to take up to be part of the male-dominated Tour de France race during the late 80s. That film showed how cycling is about taking risks for the sport one loves. It’s about choosing to move forward, even when standing still would feel safer.
So today I am moving forward on a version of myself I’ve been imagining for a while now. And first space I must claim for myself as a cyclist is the one in my own head. So here I go.
Our soccer building keeps league-wide policies: in this new league we couldn’t self-officiate or prevent too-skilled teams from registering. Most players still wanted to play on their own teams and keep score. So, how do you ensure a new league will be fun and friendly when many elements stay the same?
We have tried a few things: captains keep a group chat, and referees are asked to be aware of rough play. This year, each team nominated a “player of the game” from the opposing team—a small gesture to recognize effort and positivity, not just goals. Since its inception, I’ve enjoyed playing in this league and am grateful to those who have supported it so far!
Still, as play has improved over the past few years, I’ve noticed a shift in the intensity level of some games. It has made me wonder: how can we maintain the spirit of “chill”?
Here are some on-field ideas teams could adopt or maintain:
Drop back for any line or goal kick.
Stop play as soon as the keeper has the ball or is on the ground.
Discourage any arguing with referees calls. All concerns about calls go through captains.
Take a very short rest/water break within each half, even with subs (Ayso, 2024).
Rotate players across positions.
Teams who notice a skill gap, or when there is a goal difference of >4, pass a set number of times before shooting (Rabinoviz, 2015) or only make ground shots.
And some off-field ideas:
Each new season captains create a play agreement they share with their teams.
Keep communication flowing between refs, captains, and players throughout the season.
Encourage post-game socializing between teams.
Skip playoffs (especially shootouts) and just extend the season.
Check in with players occasionally for feedback.
Individuals can reflect after each game, or the season: Did I have fun? Did the other team help me to have fun? Did I help the other team to have fun? (Thanks to Sara for this idea.)
The goal isn’t to restrict play—it’s to shape it in a way that reflects our shared values: community, fun, safety, and mutual respect.
Around the same time I was reflecting on all this, I read Sam and her colleague’s article, “The Virtue of Aggression in Sport” (2025). I’ll admit, the title gave me pause—given that I was sharing an update about a league trying to minimize aggression! But the authors draw a thoughtful distinction between unacceptable violence and “controlled physicality” (para. 1). I’ve heard a few league players express similar views: physical intensity can be part of what makes soccer feel satisfying. It doesn’t have to mean harm.
The article makes the case that some aggression is appropriate, even desirable, insofar as “those who are highly motivated to win will pursue their goals vigorously” (para. 3). And I don’t disagree—it’s important to clarify what kinds of aggression are acceptable and unacceptable in competitive sports.
Sam’s article makes valid philosophical arguments, but I think our chill league strives to align with its broader point about defining what kinds of physicality we allow. We can pursue the goal of “chill” by creating a space where fun, fitness, and community are the measures of success. Ideally, “winning” isn’t about the scoreboard—it’s about how we feel during and after the game: connected, respected, and glad we showed up.
After playing in our last regular game of this season, I realized one more thing: I care less about physicality and more about avoiding situationswhere negativity and aggression/competitiveness feed each other. For me, it is essential to maintain positive feelings of goodwill and care for everyone on the field.
So, as the league evolves, I hope we keep deciding together what kind of experience we want to have, then actively working towards shaping that experience. I plan to keep pursuing (vigorously) the goal of keeping a positive vibe on the field: that’s a win for me.
Rec sports players: how do you keep things positive and fun, even with varying levels of skill, intensity, and physicality?
It’s been a long, cold winter, and I work a few days a week from home, so I’m inside at my desk a lot right now. When a friend told me she uses a Cubii whenever she works at her desk I went online to see about it (as one does).
The Cubii is one of many (many) under-desk elliptical and cycling trainers, ranging from about $150-$450 (if you don’t count the high-end ones). They claim to be small, silent, and easy enough to be peddled for exercise while one sits doing office work. The Cubii looks simple and convenient, though if I bought one it might join all of my other doo-dads I have bought over the years for simple and convenient exercise…now gathering dust.
Pedal trainers join many (many) other devices that are sold for exercise at one’s desk: isometric standing devices, standing desk mats with ridges for stretching, disc wobble cushions, gyro balls, and smart water bottles. I remember when at one time there was only the stabilizer ball that you sat on instead of a chair. Now you can buy an entire work station that doubles as exercise machinery.
Various people sitting on exercise balls at desks, a google image search
Awhile ago I read an article by Eryk Salvaggio (2024), “Challenging the Myths of Generative AI”, that has stuck with me. The piece focuses on how, based on misunderstandings about how AI works, certain myths are shaping how we justify AI’s importance and reshaping how we think about ourselves and what we do.
For example, AI is widely regarded as useful because it is understood to save time. (Frequent users know this may not be true depending on how complex the task, how good one’s prompting skills are, and how critical one is about the output). The productivity myth underlying this valuation is the automation of work. If is AI is good because it saves time, then automating more of our work with AI is good because it will save more time. In this AI-infused workflow cycle, where saving time with AI is better than working without it, the automation of work itself becomes the preferred norm.
Put another way, has anyone encouraged using AI to help complete a task more slowly because that task is worth spending time on?
I just spent a bunch of time explaining that idea (thanks for sticking with me) because the productivity myth may take a related form in the world of desk exercise equipment. This equipment is sold as a healthy remedy for the harms of sedentary office work, but it also produces a new idea that exercising while working is good. We save time because we are doing both at once, but in doing so our relationships to work and exercise change.
In “optimizing” work time also as exercise time (or using exercise time to work) then neither work nor exercise needs to be (should be?) the single focus of our time. Whether we are effective working while exercising, or exercising in safe form or duration while working, is beside the point.
Of course, no one lives in this purely either/or world: you can use your Cubii at your desk and still go curling later in the day. And, not every minute of our work day is likely to suffer if we were to divide our attention with light exercise once in awhilr. For fidgety people like myself, physical activity of some sort might indeed promote increased focus during certain tasks.
Furthermore, if you want to exercise at work, you can certainly avoid commodifying it by passing on the costly exercise equipment and opting for brief stretching or body weight exercises. Most importantly, I am certainly not refusing the vast evidence that prolonged seated work is bad for one’s health.
But…in reviewing many review pages of Cubiis (and their first and second cousins) I began reflecting on how serving the myth of productivity means we may be more more likely to buy things that will help us to squeeze more out of our time without questioning the squeezing. When it is always better to optimize by going faster or doing two things at once, we may start to care less about what we are actually doing than how long it takes us to get to the next thing.
Most online dictionaries describe wiggling as something like “movement from side to side or up and down in short, quick movements.”
My wiggling
I wiggle for reasons ranging from self-care to pain management to fun. I wiggle while in bed after I wake up, to wake up my muscles. Sometimes I like to wiggle right after a shower, waterdrops flying. I have some L4, L5 issues in my back, so I will wiggle to relieve tension and pain, especially after sitting. And of course, I definitely wiggle when I dance.
I’m trying to identify when I wiggle, it led me to think about my body movements that would not be considered wiggling, such as jiggling:
The difference between ‘wiggle’ and ‘jiggle’ is the control had in the movement. If something jiggles it is uncontrolled… how far it moves, which direction etc etc may be constrained, but are essentially random. If something wiggles then the movement is controlled.” (English Language Learners)
While I am fairly sure my wiggling is controlled and therefore not jiggling, I also cannot easily sit still (as my partner often reminds me). My body seems to need to be busy. So, I present many wiggle-adjacent behaviours as well.
My mind is as wiggly as my body. I enjoy wiggling around in topics that pique my curiosity. I pride myself on being able to wiggle out of problems I get myself into. I seem to thrive—physically and mentally—when there is plenty of wiggle room:
Wiggle Room: the freedom or opportunity to do something or to change your mind and do something differently if that is what is needed (Cambridge Dictionary).
Wiggling through this post
When I was first conceiving this post, but my negative inner voice dismissed the idea (too silly, too childish), I knew I needed to find a way to wiggle out of this thinking.
And what better way to do that than to use a generative AI chat bot to think for you? 😉 So here is Copilot on the matter of how wiggling relates to feminism:
Screenshot of Elan asking Copilot how wiggling is a feminist act, and its brief responses.
Copilot doesn’t think. It doesn’t understand it’s own generated text. This last algorithmically predicted suggestion is a word salad. But the first three ideas make sense to me: I see my wiggling as helping me feel free, be in control of my body, and express joy.
Your wiggling
Do you wiggle? Would you consider your wiggling an empowering act? Is it time to get wiggling a little right now?
A child of the 80s and childfree today, The Wiggles, an Australian children’s entertainment group from the 1990s, never made it onto my radar until recently. But I was happy to discover that another fellow blogger, @isekhmet (Christine) knows about The Wiggles!
So, whether you are well-acquainted with this song, or you are just hearing it for the first times (or few dozen times—it gets in your head), here is “Get Ready to Wiggle” by The Wiggles (song lyrics). This is the “OG Wiggles.”
Get Ready to Wiggle by The Wiggles
Get Ready To Wiggle” is the very first song performed by The Wiggles. The song inspired the band’s name because they thought that wiggling described the way children dance.
I had a hard time getting out of bed Monday morning. Winter weather. Less light. Cold room. Early hour. Big work week ahead. Feeling kind of stiff.
And one great reason to stay in bed: Warm blankets.
I put off rising by scrolling through a few photos from the weekend when my friend, Kimi (who recently travelled to Turkey), made us a great Turkish-style brunch with simple but fresh and delicious foods: simit (a sesame crusted bagel), menemen (an egg and tomato dish), clotted cream and honey, tahini and molasses, cheeses, fruits, Nutella, crusty bread, and Turkish tea. Easy to make, eat with your hands, and enjoy many cute little ramekin dishes! After our feast, she gave me some of our leftovers.
Turkish-style breakfast for two. All the cutlery was placed by me; turns out it was not needed because you are supposed to grab things with your hands or with the crusty bread.
In my bed nest, looking at the photos, I thought: I could make breakfast today. But I almost never make breakfast during the week, even when I work from home.
So that is what I decided to do. Instead of heading straight to my desk with a cup of black coffee sloshing in one hand and store-bought granola in another, I made myself leftover Turkish-style breakfast and a half carafe of tea. A decadent breakfast by my weekday standards.
A smaller but still exciting leftover Turkish-style breakfast for one. Notice the lack of unnecessary cutlery this time.
As I munched, I mused over how I have periodically tried to motivate myself to rise early with exercise: stretching, YouTube dancing, around the block walking. This time last year I was training for a Ho Ho Ho holiday run. But I haven’t loved AM exercise enough to stick with it; plus, for me PM exercise feels good for unwinding from the day.
While I have had many noble starts with early morning exercise, I could not remember the last time I got up early on a weekday intending to eat a great breakfast. But Turkish-style breakfast was awesome: I was fuelled all day (sustained by the caffeine infusion of clove tea).
A carafe of loose black tea in a small bell tea cup.
I share this story as an idea and as permission: if you wake up and you don’t feel motivated by what usually gets you out of bed…try making yourself an awesome and unexpected breakfast.
Toothbrushing, morning stretches, reaching out to a loved one, pet care, awesome breakfast: what gets you jumping out of bed in the morning to face the day?
For the past week and a half I had my bike inside, parked right between my kitchen and my living room, creating an unmistakeable reminder to cycle just 18km more before the end of my first outdoor season.
But fall is busy, winter sports have started, and I just haven’t found the time or headspace.
Some things work against me: a busy job that has me traveling some early mornings and evenings. I live near busy, cyclist-unfriendly streets (at least two people have sadly lost their lives near me in the past few years). A number of my club’s rider development rides were rained out this summer.
I think I psyched myself out too, a little. I struggled on a ride early in the season and convinced myself I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the excellent women riders in the group. I tell myself I’m not good at routine, but sometimes I wonder how much I am just excusing myself from committing to one.
I learned that my hybrid is heavier and slower compared to most road bikes. Also, no clips may account for my slowness.
These things, all adding up, left me getting out less often, and less longer, than I’d liked.
So, I’m finally calling it. Here I am after 8 months: 382 kms and just shy of 23 hours clocked on my bike. What I managed in a season some club riders do in a single weekend.
A screenshot of a cycle app. Profile for Elan Paulson. Member since March 2024. 23 rides. 2,404 M climbed. 22h 42m time riding. 383km travelled.
But SLOW was my Word of the Year (WOTY), so I’m giving myself permission to be a slow rider and have a slow start (and finish) in my fire season.
I moved my bike downstairs when I realized a friend had recently gifted me his old trainer, so my “season” doesn’t have to end: I can get to that 400 mark before the end of 2024.
I had very good time in my first riding season with the London Cycling Club. I met a few new people, rode in some new locations, and shared in a cycling birthday party for Sam. Cyclists I’ve met has been friendly, helpful, and supportive.
My best ride wasn’t my longest or fastest. I was riding in town one late summer afternoon with three friends. The warm sun and the green trees were all around me, and as I coasted down a big long hill I felt like a kid again, without a care in the world. It was just simply fun.
When I think back to when I was a kid riding around my neighbourhood on bikes, I had never cared about my cycling stats, how fast I was going, or whether I had clips or not. Maybe I will have more fun cycling next year if I care a little less about those things as an adult too. 🙂
My hybrid bike, now downstairs and waiting patiently to be put on the green trainer, behind the chair, over the winter.
It’s Sam’s Birthday Week! Some of the FIFI Bloggers, in no particular order, want to celebrate Sam and wish her a very happy 60th birthday!
Mina:
I can not choose one post of Sam’s as a favorite or most iconic. For me it is the consistent curiosity and resilience that threads through every post that is the force and grace of Sam. Happy Birthday!
Amy:
My favorite posts by Sam are her aspirational travel posts and/or lists of where she hopes to travel. These posts inspire me to think more about the adventures I want to undertake. Even knowing where to find some of the information for these experiences is half the battle, and it’s nice to not have to look so hard when Sam is sharing her plans.
Savita:
In 2013, the Western News published an article about two feminist philosophers who set a challenge for themselves to be the fittest they’d ever been by the time they turned 50. Being a colleague of theirs at Western and one year younger, I was intrigued by their feminist perspective on fitness. As a scientist in a mostly male discipline, I didn’t get a lot of feminism in my daily work life (things have changed a bit since then). So I contacted Sam and Tracy and we went out for lunch and chatted about their challenge and their new blog, Fit, Feminist and (almost) Fifty. The feminist perspective really opened my eyes to other women’s experiences with their bodies, nutrition, in the gym, on the bike and other exercise arenas. I invited both of them to give a presentation to our endocrinology/diabetes residents, and wrote an article about swimming for their new blog, and so began a relationship with Sam and Tracy and their blog that’s lasted 11 years. I love what they’ve accomplished with their blog and book, and their journey has also been empowering for me and has also changed my thinking about exercise and nutrition. After several guest blogs, I accepted Sam’s invite to participate in the FIFI community, and it’s inspired me to keep a fitness journal and to join a swimming community on Facebook! Thanks, Sam, for your energy, enthusiasm and inspiration, and happy 60th!!
Natalie:
What I appreciate the most about Sam is that she is an expert nerd herder. She convenes get togethers, rides and general silliness. She understands the value of exercising with friends. She helped me go from not cycling at all to a little 20 km with friends. I was so nervous but she knew exactly who to invite so I had a good time. What a gift.
I hope she continues to have people in her life that do some of the convening.
Bettina:
I came across Fit is a Feminist Issue pretty randomly one day, but stuck around reading for some time. The way Sam (and the others) wrote and thought about fitness gave me a whole new perspective and when I mustered the courage to ask if I could write Sam was so kind! I don’t know her in person but I always appreciate her drive, generosity and will never cease to be in awe of how she handles her big job, running the blog, and doing about a million other things. Wishing you loads more of that energy, Sam!!
Kim:
I joined the blog in 2012 after moving to the uk for work and taking up cycling in a serious way. I didn’t know Sam or Tracy super well, but as soon as I reached out to ask about contributing posts from my 2013 London to Paris charity bike ride they were welcoming and supportive like you wouldn’t believe. I became a regular contributor and they supported me again when I started my teaching blog, The Activist Classroom. Sam retweeted and liked and reblogged my AC stuff all the time, encouraging me forward; and when I got back to Canada she welcomed me into her riding community warmly and introduced me to Cate, Susan, and Sarah, all of whom are now close friends. Sam has had a huge impact on me personally and professionally as I enter the full on midlife years (50 next month!) and I’m super, super grateful. Love you Sam!
Nicole:
From the time I sent Sam my first idea for a post, as a guest blogger in 2019, to now, I have always appreciated Sam’s welcome approach. When I sent that first request to Sam in 2019, I felt I had something to say (about fitness and feminism) but I wasn’t sure I was a “writer”. I still have my doubts, but having Sam welcome me to the blog as a regular writer helped me feel I had something worthwhile to say, regardless of my status as a writer.
Also, as a person with lifelong doubts about my academic prowess, it has buoyed me to know that I am welcome amongst this esteemed group of philosophers and academics. I don’t think I can pick one post. I appreciate Sam’s commitment to her own fitness, through physical challenges (knee surgeries) and busy Dean-ing and looking after her family. Sam’s post are always balanced, open-minded, while sticking to her main theses that fitness should be available to all. I have no doubt that I will continue to enjoy Sam’s posts for however long she chooses to blog.
Of course, I also appreciate Sam’s continuous ability to keep all the bloggers organized. She is always there to respond to a question and I am not sure how she does it with her busy schedule.
Thanks, Sam!
Tracy:
My favourite post from Sam is the one she wrote way way back called “Fat, Fit, and What’s Wrong with BMI.” I feel as if that post helped to define the blog’s direction really early on. I also think now’s a good time to acknowledge the amazing talent Sam has of keeping this blog rolling on a daily basis, despite that she is keeping a zillion other things rolling along at the same time. I’m always in awe, and feel an immeasurable amount of gratitude and good fortune that our birthdays are so close together, that our conversation about “these issues” has been so enduring, and that I stumbled into the blog project with her back in 2012! Happy birthday, Samantha!
Catherine:
Sam and I first met in 2010 at the International Association of Women Philosophers conference at Western. It was clear then that we had a future as friends, philosophical colleagues, activity pals and feminist comrades-in-arms. Fast forward to 2013, she invited me to write my first guest blog post—Facing Fears of the Group Ride. This led to more guest posts, and by 2014, I was a regular weekly blogger.
Writing for this blog is one of the great joys in my life, and Samantha is one of the primary reasons. She is ever so patient with timing of posts, quietly reminding us about schedules and pivoting deftly when that schedule gets jostled. She provides us with #blogfodder on our blogger Facebook page, offering info and new topics for posts. I still marvel at how she manages all that throughput—reading content coming in, posting it on the FIFI FB page, keeping track of post scheduling, writing her own multiple posts every week, and reposting all of our content on social media.
The world, the blog and all of us have changed over the years that Fit is a Feminist Issue has been in our lives. We have changed jobs, changed partners, moved house, lost loved ones, taken on new activities, had medical encounters, and gotten COVID (more than once for some of us). But I’m grateful and happy to report that FIFI is still here, we are still here, and Sam is still here—at the helm, steering, looking ahead, helping us to enjoy the view along with her. Happy 60th Sam, and thank you.
Cate:
I met Sam around 2015, because two people from entirely different parts of my life said “how is it that you don’t know Sam?!” They said that because we have so much in common – obviously, we share a commitment to fitness, and an ongoing curiosity about the meaning and implications of the movement choices we make. And as soon as we met, I slid into the blogger world with a sigh feeling I’d found my people. But another thing we share is persistence. Sam joked a couple of weeks ago in response to one of my posts that I am a super persistent human – but so is Sam. There are many many things I could point to that I admire and appreciate about Sam – as an academic leader, a philosopher, a parent, a community member and most of all, as a friend. I will not ever forget the way I felt when she and Sarah committed their day to come to my mother’s funeral – it meant more than I can say.
But one of the things I admire and appreciate the most is the way she takes a hard, impossible task – whether that’s Deaning, keeping this blog going on a daily basis, or being present for her friends and family – and tackles it with good humour and optimism. I don’t know if anyone else I know could have taken on a double knee replacement and the intense pain and physio that followed with the commitment, determination and strength that Sam did. I am in awe at the way she recognized the limits of her body, assessed the options and dug into doing everything she could to keep herself as mobile and strong as possible. I am grateful to have her spirit and her self in my world. Happy birthday, age-twin! I’ll be there shortly!
Christine:
Sam and I have never met in person but I had the good fortune to interview her via Zoom for an article I was writing back in 2020 and something she said has stuck with me ever since.
We were talking about deadlines and feeling behind on your work and she said that she was technically behind on a lot of things at that point but that she wasn’t dwelling on it. She had just accepted that she was going to be late with that stuff and kept working.
As someone who has spent a lot of her life scrambling and apologizing for getting behind on things (ADHD, whaddaya mean?) her comment was a big deal for me.
It was ok to say ‘Well, that’s going to be late!’ and just forge ahead? Brilliant!
I mean, it wasn’t the first time I had heard that and it probably wasn’t even the first time I had tried to tell myself that but hearing it from someone I admire as much as Sam? That made a HUGE difference for me.
And while that comment was about writing, not about fitness, I think it’s emblematic of how Sam shows up for the blog and for those of us who write for the blog.
There are so many things to celebrate and admire about Sam but her approach to her work and to fitness and to the blog is a key element in the success of Fit is a Feminist Issue.
Sam shows up.
She shows up how she is today, even if she sometimes wishes things were different, and she does what she can with what she has.
She doesn’t pretend to be perfect. She doesn’t offer ‘one quick fix.’ She just keeps figuring things out and adjusting as she goes.
And she asks the same of the rest of us here at Fit is a Feminist Issue. She doesn’t judge, she doesn’t ask more than we can give, she immediately adjusts if plans change, and she supports what we are trying to do with our posts and with our fitness plans.
Sam, you rock and we are lucky to know you. Happy Birthday!
Martha:
I met Samantha back in 1982 when we were both deeply involved with student newspapers and shared similar values and ideas about feminism, social justice and community. We worked together in 1985-86 for a national student press cooperative and shared a house. We kept in touch after graduate school, marriages, children, house moves, job changes and life in general. We both took up running around the same time and kept up-to-date through email. When Facebook came to be, we were able to stay connected so much more easily. It helped us take advantage of face-to-face opportunities and we’ve shared a number of meals, in her home and mine.
It wasn’t long after Sam and Tracy founded the Fit as a Feminist Issue that Sam would send me occasional nudges to write for the blog when I would post about my trail walks, my swimming adventures or relearning to cycle. The nudges became suggestions on posts and finally I took the hint and began writing a few guests posts. I think maybe it was after a year that Sam said, “why don’t you write regularly?” and I thought to myself, “why not?”
So, thank you Sam for your persistence and patience, your gentle reminders as I learned to navigate scheduling, blogging software and the fitness world with my feminist lens. Happy birthday Samantha, my friend of more than 40 years and counting. What fun we’ve had and what more fun awaits!
Elan:
I’m a fan of Sam’s first post, made the day before her birthday 12 years ago: In a blogsphere of stylish artifice, it’s refreshingly straight up. I also kind of like this post, made on her birthday August 31, 2014, where she features a cycling cake. August 31, 2019 she talked about her new knee, and now here she is with one! I’ve learned a lot about Sam over the years from her many thoughtful and honest blog posts….including how much she likes her birthday! 🙂 I’ve known Sam indirectly since I was a grad student at Western, entering into her outer orbit around 2006. Back then, I admired her from afar as a feminist and a scholar and a leader, but I was one of many students who did, I imagine. Years later, maybe around 2019, I had always wanted to write blog, but I always felt highly self-conscious about my own writing voice. Sam has been a consistently supportive of me and other FIFI bloggers, and I’ve always been grateful for her supportiveness and her graciousness. Thank you, Sam, for all your many posts on the blog, and all the efforts you do behind the scenes. You deserve a whole week (and more) of celebration.
I grew up with the romantic trope of the adventurous, rangey 20-something backpacker who freely wanders the world for months at a time. I stayed home for grad school in my twenties: the only backpack I carried was with my library books or my groceries. Then, last year at 44, I bought my first travel backpack (a Tortuga 35L), and so far I’ve done two short overseas trips with it (and smaller local trips).
What I lack in experience with worldly backpacking I make up for by watching others. These small midlife backpacking ideas gained learned from my more well-travelled midlife friends have made this style of travel kind and supportive for me. I acknowledge I use them as a privileged, white English-speaking woman travelling to urban and semi-urban places as a foreigner and a guest.
My friend Marnie and her 40L pack, while we were about to leave our guest house in Istanbul.
Lightening the load
My first lessons of midlife backpacking were: pack light (if you wish to avoid luggage checks on planes) and be ready to carry what you pack.
Many travel backpacks today come with a few different clips—across the chest and across the stomach—to distribute the weight of the pack. On my recent trip I left my waist clips at home to reduce overall pack weight; however, I regretted it, as without them the full weight of the pack meant my shoulders got tired faster.
In my pre-travel preparation I saw for sale many funky and clever but bulky and expensive smaller bags and bottles for stuff within the pack. My more experienced travel buds showed me that ziploc bags and plastic water bottles were much lighter, had many different uses, and could be re-used multiple times.
Medicines and their containers
Last time I travelled abroad I got a cold, and it was miserable without the medicines I use. So I was not going to leave them at home again
On my recent trip I kept with me at all times a small key ring capsule with emergency over-the-counter meds, and in my pack I had a larger fold up storage pill container with enough for the whole trip. Some of my friends even travel with (doctor-prescribed) antibiotics and medicines for UTIs, just in case of an emergency.
It may be extra planning and cost, but it is worthwhile to me to bring a range of medicines that can make me feel better if I feel unwell, even if it is unlikely I will get sick.
A large and small pill holder
Foot care and hydration
This year I followed my friend Marnie’s lead and took extra care of my feet: I brought moisture-wicking hiking socks, KT blister prevention tape, moleskin, wound cleaning wipes, waterproof bandages, and foot cream for quick at-night foot massages. When I scraped my foot raw on the submerged rocks while swimming at the beach in Greece, I was able to care for my feet the days following.
As well, I brought a water bladder and water purification tablets. I used them first as a water station in the places we stayed; later I took them along on hikes in 37 degree Celsius weather. I also brought electrolyte tablets, using half of one at a time. As a result, I was never dehydrated and I felt really good at the end of the day. I didn’t need expensive water bottle purchases in remote locations, and it kept my hands free.
Elan at the Saklikent Gorge, Turkey, wearing a bucket hat, sunglasses, shorts, and a backpack with a bladder and hose for hydration.
Apps and digital tools
My friends showed me how to up my mobile game when traveling internationally.
Our trip planner, Kim, checks not only directions but also the Google satellite and street views of the places she is going. That way, she can marry written or oral instructions with visible paths and landmarks to confirm wayfinding.
Upon Kimi’s recommendation, I used the free version of the DeepL app for real time written and audio language translations. We used the app to chat with some local women on the train as we played cards, and it was a great way to pass the time and make new friends.
After I accidentally gave the wrong amount and currency to a store vendor, a Sheila suggested her free version of Units Plus, a currency exchange app that converts two currencies quickly. This app was helpful in places with multiple currencies to avoid overpaying.
I used to travel with print books, and I appreciate the serendipity of leaving or finding good books where backpackers stay. However, this time I used Apple Books for a novel, a library travel audio book, and podcasts to pass the time while traveling.
Every app saved pack weight and made the trip a little safer, easier, and morefun.
Give myself and others grace
My midlife-friendly learning on my recent backpacking trip: do what I need to be a little easier on myself and others. Stop and take the pack off. Invest in quick-dry underwear (that really does dry super quick on the line). Take a break for another coffee before I get tired and grumpy later in the day.
Always try to be patient and kind with others, especially those in the travel service industry. Take the time to ask a hotel owner about their family or a server about what they would recommend ordering on the menu.
I learned to embrace the fact I don’t have anything to prove on my backpack travels. Instead, I could exercise the self-understanding that I have acquired by midlife (compared to my much less self-aware self in my 20s). Being a midlife backpacker has helped me to be not only kinder to myself as a traveller but also to the locals who shoulder many burdens put upon them by travellers (most of which I do not ever see).
Elan’s legs and feet over a concrete walkway on our way to Fethiye, Turkey. We stopped for a break, so I used my pack to elevate my legs and give my feet a much-needed rest!
What small ideas or tips (for backpacking or otherwise) have you learned that make your travel journeys a little easier for you in midlife?
On a recent sightseeing trip to northern, central, and western Turkey with 5 friends, I hiked the gorge in the Saklikent National Park. Numerous travel websites like this one describe (and warn) about what to expect:
The first one or two kilometers can be covered by everyone including the children. However, going deeper into the canyon, there are more and more obstructions. Further on, one has to climb up with the aid of ropes hanging on the walls at certain points. After a few kilometers it is almost impossible to go any further. […] While touring in Saklikent National Park, it is necessary to wade in hip-high waters from time to time. In other words, there is a price to pay for visiting such a beautiful location: Getting your clothes and shoes wet. It would be beneficial to take along flippers or rubber shoes for those wishing to go deeper into the canyon.
Photo by Kimi Maruoka. Me early in the hike, dry and sitting overconfidently on my rock throne. Things would shortly change.
This description is pretty accurate, except there were no ropes. Instead, there were Turkish guides (all young men) who hung out around the halfway mark of the gorge, waiting for intrepid hikers who might need help. Although we had come prepared with good shoes and dry bags, as six mid-life women-identifying Canadian tourists we were exactly those hikers. Ali did not offer to guide us: he just joined our group and started showing us the best ways to place our feet to hoist ourselves over and through each wet, rocky impasse. Near the end, Ali even used parts of his own body (upper leg, knee, even ankle) as our steps. But we were all treated at the end of the hike to a deliciously strong and cold rushing waterfall.
Our hiking group of 6 and our guide, Ali, at the end of what was passable without rock climbing gear. When Ali left us partway out, we paid what he thought was a good tip for his services.
Then, we turned around and went back the way we came. Climbing out, we were the very image of the soaked, happy hikers that had made us curious when we were first heading in. We stretched our bodies afterwards but were still pretty sore the next day. A few bruises came out. Although we remained on the gorge floor, my friend’s phone app said we climbed the equivalent of 23 flights of stairs.
Photo by Lisa Porter. Me at the back of the line as Ali helped each of us up over the wet rocks (then would run ahead to assist us with the next obstacle).
The steps count and the website description above fail to capture my experience hiking this gorge. It was astonishing to move through the deep caverns, see the shafts of light falling on the walls, hear the echoing rush of water. Early in the hike I thought about the many people who journeyed here before me and the thousands of years prior that led to the gorge’s formation. I was awestruck and, at one point, moved to some tears by its beauty.
Video by Lisa Porter (00:22). As Lisa pans the inside of the gorge, I’m making a comment to no one about how I’d noticed hard hats were available but optional at the entry turnstiles.
My pause for taking an emotional moment was necessary because I was otherwise fully absorbed: it took total focus to wade through pools of uncertain depths and scale slick boulders with and without Ali’s help. Every step and turn required careful foot and hand placement, as well as weight shifts, to avoid falling or getting hurt.
Photo by Lisa Porter. Me coming out of the hike, with a low stream of water on the gorge floor and high rock walls on either side.
So, to call it a workout, or even a hike, does not fully express the total engagement of my body, my mind, and my heart in this stunning and memorable natural environment. I think I want to find more of these places to hike: they make my muscles and my heart sing.
Photo by Lisa Porter. Me wet, muddied, and so happy.
FIFI readers, please share an activity or experience that moved not only your body but also your senses, your emotions, or your spirit. Where did you go, what did you do, and what was it like!?
