Feminist reflections on fitness, sport, and health
Author: Tracy I
Writer, feminist, vegan blogging at veganpractically.com, runner, philosopher, yogi, knitter, co-founder of Fit Is a Feminist Issue, co-author of Fit at Mid-Life: A Feminist Fitness Journey (Greystone Books, 2018). Current project: a work-in-progress book and blog on imperfect veganism (see veganpractically.com).
Close-up of a hand grasping a freshly glazed donut oozing with icing, ready to satisfy a sweet tooth craving
A year ago today, I posted a blog here about the jarring effect of seeing a very thin Brie Larson, playing the lead role in Lessons in Chemistry, preparing food that she never seemed to eat. I was not alone in trying to puzzle through the strange effect that her appearance had in relation to the show’s rich stylization of food. FIFI stats tell me that at least 5489 readers clicked the link to open that post in 2024.
The nerve that the blog touched, perhaps, is the nerve hit, repeatedly, by the horrible lessons served every day to North American women for dinner and dessert. “You should be perfectly thin. If you are perfectly thin, we will adore and praise you.” But also, “You must not be imperfectly thin. If you are imperfectly thin, scaring us with intimations of death and disease, we will shame and shun you.” Putting food near the perfectly thin celebrity reminds us of what she eats, or maybe doesn’t eat, to look the way she does. We see the food, we see the body, and the red flags appear. The imperfectly thin body, we fear, serves as the star’s understudy. It’s like the optical illusion that has us looking at a duck—no, wait, a rabbit! The mind is not quite sure what it’s perceiving. Should we clap or hold the applause?
The trouble with making all of this explicit is that drawing attention to the problem may look like blaming the victim. I see the jutting collarbones and hear the rumours and turn away out of respect for the privacy of the woman whose life is so mercilessly mined for entertainment and exploitation. She may be naturally tiny or she may be suffering. It’s none of my business. Except it is, insofar as her body elicits a visceral response, reminding me of my own vexed relation to the story it tells, or doesn’t tell.
I started thinking about Brie Larson again because I’ve been thinking, lately, about elite women runners and the price they may pay to achieve their goals. Last year, I wished them all happy holiday eating in my post. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult, for me, to ignore the problem of disordered eating and running excellence. In some ways, it’s even harder to have this conversation than it is to talk about Hollywood celebrities. There might be a world in which actors could all gain weight and continue to play characters in movies, but could women marathoners carry any weight and still be competitive? And, if we want to respect both their professionalism and their boundaries, should we not simply agree that they are born lean, mean, running machines and move on? Only, reports concerning college women athletes suggest that it’s probably not just all good nutrition and good genes, all of the time. The idea that a decade after graduation, North American runners have grown out of whatever food-related issues they might have had as young women—well, I wonder. (A brave post by Kelowna runner Christy Lovig addresses this subject head on.)
Recently, I wrote here about a marathon that went sideways. One of the stranger thoughts I had, in the final excruciating hour of that race, was that donuts were to blame for my lack-lustre performance. In the cacophony of nasty voices that I had to listen to, one was louder than the rest: “Too many donuts.” To be clear, this was not a reflection on whether my nutrition plan might have failed me—that more protein and fewer simple carbs might have made for more muscle and less fat. No, this was a moral judgement: “You are a bad person because you eat donuts and now you are being punished for it.”
I feel lucky in not having had to struggle with disordered eating since brushing up against it as a teen. But like most women I know, I carry an internal critic quick to judge and shame my appearance and the appetite that has me relishing donuts whenever I can get my hands on a good one. Most of the time, I ignore her. But when I’m sad or vulnerable, there she is, observing that I want too much, whatever that “too much” might be—wanting to run a marathon or to eat a second piece of pie. I had better prove it’s all worth it–by running a BQ every time I take on the 26.2 distance, for instance–or make myself small.
So, this holiday season, I wish everyone enjoyment of their favourite festive food. But I also wish for honest conversation, at the family table, about the damaging lessons we learned as girls about appetite; about the casual comments made by friends and family that reinforce these lessons, decades later; about the runners, including me, who work to maintain the illusions of control and self-discipline that our culture values so highly, at such great cost.
Alison Conway lives and works in Kelowna, British Columbia, on the traditional and unceded territory of the Syilx Okanagan people.
Image description: Tracy smiling, wearing sunglasses, cap covered with patterned buff for ear warmth, running jacket and top, with pathway, frost-covered grass, autumn trees, and a bench in the background.
Pre-pandemic I got an Achilles injury that I didn’t give sufficient time to heal. As a result, it took me out of consistent running for about four years and some months. So from Spring 2019 to about a month ago, my running routine ranged from zero times a week to short periods of 2-3 times a week. Even when I ran more than my regular Sundays with the group (which I can no longer keep up with pace-wise), my schedule was haphazard and sporadic, unfocused and without a sense of purpose. Indeed, running became a source of stress rather than joy, a “have-to” rather than a “want-to.” That all culminated in a not-fun 8K trail race a few weekends ago.
The aftermath of the 8K presented itself to me as a decision-point in my running career: quit or change my approach. Though I felt discouraged enough to quit, I also had to be honest with myself that I had not prepared as well as I could have. I went in knowing I could cover 8K somehow or other, but I certainly had no reason to assume I’d have a strong performance that day. For five years I have been running without goals and not even a rough sense of routine. I have picked myself up and brushed myself off many times in my life after many different set-backs. And that is what I decided to do this time. I opted for a fresh start.
I had some criteria in mind for the fresh start. First of all, I was quite clear about my initial goal: to establish a running routine where I would get out the door three to four times a week. I wanted an app that had some training plans or coached runs, but it had to be free. Not initially free with in-app purchases, but truly free. Finally, it had to be realistic and motivating at the same time. After some searching around, I landed on the Nike Run Club. Apparently, it’s been going for years, but it was new to me.
The Nike Run Club (NRC) is an app that tracks your runs, which you can do your own way or by using the guided runs in their library. I installed the app the morning after the 8K trail race, determined to start afresh, as a beginner. The app has the perfect starter set of runs with their head coach, Coach Bennett. There are no hidden costs. You can do the starter program (or not) and then move on to other coached runs or training plans designed for 5K, 10K, half marathon, or marathon distances. All told, they have 289 guided runs in the collection. You can repeat any of them whenever you want. You can bookmark the ones you like so they’re easy to find again. They vary in type — including easy runs, speed runs and fartlek, long runs (over 30 minutes), short runs (under 30 minutes), runs based on distance, and “mindful runs” that partner with Headspace.
It is, as my decision to use it required, entirely free. Unlike other apps that I’ve used, which require a subscription, or bring you in for a free trial and then require a subscription, the entire NRC library is available from the beginning for free and remains so. I like that. There are also no ads or pop-ups. Yes, the Nike branding is all over it. But so far I haven’t felt as if there is any hard-sell going on. Now maybe that just means that their marketing team is super smart in reeling people in. But I’m finding it way less in-your-face than ads and pop-ups that I’ve seen on other platforms.
I also like that it interfaces with Spotify, where I have my running playlists (there is also an option for Apple Music). When the coaching is going on, the music fades into the background. When the coaching takes a break, the music comes back up to volume. They have suggested playlists or you can use whatever you are listening to on your Spotify.
The very day after the trail race, I got started with the First Run in the Get Started Collection of 9 runs: First Run, Next Run, First Speed Run, First Long Run, Next Speed Run, Third Run, First Fartlek Run, Next Long Run, Easy Run with Jes. Other than “Easy Run with Jes,” all of these are coached by Coach Bennett, the Nike Run Club Global Head Coach. He’s a light-hearted guy who is extremely motivating and I think he’s just great. I have done every one of those runs in the starter group, plus a few more. He has successfully inspired me in just one short month (the trail race was back on September 28) to get out there regularly, 3-4 times a week.
The First Run and the Next Run are 20 minutes and 22 minutes, respectively, and the whole point of them is to go easy. Really easy. Easier than you think you should go. He coaches for continuous running, and I didn’t think I could do it. But the day after my slog of an 8K trail race, I ran 20 minutes continuously. Yes, the pace was slow and the effort was easy. But that is how it was meant to be. The run was coached as a recovery run, with the goal of an enjoyable run at an easy pace. I did it and amazed myself enough to feel, for the first time in years, like I couldn’t wait to get back out there for my next run.
The same thing happened after the 22 minute run. Continuous running at an easy and enjoyable pace, with Coach Bennett along the way explaining that it’s okay to run easy, and also that we won’t always be running easy. I like the NRC approach, which is that running should be fun, not dreaded. I can also relate to what he says about the reason many runners don’t enjoy running is that they go out too fast and then can’t keep up with the pace they’ve set. That feels like a set-back. Instead, these runs are coached to go out slow.
The speed runs also include easy warm-ups followed by intervals at different effort levels, with a recovery pace in between. For example, the First Speed Run has a short warm-up at about a 3/10 effort, followed by 8×1 minute intervals at your “5K effort,” which is about a 7-8/10. I’m sure I’m still struggling to find my 5K effort and pace, but it was fun to push the pace, knowing it was only for a minute at a time and that a minute of easy running (not walking) would follow.
The long runs also start off easy and stay at a pretty relaxed effort, but they do pick up a bit. What I like is the whole idea of easing into a rhythm and stride, rather than flying out of the gate when my body isn’t warmed up yet. On Sunday I did 50 minutes of continuous running without taking a walk break, covering about 6.5K. It’s not my fastest ever, but it felt great. Most of all, I feel excited to get back out there next time for some speed work.
The message that is repeated a lot through these coached runs is that each run has a purpose. Easy runs are for running easy for recovery and enjoyment. Long runs are for building endurance (among other things). Speed work is for, obviously, building speed and becoming familiar with your different “gears.” And tempo runs are for sustaining a faster pace, not race pace but faster than a long run, over a set distance. I like that approach a lot because, as I said, my running was feeling aimless and without purpose before. I would just go out there and aim to cover the ground without any intentionality about pace or the point of it all. I have really appreciated the message that if you are running — especially in a long run or an easy run — at a pace where you can’t sustain it without stopping or feeling like you need to take a walk break, then you’re pushing too hard.
I learned in the Running Room system of 10-1 intervals (10 minutes of running followed by 1 minute of walking). I used to really look forward for the walk breaks. But I am much more enjoying running in a way that I don’t feel the need for a walk break. I can find my rhythm and not interrupt it. And over the course of the month my pace for the same effort is picking up.
So far the hardest coached run that I’ve done is the one called “Funky Fartlek,” where you aren’t told before a speed interval how long it will last. That one involved some intervals at efforts of 7, 8, and 9 out of ten. And I couldn’t sustain all the intervals without slowing down. I needed a couple of walk breaks that time. But that’s okay. I did it and it felt challenging. I’m starting to get a feel for my different gears. And mostly I am learning that except for my 9-effort, I can recover with a slower run interval instead of a walk interval.
The NRC approach won’t work for everyone but it is definitely working for me. Not everyone is going to want to do coached running. And if you do, not everyone will like Coach Bennett’s style (light and a bit cheesy, but overall likeable and motivating). There are of course other coaches, and I am sure I will encounter them eventually. I enjoyed the easy run with Jes. Finally, not everyone is going to like being encouraged to go easy on easy runs. I remember back when I was training for triathlon, I read a book called Run Less, Run Faster, by Bill Pierce, Scott Muir, and Ray Moss, and they said two things that really hit home.
The first thing they said that I had not heard before was that most runners do their distance runs at too hard an effort and too fast a pace. Until I read that I thought that it made sense to go out for Sunday long runs at the fastest pace I could sustain for the distance or time (assuming 10-1 intervals). If I was going to hold back at all, it was because unless I held back I wouldn’t make it to the end. I stuck with that mindset because that was what everyone else seemed to be doing. And especially when I was running with people, I had to do that to keep up.
The second thing they said was that every run should have a specific training purpose. According to their program, speed intervals (on a track), tempo runs, and long runs were the magic three. Their program, for anyone interested, is those three runs plus two cross-training cardio sessions a week.
At the time, when I first picked up the book, it didn’t motivate me. Looking back, I think it’s because, though the ideas of running with purpose and holding back effort on the long run were new and different, the book was really focused on performance. And of course it was — it was aimed at an audience of people who wanted to improve their times. Nothing fun about it.
What motivates me about the NRC is that it is aimed at an audience of people who want to enjoy running. They really encourage finding the fun in it. Maybe for the first time or maybe again. I’m happy to have discovered it because I have not enjoyed running at any point in my life as much as I have in the past month. I needed a fresh approach and that’s part of why I’m enjoying myself.
An out-of-town friend who also wanted to ease back into running jumped into the NRC with me a month ago and we motivate each other by checking in after each run. That too has helped me keep going. I’m enjoying the mutual encouragement and sense of accomplishment. It’s fun to share the joy.
That’s my story of a fresh start with a new approach. I went it as a beginner, taking up the “get started” program as if I was learning everything for the first time. I’m not sure if it will get me to a pace that I will once again be able to keep up with my running group. I guess we’ll see. Right now, I’m having fun, feeling excited about my running, and seeing some progress.
If you have a fresh start story I’d love to hear about it in the comments!
Image description: three-photo collage with the heading “Howing Ghost Trail Run, Aylmer ON, September 28, 2024,” from left to right: left is a group shot of five smiling runners pre-race (Julie, Ed, Pat, Anita, Tracy), with trees in the background; middle is a selfie of a smiling older woman (Tracy) in a pink tank, black ballcap, and trail in the background; right is a post race selfie of four smiling runners (Tracy, Ed, and Pat in back, Julie in front) all wearing t-shirts that say Howling Ghost Trail Race on them.
My favourite month is September, and it’s not just because it’s my birthday month. I love it for the perfect weather and the changing palette of nature. Cool mornings, less intense sun even in the middle of the day, hints of red and orange starting to show among the greenery. What better time of year for trail running than the early fall!
So that’s how I let peer pressure push me into an 8K trail race after I said I was done with official running events. I call it a race, but with my current 8K time being slower than my 10K used to be, it’s just an outing, on a trail, with 140 other people, followed by lunch. Here’s how it went.
First of all, though the title of my post refers to “joy,” there was little of that for me during the run. I mean, it’s always enjoyable to be with my running crew, and five of us made it out that day. It’s fun to get out of town, even if it’s just a little bit out of town. The Howling Ghost Trail Race was in Aylmer, at the Springwater Conservation Area.
We’ve been having brilliant weather lately, but of course leading up to race day the forecast probability of precipitation increased from 40% to 60% and finally settled at 80% for the time that we were scheduled to run. I fully expected to be running at least part of the trail in the pouring rain, which would have also meant navigating mud. To my great surprise, the rain held off. The prospect of it hung heavily in the air throughout, making it a muggy outing through the woods. Thank you Julie for remembering bug spray.
I had no race strategy other than, ridiculously, I had planned to do 10-1 run-walk intervals. I say “ridiculously” because I have been working my way up to 10-1 run-walk intervals gradually for the past months and I have not trained consistently enough for any length of time to actually get there. Throwing, “don’t change anything on game day” out the window, I set myself up to fail. Other than an unrealistic race strategy, which I gave up on before the first 10 minutes was up, I have one rule and one rule only that I apply when training, out for a leisure run, or doing an event: run, don’t walk, up the hills. At every hill I reminded myself of that, a rule that I cling to when everything else feels like it’s falling apart. I stuck to it almost entirely, except for one part towards the end where there was a hill, a slight levelling, and the MORE HILL. At the MORE HILL, I said “nope.”
The poorly chosen unreasonable 10-1 strategy was a mistake because it created a mental battle. It is a very bad idea to have a goal that is not realistic because, for me, it puts me in a “falling short” mindset instead of a “killing it!” mindset. If I had stuck with 6-1 intervals I would likely have had a better race. What made it so miserable? I simply could not keep my heart rate in a reasonable range. I was in the red zone every time I checked my heart rate. That meant that I had to pull back to a walk in order to try to recover. And since it was an event, I didn’t give myself enough time to properly recover. The result: an uncomfortable 8K where I felt out of my element, old (I had just turned 60 a few days before), and out of shape.
I came in 61/68 running the 8K, with a time of 1:08:59. I have run much faster 10Ks. Overall, the race was hard and I felt discouraged by it. Still and all, I covered the ground, so that’s something. On a positive note, the event had a great vibe and the folks at Persistence Racing plotted out a well-marked course on a relatively easy wooded trail, nicely groomed, with few hills. I would love to go back some time this fall when the leaves are changing.
Last week Sam referenced a 2020 post she wrote about aging and keeping up your speed. Even though I commented on Sam’s older post that my objective these days is just to get out there, I would be lying if I said my time didn’t sting a bit. I’ve never been fast, but I’ve also never been slower than I am now. Resounding in my head are the words from Sam’s 2020 post: “Older athletes get slower and less strong, not because they’re older, but rather because they train less than younger athletes.”
I am definitely training less than I did when I was 50. That’s why I couldn’t keep my heart rate under control. It has nothing to do with my age and everything to do with how I prepared (or did not adequately prepare) for the 8K trail event.
As a result of all of this, I have embarked on a plan to actually recapture some joy in my fall running, whether on trails or not. That plan includes some coached runs using the (free) Nike Run Club app. So far, the two runs I’ve done from the app (“First Run” and “Next Run”) have helped me connect with how good it feels to run with ease. I like the approach of setting out to run with a purpose, even if that purpose is a slow recovery run where you are not pushing too hard.
I’ll report back about the NRC experience in a month or so. Meanwhile, if you get a chance to enjoy some autumn weather out on the trails, go for it!
Image description: Black and white photo of Tracy, short-hair, wearing wide jeans, sneakers, a black jacket and sunglasses, with a camera and a bag slung across her body, walking along a walled pier with a cargo ship in the background. Photo credit: Roben Bellamo
Back in January I wrote a post about how approaching 60 feels different from approaching 50. I breezed into 50 feeling strong, energetic, and at peace. On my 50th birthday, I wrote about beautiful September days where everything felt perfect and effortless. I had pushed myself into my 50s, with what, in retrospect, seems like a punishing training schedule to prepare me for two Olympic distance triathlons that season. But at the time it didn’t feel punishing. It felt invigorating and exhilarating. At that time of life, training hard clearly agreed with me.
Things have changed since then. Today it’s more about sustainable routines that can take me through the next decade(s) without injuries. I’m back to yoga, resistance training, walking, and some very light (read: slow) running. These are all things I still enjoy and that make me feel energized and strong. I almost never sign up for events anymore, though I do succumb to peer pressure once in awhile, especially if I like the t-shirt. Hence an 8K trail race next weekend (The Howling Ghost Trail Run) with my running group.
I’m not really in the mood to have a big decade birthday this year. It’s not that I object to turning 60. I just don’t feel like having a great big party to mark the occasion. And it’s not that I’m doing nothing at all — I have a couple of upcoming celebratory meals at my favourite restaurant. Today it’s lunch with Samantha and our friend Rob, for our annual get-together in honour of our birthdays, all in 1964 within the same 25-day span. Then on my actual birthday early next week I’m going back there to have dinner with a few friends. That day will include cake. Sometime this fall there will probably be a spa getaway to St. Anne’s with another longtime friend whose birthday falls within two weeks of mine.
We don’t get to plan when we’ll be in a mood for a big party and when we won’t. And if I’ve landed anywhere at almost-60, it’s at a place where I do what I want, not necessarily what’s expected. I’m feeling more confident about my choices these days, and deciding not to have a party despite this being a “special” birthday reflects that confidence.
When we first started blogging back in 2012, Sam started a thing where she would post “Six things” about whatever. I revived that on her recent 60th, and I’m going to end my own “60 is coming” post with six things I feel good about as I get really close to 60:
No longer experiencing the need to explain myself or my choices to people.
Physically, I can still push myself but I don’t push terribly hard anymore. I’m happy with my chosen activities and I take lots of rest that I don’t feel guilty about taking.
Instead of acquiring more stuff, I’ve turned my attention to getting rid of stuff.
Great relationships with family, partner, and friends. I’ve got excellent, supportive, loving people in my life and I feel incredibly fortunate about that.
My cats, daily meditation, photography, and my vegan blog.
The future looks bright as I look ahead to retiring in the not-too distant future and building a life in a new city with my partner. We are poised for the next adventure!
All this to say that though I’m not in a party mood, I’m quite chill about the upcoming BIG birthday.
Back when Sam and I started the blog in 2012, two years prior to our 50th birthdays, we had the modest objective of tracking our road to 50, with the goal of being the fittest we’d ever been in our lives by the time we got there. We expected it to be a two-year project. We thought we would wind down the blog when we turned 50. And here we are, 12 years later.
As anyone who has been following the blog for awhile knows, Sam is prolific. I’m always in awe of how she comes up with things to write about, week-in, week-out. One of her signature approaches when we started was to write “six-things” posts. For example, “Six Things I Love about Aikido and Six Things I Struggle with” from the second month of the blog. The longevity of the approach has proven itself. See her “Six Things Sam Wants to Blog about.”
Sam is also a big fan of gratitude, and so am I. So here are my Six Things that Make Me Grateful for Samantha in My Life:
We are like-minded in so many ways, but just different enough that I keep on learning from her. When I say we are like-minded, it is hard to capture the extent to which this is true. From our philosophical sensibilities to our basic sense of academic values, from our commitment to family to our appreciation of a good sleep…more often than not I don’t have to explain myself to Sam because she already gets it.
Picking up on this, we have an ongoing conversation that we pick up and drop and pick up again, about little things and important things. It started about 31 years ago and has never stopped. Without that conversation, we would not have landed on the blog idea, the fittest by 50 challenge idea, or the Fit at Mid-Life book idea. I am grateful for the ongoing conversation and the many years of friendship that has made it possible.
Her energy for keeping the momentum of the blog going for so long. I am so grateful to have been a part of the co-founding of this wonderful community. But it’s obvious that Sam is the main driver behind the blog’s success. Because of her efforts, we have an amazing group of regular bloggers, many subscribers on various social media platforms, and have built something that we can all truly be proud to be a part of.
The opportunity to co-author with her. I have never in my life enjoyed any writing project as much as I enjoyed writing Fit at Mid-Life with Sam. We spent a few days at the Banff Centre together to write the proposal. And while writing the book, we literally used our writing sessions as breaks from work. We went to an on-campus lounge, opened up our laptops to the shared google document, and wrote together.
Her patience, care, optimism, and sense of adventure and fun, all of which combined to get me to try triathlon, to learn how to ride a road bike with clipless pedals, and formulate my fittest by 50 goal of completing an Olympic distance triathlon (I did two!).
She is practical and has integrity. It isn’t easy to be a dean, and it wasn’t easy to be a department chair. Sam does lots of things that are not super easy, and I’ve learned a lot from watching her do them.
I should add a bonus thing, which is that because of the blog and the book and our friendship, one of my favourite photo shoots ever was the one Sam and I did together with Ruth Kivilathi. It yielded some amazing photos that always lift my spirits when I look at them. So I’ll end with that. Photo credit in all the photos below goes to Ruth.
Looking forward to Sam’s party this afternoon — another talent of hers is bringing people together!
Image desciption: Collage arrangment of four photos of Sam and Tracy. Top left: Tracy leaning on Sam’s shoulder, Sam on her bike, both wearing sunglasses, slight smiles. Top right: Sam and Tracy talking to each other, white background, room divider in the background. Bottom left: Low angle shot of Tracy and Sam in an urban setting, Sam on her bike. Bottom right: Sam with bike and Tracy sitting on a ledge in front of an industrial, red brick building. Photo credit: Ruth Kivilahti.
Image description: abstract photo of a bridge railing in a diamond patter, captured using ICM (intentional camera movement) to create blur. Photo by Tracy Isaacs
CONTENT WARNING: this post talks about Weight Watchers and medications used for weight loss.
We have been dissing Weight Watchers here for a long time, from Sam’s “I hate you, Weight Watchers” post more than a decade ago to my “Oprah: Eating Bread, Making Bread,” when Oprah took shares in the company and joined the board in 2016. It’s a business. Businesses are interested in making money. Oprah is a brand unto herself. She too is interested in making money.
The culture of weight loss and diet has a well-entrenched stronghold still today, but the oppositional voices are getting louder. Many of us here at the blog are fans of the Maintenance Phase podcast and host Aubrey Gordon’s book about weight loss myths. We’ve read Kate Manne’s Unshrinking and written about it. And we’ve consistently talked about body image, body acceptance, anti-diet perspectives, the disentangling of size and health, rejection of body-shaming — too many posts to count.
And so it was with interest and not a little bit of suspicion and skepticism that I tuned in to the Oprah/Weight Watchers YouTube livestream “event” the other day to find out what new message WW could possibly be peddling under the title: “Making the Shift: A New Way to Think about Weight.” Could they finally, finally be changing to a new narrative that, despite their brand, is NOT about weight loss?
We have been here before, where they have gone from “Weight Watchers” to “WW,” and where they have gone from “dieting” to “lifestyle” and “healthy habits.” None of these shifts has been enough to change their game entirely. I mean, in the end their users are joining to lose weight. What, I wondered, are they up to now?
The event started off inspiring confidence that maybe, just maybe, real change is afoot. Oprah, in her “girlfriend” way, started with a story of total humiliation during her first appearance on the Tonight Show in 1985, when Joan Rivers asked her how she gained “the weight” and had her promising to lose 15 pounds by the end of the show (after which she gained 25). She lamented her contribution to narratives of “weight loss success” over the years, including pushing liquid diets as a path to weight loss. She claimed that one of her career lowpoints, about which she is filled with regret, is that time she rolled a cart of fat equalling in weight the fat she’d lost, onto her stage.
But in her preamble, right after she told her stories, she identified obesity as a “disease” for which no one should carry shame. We should all, she said, love our bodies. She listed of a range of possible ways to go, none of which anyone is obligated to pursue. You do not deserve to be shamed, she said, “whether you choose to start moving more, whether you want to eat differently, whether you want to change your lifestyle, whether you want to take the medications, or whether you choose to do absolutely nothing.” To be satisfied the way you are, where you are, is totally “up to you.” Then the CEO of Weight Watchers, Sima Sistani, came on and apologized for her company’s contribution to diet culture and the harm it has caused to the people who did not reach their goals on their program.
This “event” is part of a series of media moments paving the way for Weight Watchers to start promoting the use of weight loss medications. This is not brand new news, but it was news to me. And I have to say, if you had asked me to predict that “we should all love ourselves without shame” would end up at “and if that includes taking medications to lose weight so you can conform to the cultural standard for acceptable bodies,” I would not have landed there.
With the diet/points program failing to help people achieve long-term weight loss (because diets don’t work), it had two choices: become irrelevant or start encouraging people to take medication. I’ve had it pointed out to me that in some ways this strategy is more on point with the truth of what is required for successful weight loss. And that may be the case.
What I find most egregious about the live-stream is the mixed messaging. I have never thought that the only reason diet culture is harmful is that it’s almost impossible to lose weight and keep it off. That is a harm, to be sure, if people are going to continue to chase an unattainable goal and support the industry that promotes it. But I continue to think that more serious harm is that it reinforces the idea that the only acceptable body type is slimmer. Whether through diet or exercise or medication, weight loss is still the goal. Are we resigned to maintaining this picture and keeping weight loss as a life goal?
This tweak to the weight loss narrative adds a further layer of personal responsibility onto a problem of cultural harm. Keep in mind too that the drugs work by making it easier to consume fewer calories. So in the end, they reinforce the connection between calorie intake and weight gain or loss, thus offering credence to the view that dieting would work but for the dieter eating more than they “should.”
If we could rewrite that conversation with Oprah and Joan Rivers, the gist of it would still be that Oprah should lose the weight, and if that means taking the meds, then take the meds. But is it not more concerning still, is it not, that Joan Rivers felt she had the right to call out Oprah’s size (at all, nevermind so publicly on national television)? Of course Oprah has now very publicly affirmed her use of the new weight loss drugs, like Ozempic, for the purposes of weight loss. And these have now been built into Weight Watchers’ business plan.
It’s tricky of course. No one wants to say we don’t have choices, and that if people opt for a certain choice that’s their business. But there is a tension in broadening the range of pathways to body-acceptance to include new forms of weight loss. It falls into the same category of tension, I think, as anti-aging cosmetic procedures like fillers and surgeries. The more people opt for these “treatments,” the more the prizing of youthful appearance and the rejection of aging faces and bodies remains the normative standard. Does that mean these things shouldn’t be available as options? No. But does it mean that there would be less harm and more opportunity for a healthier and more realistic range, if fewer people chose them. And it would be better if we didn’t feel that normative pressure so strongly. But it’s tough to be an outlier and it takes energy, effort, and awareness to reject the messaging.
To me Oprah + Weight Watchers + weight loss meds is a scary trifecta. The mixed messages have hit a new low. Their contribution to the fear of being fat has not stopped. It has simply evolved with the times to generate a new and profitable income-stream.
Photo description: Tracy and Sam side-by-side with Tracy’s elbow on Sam’s shoulder, Sam on her bicycle, both smiling and wearing sunglasses, street and building in the background. Photo credit: Ruth Kivilahti
Lately, lots of memories have been showing up on my various feeds that take me back to 2018 when Sam and I launched our book, Fit at Mid-Life: A Feminist Fitness Journey. It was a heady time, where we felt constantly amazed at what we had done with the blog and then the book. Writing can be hard, but we marvelled at how almost-effortless it felt to write the book because we did it together.
In 2023 I decided not to buy any clothing, accessories, footwear, or photography equipment for the year. I integrated my word-of-the-year for 2023 “thrift,” into that project as a way of increasing my focus and resolve. Now, more than midway through February 2024, I have incorporated no-buy in these categories so throughly into my life that I didn’t even think about giving a report about how it went until a friend asked me the other day if I planned to write one. Julie, this is for you.
I’m not the first person from the Fit Is a Feminist Issue bloggers to do this. We all took our inspiration from Mina, who did it back in 2018 and then blogged about buying new running gear early into 2019. Sam, Catherine, Martha, and Diane have all embarked on the Buy-Nothing Challenge and blogged about it at various junctures.
Overall, I got more out of this year than I expected to, and not just the obvious thing of saving money. It’s almost embarrassing now to think back on a time when shopping was something that had such a presence in my life that I felt the need explicitly to put the brakes on it for a year. Who was that person? I neither miss her nor aspire ever to be like her again. The casual expression of privilege through mindless shopping for things in excess of what I need to support the life I intentionally choose to live actually now makes me cringe.
As noted in our word-of-the-year update post back in May 2023, I chose my no-buy categories for a reason: “These things all made the list because they are things I tend to spend way beyond my needs on them. There is simply no need to browse the clothing every time I go to Costco, to buy earrings every time I travel, or to keep adding to my camera kit when I already have more equipment — and it’s good equipment — than I regularly use.”
My deliberate no-buy initiative has been over for almost two months and so far I have made two purchases in the restricted categories: a five-pack of underwear and a new pair of pajamas.
The year was seriously beneficial to my overall sense of well-being and contentment. Here are some reflections on how it changed me:
It got me into a “glass half full” mindset really quickly. As soon as actual shopping was no longer an option, I turned to “shopping in my closet” to see what had been languishing in its dark corners, squeezed between other things, for years without being worn. It may sound cliché, but instead of dwelling on what I couldn’t have (new things!), I began to appreciate the things I do have. There is not one single occasion in 2024 where I couldn’t find sufficient choice among what I already had in my closet. This attitude has extended into other areas of my life, making me see the things I have differently.
It fuelled my motivation to get rid of things. Not only did I have sufficient choice in the clothing department, I soon came to see that I had very many things that I would never wear again. I made a first pass through the closet pretty early on and put the obvious contenders aside for donation. I gathered up a bunch of shoes and offered first choice to a friend who takes the same size. She went home with ten pairs of shoes and boots. I still have too many. If 2023’s no-buy project was about awareness, 2024 is about action. Right now I am doing Project 333 and it’s another step in gaining a sense of what I truly need. I am also working my way through Joshua Becker’s The Minimalist Home, room by room (to me, it’s way more approachable than Maria Kondo’s method). I expect that by the end of the closets chapter about 60% of what’s still hanging in mine will be gone.
It freed me up to do other things. I don’t know how much time I spent browsing (physically and online) for things I didn’t need, but between the literal time saved and the mental energy of knowing that “I’m not shopping so why browse?” I have felt much more available to other things. I started a new blog on veganism, I am writing most mornings, and I have lately rediscovered my love of weight training.
When I do buy something, I am more deliberate about my purchase. This is not just with the things that were on the restricted list, but with everything I buy now. I think carefully about whether I need it. I consider realistically how much use I will get out of it and whether there is anything I already have that would serve me just as well. Last week the purse I’d been using all year was looking pretty ratty. Instead of buying a new one I remembered I have a like-new purse in my closet. I swapped the like-new in for the ready-to-be-retired bag and I’m all set now for probably another year. The questions about need are sincere questions, and a possible outcome is that I will in fact get something new. But it will be a well-considered purchase.
I learned something from my lapses. I had three departures from my no-buy commitment in 2023.
First: In the late summer I decided I needed a smaller camera bag for day-trips. Since I take photography seriously, I wanted a decent bag. I went with the 21-litre version of my excellent 31-litre WANDRD PRVKE bag. It turned out not to be a great purchase. It’s a fine bag, but it’s still quite large — larger than what you want for a day trip. And it was a huge splurge. And for it to function well as a bag for photo gear, you need the camera cube that fits inside. The one for my 31-litre bag didn’t fit. So I ended up buying a new cube. I have used the backpack with cube exactly NEVER. Regrets? Yes, but I’m hoping to give it an honest try on a short trip I’m taking to Newfoundland in June.
Second: Also related to photography, I have long been wanting a 70-200mm lens. But I was holding off because I have also been going back and forth on whether to switch from a DSLR to a mirrorless camera. Mirrorless is really the future of digital photography. But the switch is expensive. Partly as a result of my no-buy year, I came to appreciate my DSLR system and made a decision to stick with it for at least the next few years. That decision made me think, “so I should get that 70-200mm f/2.8 I’ve been thinking about.” With my birthday coming up in September, I went for it. Regrets? Not really. It’s an incredible lens and takes outstanding photos. I used it to take the photo illustrating this post. And in the overall scheme of things, the larger decision about sticking with the DSLR for the next few years justifies the purchase.
Third: New running shoes. But that’s something that was going to be inevitable from the get-go. When the practitioner I consulted about some ongoing foot problems recommended a different style of running shoe, it felt wise to follow the advice. Regrets: No.
I’m not as attached to “things” as I used to be. Not only am I not as attached, I have actually developed an aversion to things that I don’t need or appreciate for their aesthetic qualities. Maybe there are other categories of things, like those to which I have a sentimental attachment, but mostly if I don’t need it or like the look or feel of it, I don’t want it around. It took the whole year to solidify this idea in my head, and as I said I’m not yet acting on it all the time with respect to the things I already have. But my desire to acquire new things that I can’t use is pretty much non-existent at this point. I have more than enough art for my available wall-space, some of it not hanging. I am also aware that there are some artworks and decorative things in my place that I don’t really like. Some came to me as gifts that I have felt obligated to keep, even display, for fear of affronting someone. I like Joshua Becker’s observation that we tend to attribute extra value to things simply because we own them, irrespective of how they actually fit into our life.
It’s helped me a lot with FOMO in all areas. I used to be as susceptible as anyone to FOMO — fear of missing out. I think this prompted some of my shopping, where I would think that not purchasing something that I like would be a missed opportunity never to return. This feeling was especially acute when travelling because it might often literally be the case that I will never come across those particular earrings or whatever again. I had FOMO too about experiences others were having or events others were attending. Like this week, for example, a lot of the philosophers are in New Orleans for the APA. Months back I was invited to be part of a panel that would have had me attend as well. I thought ahead to what it might feel like to have to travel in February, with variables like the weather and my workload undetermined. At the time it felt like possible stress I don’t need. As it turns out, the weather is fine. But I’m glad I didn’t commit to having to write something that isn’t what I want to write and that would have taken me away from the writing projects I actually care about, just so I could go to New Orleans. Even though the gathering of friends from all over the place in a fun city tugs at me a bit, I’m happy I didn’t let FOMO motivate a commitment that doesn’t align well with my current goals.
Not buying things has become a habit and I plan to keep it. As you can tell from what I’ve said already, I’m really feeling energized and lighter as a result of my year of not buying things in my three “problem categories.” I think of the year more as a reset than as a deprivation. I honestly didn’t feel as if I was fighting against any urges or anything through the year. Instead, I experienced it as a kind of freedom because, once it was decided that those things were off the table, for the most part I just followed the guidance. Now maybe that says that I chose just the right time to embark on this challenge, such that it hardly presented itself as a challenge at all. It did redirect my attention in a positive way though. And having done it deliberately for a year, I’ve established it as a habit that suits me well.
Upshot: it was a good year. It helped me gain a foothold on who I am and what makes me happy. I’m not working my way down to one bowl and one spoon or anything like that. But 2023 has positioned me well for 2024, which is going to take it one step further, into actively shedding, discarding, and letting go of things.
I don’t call my January efforts “resolutions.” But I do have a sense of January as a fresh page, full of possibility. And I work that sense to my advantage, feeling newly motivated on January 1st when it comes to starting new routines. Shortly into December I embarked on a 10-week commitment to Caroline Girvan’s first EPIC program.
When I last blogged about it I was just into week three and feeling enthusiastic enough to pack some dumbbells so I could continue the program through the holidays at my parents’ house. At five workouts a week, the EPIC program is not what I would call a small commitment. Most of the workouts are 45-60 minutes, with a shorter (30-minute) HIIT on Sundays. The schedule of workouts every Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday for ten weeks establishes an intensive enough routine for anyone who is sticking to it (as I have been).
Image description: EPIC schedule, a grid with ten weeks, seven days each week, each day with a short description of the workout (e.g. dumbbell full body). Stickers with check marks are on the completed workouts.
I got a little bit nervous as January approached because I always do Yoga with Adriene in January. For anyone unfamiliar with Adriene, every January she does a full month of new content for 30 days. Each day builds on the one before, and it is truly something wonderful. This year, I signed up for her FLOW series, not without a little trepidation about how I was going to fit in five EPIC workouts a week and daily YWA. I got to ease into it with a slightly longer holiday break this year that gave me quite a bit of freedom through the first week of January.
My morning routine starts with the cats (feeding them then playing for a bit), then meditation, then 15 minutes of writing, then yoga. If I can get that all in before breakfast, I’m a happy lark. I put the EPIC workouts later in the day, either right before lunch or right before dinner. As it turns out, this schedule sustained me through the entire month of January, even after work started. Even during weeks where I had an endless list of things to do. After a period of time, instead of trying to firgure out how to fit my workouts into my day, I structured my days around my workouts. It’s a subtle difference but it makes a difference.
The only day I forgot to do yoga was last Saturday when I was so fixated on the vegan potluck at Sam’s that I literally didn’t think of yoga (to be fair, I did do the one-hour EPIC workout that had been scheduled for the Friday but I was too exhausted to do on Friday. That change probably contributed to me forgetting to do the yoga later as much as the donuts).
Image description: Portion of a 30 day calendar that says “FLOW A 30 DAY YOGA JOURNEY” and “JANUARY 2024” at the top and has each day, the name of the session, and the time (e.g. Day 2, NOTICE, 22 mins). Checkmarks for each completed day.
For EPIC, I add a green sticker every time I finish a workout. Watching the stickers add up over the past eight and a half weeks has kept me going on days when I didn’t feel like it. It also helped me know where I was if I took an extra rest day. I modified the weeks a few times, taking rest on Wednesday instead of Thursday, or on Friday instead of Saturday.
Considering just how unmotivated I was until mid-December, it is truly remarkable to me how easily I managed to establish and stick to my routine. Sometimes it’s just a matter of timing. If I truly feel as if “enough’s enough!” I can pull myself out of my malaise for an enthusiastic few days. But what’s challenging is the long game. This time, between choosing well (I love both programs), printing out the schedules, marking off completed workouts, and also making a solid commitment, I stuck it out.
That said, I took a day off yoga on Thursday, and I think I will take a week of rest after I finish EPIC and before I begin the next round of ten-weeks: EPIC II. I don’t see a short break in routine as a problem–but I am finding great satisfaction in the momentum I’ve built up.
My next challenge will be to get walking and eventually running again three times a week. I haven’t found the winter weather to be particularly inspiring this year, though as a Canadian I know well that if I dress for it I always feel good once I’m out there.
How did your January routines go? Will they sustain you through another month (or two?)?
Most of my blogging these days is over at my solo-venture, Vegan Practically. And occasionally I write something there that may be of interest to readers here too. Such was the case this week when I posted about a recent study that indicates that protein, especially plant-based protein, helps women with “healthy” aging. In my post I say more about why I don’t often focus on the health arguments for plant-based eating and I also express some possible concerns we might have about the concept of “healthy” aging. But the study does offer a further argument for incorporating more plant-based protein into our food choices, and that’s a great thing!
I hope you this makes you want to read more! If so, please follow the link to this post, and I encourage you to explore the blog further while you’re there 🙂
