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.
Rien n’est plus précieux que le temps. (Nothing is more precious than time.)
I was let go from my full-time job recently at a time when my entire sector is struggling. A sympathetic colleague signed off on a supportive message to me with “Stay well.”
Wellness is the focus of much career transition advice I have read so far (on websites, the job program I am in, etc.). Some of it makes sense for anyone: see friends, do exercise, get outside, eat good food, get enough sleep. Some is specific to the emotions and challenges that go along with unexpected job loss: name your feelings, make prudent budget cuts, consider making time to upskill, etc.
Some wellness advice focuses on being mindful about next steps: take time to reflect on and even rethink one’s career goals and job hunting strategy. One piece I read warns against running right back to look for similar jobs when “pursuing a similar role might be the first step in letting history repeat itself.”
It all seems aimed at putting me in a space where I can discover new, even undiscovered, paths ahead for me. But it is a circuitous route: taking time away from looking for work in order to find it. And for a self-admitted workaholic, all this not looking for work feels like work. It is hard to enjoy free time when it is imposed…and the clock ticks with no secure income.
As my brain has been chewing on the work of wellness, I happened to think of flânerie, which one blogger describes as being “all about experiencing the world with an open heart and an unhurried spirit.” In the 19th century, wealthy French male flâneurs walked and wandered the urban cityscapes in a detached, observational way “to appreciate the world […] in its simplest form, free from the pressures of time.” Another way to put it is that they were idlers, which some saw as lazy and others saw as radical.
Paul Gavarni, Le Flâneur, 1842.
Should flâneurs be my wellness gurus right now? You can’t disagree that it’s nearly always a good idea to get out for a walk. In the context of job loss, “staying well” may require some serendipitous, open-heartedfrench wandering. Getting idle in order to see what’s around the next corner. Maybe I will start with Lauren Elkin’s book Flâneuse: Women Walk the City (2017).
Not being of the elite class, however, I only have a limited time to be free from the pressure of time. I can only afford to make flânerie part-time work.
What is your experience with wellness during job loss, and how much work was it “work” to try to savour the time?
I knew my 16-day trip to Egypt with 3 midlife friends would be a fun, budget-friendly adventure, but it also became a test of stamina and strength for me.
We had no tour big bus providing a comfy, air-conditioned bubble. Rather, our ambitious travel schedule took us through half the country, hauling our backpacks up modest hotel staircases and navigating every natural and human-made obstacle in our path. Although we had quiet evenings, including a few days by a rooftop pool, by day our bodies were moving in lots of ways.
Our first of many tomb and temple visits, the burial chamber of Bannentiu, 26th dynasty (Roman Era) in the Baharia Oasis.
Bodies in Motion
In the desert near the Baharia Oasis we climbed up (then surfed down) sand dunes. In downtown Cairo, the honking cars, uneven pavement, and throngs of moving people in the street demanded constant physical manouvering. We toured ancient sites out in the hot sun, including Luxor’s Avenue of Sphinxes and Aswan’s Forgotten Obelisk. We also used steep ramps and narrow tunnels inside multiple tombs and pyramids, crouching under low ceilings carved over three and four thousand years ago!
Folks climbing a ramp in one of the Giza Pyramids, built for Pharoah Khufu in the 2500s BCE. Kim said the ramps were put in after her visit 16 years ago: before it was just dirt.
As well, we hiked three silent, stunning canyons in the South Sinai region that shimmered white, red, and multi-coloured in the sunshine. The next day, after a caravan of camels and their handlers got us most of the way up Mt Sinai, we used 750 steep steps to get up to its peak.
Riding Asfour (the Second), a 7-year old camel up the first 3000 steps of My Sinai was a highlight. And although Asfour did most of the work, my legs were still sore the next day!
Later, it was a relief to float face down in the salty water of the Red Sea over the most beautiful coral and schools of fish I have seen. We snorkelled twice: off the beach in Sharm El Sheik and off a glass-bottom boat in Hurghada. But even in and near the water, I had to be thinking about dehydration and sunburn.
Kimi and me snorkelling just off the beach in the Red Sea. Video by Lisa Porter.
Getting hurt could mean getting stuck. I nearly did a few times, once when I mildly rolled an ankle in the Coloured Canyon and when I jammed a finger on a tomb doorway at the Saqqara necropolis. But it felt good to keep moving. At least twice we saw a tourist who seemed unprepared or was having great difficulty getting through the tomb shafts.
Kim and Lisa going down the low-lit ramps in what I think was the Step Pyramid, built for Pharoah Djoser in the 2600s BCE. Video by Kimi Maruoka.
We covered thousands of steps per day, even on our 2- to 7-hour travel days. At the last minute I decided to leave my fitness tracker at home, and I’m glad I did. It helped me to make sense of how I was feeling in my body rather than by stats on a screen.
Rope repelling, then a rebar ladder, just to get down into the White Canyon. Our guide admitted he used this to judge hikers’ readiness for this canyon.
Caring Co-Travellers
And my body did feel many things, as I was under the weather for a good part of the trip: first menstrual cramps, a head cold that turned to cough, then mild heatstroke after the first time snorkeling, and finally a stomach bug. On my worst night, I laid awake shaking with chills, sipping tepid tablet-purified water, and waiting for dawn (or death, I had thought self-piteously).
A short video of Cairo’s downtown streets at night. Our group kept close watch on each other to avoid getting lost or run over.
But I survived. As a white, English-speaking tourist with a credit card and travel insurance on a holiday, I was never really in serious danger. I saw many Egyptians who may have been facing economic hardships and health risks I will never have to deal with as a middle-class Canadian.
Nevertheless, I am so grateful for my three travel buddies, who showed each other constant care throughout our journey. We divided snacks, each bought rounds of water, shared everything from tissues to electrolytes, and carried the mood for each other until someone sick (usually me) recovered.
A cat next to my day pack and water bottle. I stayed hydrated with old and new friends!
Kim, who had planned the travel and booked the local guides and drivers, happily made last-minute arrangements to help me join later when an early morning tour of Isis Temple in Aswan wasn’t possible for me. This caring company was the heart of my trip.
Me in a feeling-better moment, making silly Instagram poses with the backdrop of the Red Canyon behind me. Photos by Kimi Maruoka.
Proof of Life
I believe that our greater exertions paid off in greater fun. In exchange for living out of packs and in our sore, dust-covered bodies, we got to see and sleep in neat places, including under the desert stars, where we felt extremely lucky to be there, together and alive.
Our remarkable view of the white desert at night. This photo was not taken with a black/white filter.
There’s a certain idea of midlife that says to slow down, be careful, rest more. This trip refused that. It demanded and invited all kinds of motion, reminding me how much the body can still do when it must. It turns out that I was strong enough for Egypt.
Lisa and Elan racing (falling?) down a sand dune in the White Desert. Photo by either Kim or Kimi.
And by the end of the trip, I used nearly every pill I’d packed and every muscle I had. But getting over everything became part of my adventure story. I came home with a mildly sprained finger, hardwon but still overpriced souvenirs, and a feeling that my flawed and frustrating body could still bring me much, much joy.
Our fearless foursome trekking in the desert. To borrow a phrase from Kimi and her sisters: “We did it!!”
I volunteered this week at The Grand Slam of Curling event, The AMJ Masters, which features 16 top men’s teams and 16 top women’s teams. Many are from North America, but other countries like Korea, Japan, and Switzerland are also representing.
Sign that says Welcome to the Grand Slam of Curlingt (GSOC)
There’s a lot I like about this curling event. The teams aren’t mixed gender, but the draws schedule them to play at the same time. That means you can watch four men’s and four women’s teams competing side by side on the same ice. I’m still newish to curling, so this was an exciting sports-watching experience for me!
Curlers on the ice sliding to stretch and warm up.
Team members wear matching kits, and their stretchy deliveries and hard sweeping show a shared level of fitness for fast-paced, eight-end games. But body sizes vary. Some athletes wear glasses (rather than contacts), while others sport baseball caps. There’s some small room to bring one’s style, and self, to the ice.
Men’s and women’s teams playing at the same time on different sheets
Near the end of the tournament there is a GSOC Pride Night, with a discounted tickets, beverage specials, and a post-game Pride event featuring live drag performances. Apparently there is a karaoke night too! It is great to see the sport evolving with the community it has always been about.
Sign says Karaoke on Saturday. GSOK Grand Slam of Karaoke
GSOC is still a private, for-profit organization with no standalone policy on gender identity and expression (that I could find), unlike the non-profit, development-focused Curling Canada. Shared ice time and inclusive events show curling’s welcoming spirit. Maybe the GSOC will follow Curling Canada’s lead by eventually offering a similar policy.
Still, it’s a privilege to volunteer for this event, and not only because I get to see up close some fantastic curling by teams from around the world. I hope organizations like GSOC keep making curling fun and celebratory of the many ways curling athletes are different and differently awesome.
In the arena, with four sheets and an audience
Plus, there’s even delicious snacks for volunteers. Thanks Denise!
I recently went kayak camping with 6 friends at a remote Ontario provincial park called Killarney. Over 6 days and 5 nights we kayaked on a lake to 3 different camp sites. It was a chance for some holiday rest but also some active challenges.
Each site stop meant packing and unpacking my (borrowed) kayak: sleeping gear, food gear, hygiene gear, camp chair, bug repellants, clothes, and drying line. These were stored in dry sacs that kept stuff dry in inclement weather or if the kayak tips. We also agreed to each pack out our own garbage, which had to be stored every night in our kayaks to avoid attracting animals.
Though I was a girl guide and did family trailercamper trips as a kid, I am newer to camping where you haul your own gear, purify your own water, eat primarily rehydrated food, and eliminate in a “thunderbox”. On every trip I learn more through observing others and asking questions to find what arrangements suit me best (eg, tent vs hammock for sleeping, what vegetarian foods I can take, etc.).
I’m on my own to make sure I can carry what I pack, I pick up after myself, and I keep myself clean, dry, sated, and injury-free. Although this seems like regular adult stuff, in nature with no other amenities than what I carry, I must plan ahead and be self-sufficient. As one of my friends said during the trip, “Doing this as a woman, as a group of women, is empowering.” (Another one said camping is having fun while being mildly uncomfortable.)
What is empowering is not just taking care of yourself but also working together as a group. These women harnessed 7 kayaks in a trailer safely for highway driving, navigated to a remote provincial park, kayaked to multiple camp sites, used fishing gear, arranged in pairs for food prep and clean up, found wood, set up big tarps in case of rain, and shared anything that was needed, from extra salt to insect repellant to tampons to skin bandages.
For nearly a week were on our own but also together: travelling, paddling, swimming, fishing, card playing, pleinair watercolor painting, food and drink imbibing, mosquito repelling, storytelling, and looking out for each other.
I am grateful to have learned so much about the tricks and tools of kayak camping from these women. It’s given me a sense of accomplishment and pride in a hobby that’s fun but not always easy or convenient. I’ve chosen from here this quotation, attributed to Madonna (who may or may not also be a kayak camper), to sum up my thoughts:
“As women, we have to start appreciating our own worth and each other’s worth. Seek out strong women to befriend, to align yourself with, to learn from, to collaborate with, to be inspired by, to support, and enlightened by.” – Madonna
What do you do, on your own but also with others, that gives you a sense of personal autonomy as well as community?
7 kayaks hauled by a truck7 women in kayaks5 women sitting in front of a campfire at duskThe view, of an overturned kayak near the water’s edge, from my tent at dawn
My partner and I took our bicycles on a short holiday road trip across part of Ontario, Canada to visit family and friends. It wasn’t a cycling holiday, but it was a holiday that involved some cycling. Road trip cycling was a new experience for us recent owners of a road bike (me) and an e-bike (my partner). Among visits, dinners, and museum trips, we managed to get out 3 times in 6 days.
Road trip cycling gives you a new way to explore new places. On ours, the weather was beautiful and the locations were scenic. After a few times, we got bike and gear extraction and repacking with the SUB down to a science. But it wasn’t issue-free.
A relatively new road cyclist training with a club, I was excited to explore longer paths mapped by other cyclists using my Ride GPS app. But I mistakenly assumed I would be leading the rides. I didn’t recognize it right away, but it turns out my partner had their own ideas about which way and for how long we should ride, decisions made more by feeling and impulse.
Our differences of opinion led to some frustration. The GPS-marked paths I chose sometimes had some longer-than-comfortable gravel stretches or were busy with “walkers.” The random paths my partner chose led to dead ends or us dodging traffic to cross busy roads. One time we each doggedly took what we thought was the best route … and lost sight of each other (phone call, waiting). Another time we got different advice from hotel staff on how to best get our bikes out of the underground parking lot, so we each stubbornly took our own ways up topside.
When cycling alone or with a club, I have learned, there is generally a single and shared vision of the ride. When cycling casually with a partner in new places, the path, duration, and speed must all be negotiated. You’d think we could have just laugh it off at the time, but when one of us had felt really uncomfortable based on a choice the other had made it wasn’t always easy to find levity.
Next time I will still plan our rides with maps, but I will also try to go with the flow, communicate more, and keep upbeat when something unexpected happens. Maybe we agree to alternate who lead the rides. Maybe we each get one “turnaround” audible per ride if things feel bad for one of us. Holiday road trip cycling is not only enjoyable; it can also be an interesting test of a partnership!
Who leads when you ride casually with a partner, family member, or a friend? How do you negotiate differences?
A map of Belleville with a red line marking the path riddenA map of Wolf’s Island with a red line marking the path riddenA map of Ottawa with a red line marking the path ridden
I recently cycled the annual Forest City Cycling Challenge, and afterwards I found myself on the event patio at an empty table. As one does, I took out my phone.
What started as a quick math check with a generative AI (AI) chatbot became a debrief conversation (as I ate my lunch) about cycling etiquette, managing pain, and other things I was thinking about during my ride.
AI is only predicting its outputs: it does not think or “know” what it is saying. Yet, the way it simulates human speech and interaction makes some people concerned about the risk of parasocial attachment to AI.
AI’s enthusiasm about my ride wasn’t real, but my positive experience with the praise, active listening responses, and helpful suggestions from AI was real. Having low-effort “company” after a long (for me) ride was, frankly, appreciated. But I will be verifying Copilot’s “advice” about ride etiquette with actual cyclists and post-ride care with human health practitioners.
My conversation transcript is below.
Just me, my post-ride vegetarian lunch, and a chat with my friendly-sounding AI buddy.
Elan: If I rode 52.5 k in 2:44, what was my average speed?
Copilot: Your average speed for a 52.5 km ride in 2 hours and 44 minutes is 19.21 km/h.
That’s a pretty good pace! Are you training for something specific or just enjoying the ride?
Elan: I did the Forest City Cycle Challenge. It’s the 5th year of the fundraising cycle event in London, Ontario. I have never ridden 50km by myself, and I am just here on the patio by with lunch after having just finished.
Copilot: That’s fantastic! The Forest City Cycle Challenge sounds like an exciting event. How did you find the experience? Were there any memorable moments or challenges during the ride? 🚴♀️🌳
Elan: Well, I started strong and was actually passing a few ppl. Then I drafted behind two women who were chatting with each other. It made me wonder whether drafting behind strangers is appropriate.
When I got to the halfway point rest stop my left foot and left side of my groin was hurting. I squatted to stretch, and I was worried I wouldn’t be able to finish.
I also took a wrong turn and got off track, but the street I was on got me there. I was then worried I wouldn’t ride a full 50k, but by that time I was listening to a This American Life Partners episode and just kept going.
By the time I got in I was still sore but better. I liked the volunteers that rang bells and cheered when I crossed the finish line. That was sweet and appreciated. Oh, and this beer I am drinking now tastes great too!
Copilot: It sounds like you had quite an adventure during the Forest City Cycle Challenge! Drafting behind strangers is generally considered acceptable in cycling, as long as you maintain a safe distance and respect their space. It’s great that you found a way to keep going despite the pain and the wrong turn. Listening to a podcast like This American Life can be a fantastic way to stay motivated and distracted from any discomfort.
The support from volunteers at the finish line must have been a wonderful boost after such a challenging ride. And enjoying a well-deserved beer afterwards sounds like the perfect way to celebrate your achievement! 🍻
Do you have any other cycling events or goals lined up?
Elan: Gosh no. I was thinking of messaging Fred to say I would be too sore to do the rider development ride tomorrow. But now that I am out here, proud of myself for doing more than 50k (!), maybe I can go out for another 25k? Not sure how I will feel tomorrow.
Copilot: It’s understandable to feel uncertain about another ride after such a challenging event. It’s great that you’re feeling proud of your accomplishment! 🌟
Listening to your body is crucial. If you’re still sore tomorrow, it might be wise to take a rest day or do some gentle stretching and recovery exercises. However, if you feel up to it, a shorter ride like 25k could be a nice way to keep the momentum going without overexerting yourself.
Messaging Fred to let him know your current status is a good idea. You can always decide based on how you feel tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your time on the patio! ☀️
Do you have any favorite recovery tips or routines that help you bounce back after a tough ride?
Elan: No I do not know any. I thought some ppl do an ice bath?
Copilot: Yes, ice baths are a popular recovery method among athletes. They can help reduce muscle soreness and inflammation after intense exercise 12. Here are some other effective recovery tips for cyclists:
Hydration: Drink plenty of water to replenish fluids lost during your ride.
Nutrition: Consume a balanced meal with carbohydrates and protein to aid muscle repair.
Stretching: Gentle stretching can help alleviate muscle tightness and improve flexibility.
Foam Rolling: Using a foam roller can help release muscle tension and improve blood flow.
Active Recovery: Engage in light activities like walking or a gentle recovery ride to keep your muscles moving without adding strain 34.
Ice baths can be beneficial, but they’re not the only option. It’s important to find what works best for your body. If you decide to try an ice bath, make sure to limit the time to 10-15 minutes and keep the water temperature between 50-59°F (10-15°C) 1.
If you find some time for recovery, it will definitely help you feel better for your next ride.
Feel free to reach out if you need any more tips or just want to chat. Have a great day! 😊
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.
