In a recent chat Tracy reminded me that the bike rally was my main fittest by fifty challenge. That’s along with getting stronger, thanks CrossFit, and trying something new, thanks rowing.
“Fittest by fifty”is the challenge that started the blog (now coming up on 10 years ago) and the book Fit at Midlife: A Feminist Fitness Journey.
Tracy said she was impressed that I could still do the thing that was my challenge as we approached the big 5-0.
After all, we’re both turning 58 this summer.
At first I kind of dismissed the praise. I’m a road cyclist, adding distance isn’t a big deal really. But then I recognized that dismissal of a thing I’d achieved as a thing lots of women do, and had second thoughts.
It is remarkable.
What’s remarkable is that through the pandemic and through the first few years of my very demanding job, I’d kept that distance up. It was a remarkable thing to do at 50 and it’s still remarkable that I can do it.
I can still do it because I kept doing it.
We did our big Newfoundland cycling adventure. We went riding in Florida twice and in Illinois once. We did the Simcoe County Loop Trail and lots of bits and pieces of the Guelph to Goderich trail.
When it wasn’t possible to ride outside on road bikes we played in the snow on our fat bikes and we Zwifted. So much Zwifting.
So against my instincts I’m not going to dismiss it. I’m going to say “Yay me.”
So this month I both rode my bike in the Friends for Life Bike Rally and I’m having total knee replacement surgery.
I didn’t plan it this way at all–I signed up for the bike rally a long time ago and I just got the call about knee surgery a few weeks ago.
I’ve been amused at the variety of reaction I’ve gotten for this and I have some thoughts of my own.
My favorite reaction was from the massage therapist at the rally. She laughed when I told her my knee was sore but not from riding. It’s just always sore. We focused on my back and ignored the knee. “You don’t owe that knee anything, ” she said. “It’s nice that you don’t have to baby it through the bike rally. You’re just going to finish the rally and then say goodbye to it.”
My regular everyday ongoing knee physio people are impressed. They talk about the important of strengthening the muscles around the knee prior to surgery and that riding a bike is a good way to do that. We never waste time in physio sessions bike riding since I also ride my bike to get there. They’re keen to get me back at physio within days of surgery. Currently surgery is Monday and my first physio appointment is Friday. But I won’t be biking there that time. Or driving either. My mother likely will be taking me.
Lots of friends are confused about my ability to ride my bike so far. “But I thought you were having knee replacement surgery?” Yes. But it’s never been about riding my bike. It’s that once I get off the bike I can barely walk around the block and I can’t stand for very long. That’s true even if I don’t ride my bike at all. My knee actually feels better when I’ve ridden my bike.
For a few years now I’ve come to rely on cycling. Sometimes I ride around campus. I travel with my folding bike so I can get around a new place without walking. At first it was a matter of giving up on other athletic activities–soccer, running, Aikido etc. But lately it’s been a matter of giving up more everyday stuff. For example, I wait in the car while Sarah goes grocery shopping. Cheddar just gets short walks around the block. And I carefully plan my trips up and down the stairs.
The bike rally was a good example of how limited my life is outside of cycling. Yes, I could ride my bike 110 km each day. But once I got to camp I needed Sarah to put up the tent. The walking around the campsites wasn’t easy. I’m really looking forward to being able to do more, besides ride my bike, as much as I love it.
Mostly I’m looking forward to long walks, hiking, and canoe camping with long portages. But also everyday things like sleeping through the night without knee pain and being able to get groceries and put them away.
Wish me luck. Surgery on the left knee is one week! Surgery on the right is 6 months to a year after that.
I’ve written before about my one seriously arthritic toe. One! What a weirdo toe. It’s the same toe that kept losing the toe nail at even the hint of strenuous activity. It’s a toenail that sees cross country skiing in its future, turns black, and falls off. The same, of course, for running. It’s my Bad Toe, and I’ve even been prescribed toe physio for it.
I confess I haven’t been keeping up with my toe physio. And issues with my knees felt more pressing and that felt like physio enough.
Until my feet started hurting while riding my bike. Toe cramps bad enough to make me want to get off my bike. Ouch! I wear orthotics in my running shoes and in my everyday boots. But until now I thought of cycling as an activity that didn’t require orthotics. The keywords are “until now.”
So I now have orthotics for my cycling shoes, in addition to my running shoes, and they seem to help. Aging bodies and activity seem to require a bunch of extra work and resources. I’m feeling extra grateful for my benefits these days.
Cycling shoes and running shoes with socks sticking out
Mostly, these days, I don’t mourn the things my knees used to do. I’m forward looking, thinking about knee replacement and about long hikes. Also, dancing. I’m excited about having dancing in my future.
Running is a thing of the past.
Four years ago I wrote that not being able to run made me sad and I admitted that sometimes I cried about it.
Now, I am anticipating dancing. I think often about long walks. I can’t wait until I can sleep without pain. But running? Meh. I no longer cry about missing it.
Still, I’m shocked at how fast all this has happened.
A few people asked if I was doing the Pride Run this year. Nope. No more Pride Runs.
I remember getting the running reprieve from the knee surgeon when we first met. He asked how much I liked soccer and if I was okay with giving it up. I was. But running short distances fast? (Well, fast-for-me.) That could stay.
Here’s my Facebook status update from May 15, 2015, “Knee surgeon appointment was uneventful. As you might wish for with a knee surgeon. I don’t, as yet, even need any of the pre-surgical options. Keep doing physio, stay pain free, ride my bike as much as I want, keep running short distances (5 km) and revisit in a year. Bye bye soccer. But we knew that. And it’s fine to work on running 5 km faster.”
And here’s Mallory and me at the Pride Run 7 years ago.
Mal and Sam post Pride run
What’s on my list of things that I can’t do now that I hope I can do in the future?
Dancing
Hiking
Walking around new places when I travel
Backpacking and back country camping
Sleep without pain… That’s a biggie
Walking around campus all day without worrying I’m doing too much
Standing up at social events and convocation
Thanks to J Williams for making this photo available freely on @unsplash
However, I came across a Facebook group recently for OWLS! That’s Older Women in Lycra. Here’s the group’s description: “Designed to EMPOWEROWL.bike (Older Women in Lycra) made with ❤️ for women cyclists UCA age 55 and older. OWLs are changing societal messages on aging…one ride at a time!”
From the article, “Such men have acquired their own acronym, and it’s entered the language. Mamils – middle-aged men in Lycra – are a recognised demographic who are a target market for advertisers, with considerable buying power and much to enjoy spending their money on, from beautiful carbon-frame bikes to stylish cycle-wear. But the Mamil only tells half the story. There are also what I call Owls – older women in Lycra – and we enjoy all those things just as much. And if that makes us objects of satire as much as the Mamils are… then fine.
British Cycling, the sport’s umbrella organisation, confirms that women cyclists – including a significant number of older women – are rapidly on the increase. BC’s women-only Breeze Rides – its scheme to encourage women to take up cycling – have attracted more than 13,000 women since the beginning of 2015. Of these, 59 per cent are aged 35 to 54 and 29 per cent are 55-plus. In the 50 to 59 age group in last week’s Ride London 100 – the biggest sportive in Britain – an impressive 26 per cent of entrants were women. Next month no less a 51-year-old than the Countess of Wessex is taking part in a charity bike ride from Edinburgh to London. A few years ago I cycled from London to Edinburgh myself, and it’s a hell of an undertaking.”
The OWLS race on Zwift and while I can’t join them yet–they race in the afternoon spot for the TTTs–I do appreciate that they’re there.
Might also be nice to just have a mature riders group for all people, including those who don’t identify as men or women.
Hey, Western University (where I taught for 24 years before coming to U of Guelph) just asked me for a legacy gift. They did remember to call me “Professor.” I do feel old though after that email. Legacy, huh?
I’m coming up on my 58th birthday this summer, moving from my mid to late fifties.
I’ll have to be careful I don’t jump the gun too soon. Each year I start thinking about the age I’ll be soon and think about what it will feel like to be that age. The difficulty with thinking yourself at an age before you get there is that sometimes you might get to your birthday and then add a year. Yes, I did that. It took awhile before I did the math and realized I was over counting.
It’s not just reminders like the legacy gift email. I’m also thinking about my age because we’re coming up on the blog’s 10th anniversary this fall. Wow.
Tracy and I started the blog on the countdown to our 50th birthday. Remember our “fittest by fifty” challenge? But since a decade has gone by that means we’ve got 60 in our sights.
People can get weird about 60. I remember visiting a friend of my mother’s who, when the subject of her age came up, said you know the decade you’re in (my fifties) and you know the decade your mother is in (her seventies) I’m in the one in the middle but I never say its name. What’s so bad about the sixties, I wondered. I guess I’m still wondering.
Sixty doesn’t particularly scare me. I think it helps that I have lots of older friends and colleagues in their sixties, leading lives that excite and inspire. I’ve always liked older people.
I’m spending the weekend in Montreal as I’m writing this, here to visit family but also to see Sally Haslanger give a series of lectures
I mention that because Sally is in her sixties making that decade look pretty good. She’s here giving a series of lectures based on her new book about understanding social change in complex systems. I loved the final lecture on hope. I think we’re all needing some hope right about now. There were excellent commentaries too. I was there for the commentaries by Jonathan Ichikawa (University of British Columbia) and Chike Jeffers (Dalhousie University), both excellent.
There are lots of remarkable women in philosophy, far too many to list, many of them over 60.
I’m not planning on retiring for awhile yet although as Dean I’ve been noticing the wide range of ages that people choose to stop work. I’ve just expressed my willingness to stand for a second term as Dean and undergo the review, and potential reappointment, process. After that, whatever the outcome, I’ve got some leave coming to me and then I’ll likely return to teaching for a few years in Philosophy.
I’ve always thought that rather than retire immediately I’d love to swap to half time for a few years first. Teach in the fall term, winter somewhere warm sounds like the dream to me.
I joke with Tracy that we have excellent role models in aging with our mothers. We look just a little bit like them. See above.
I think the other reason I’m looking forward to my sixties is that I’ll have my knees in working order then. I realized the other day that I’ll soon be eligible to do some retirement age (if not actual retirement) activities with my mother!
I don’t think I’ll get her on a bike but with my knees fixed we could do some walking together.
There are bloggers here who have reached the 60 mark and they’re doing pretty well too. See Catherine‘s blog post about her recent birthday.
So far I’m not feeling the urge to think about 60+ as the last stage of life.
Who does? See Jane F on turning 60, for example. She calls life after 60, her final act.
“When I was about to turn 60, I realized that I was approaching my third act — my final act — and that it wasn’t a dress rehearsal. One of the things that I knew for sure is that I didn’t want to get to the end with a lot of regrets, so how I lived up until the end was what was going to determine whether or not I had regrets. And it also then dawned on me that in order to know where I was supposed to go, I had to know where I’d been,” she said.
I recently wrote a paper on women and aging, “To Grandmother’s House We Go”: On Women, Ethics, and Aging. It’s forthcoming in the Cambridge Handbook on the Ethics of Aging. I was struck by Carolyn Heilbrun’s conceptualization of the years after sixty as the last gift of time. Sixty seems a bit early for last gift talk.
The Last Gift of Time: Life Beyond Sixty
To be clear, it’s not that I don’t take mortality seriously. I’ve taught a course on death. I’ve coedited a textbook on philosophy and death. It’s more that I’ve been thinking about it for years.
Philosophy and Death, edited by Samantha Brennan and Robert Stainton
I think life post retirement will feel more like a final act but I am very much not there yet. I find my work rewarding and exciting and important. It brings me happiness and keeps me engaged.
However, I am thinking about decade ending fitness goals. Fittest by fifty and still moving at sixty? I’m not sure. Will blog more about decade ending fitness goals later, I’m sure.
Are you a blog reader over 60? What’s ahead? What advice do you have to offer? What goals, if any, did you set for 60?(Also if you turned 60 during the pandemic, that’s enough. No goals needed.)
This week I turned 60. It’s kind of exciting and also a little daunting. I’m excited at reaching what feels like a milestone. My father died 15 days shy of his 60th birthday, of metastatic lung cancer. My mother is 78 (yes, she had me young) and still chugging along. At 60, it feels like I’ll be joining her, my aunts, and older women friends, being inducted into the membership of… some metaphysical organization of which I currently know not.
So, given that some aspects of my future seem ineffable, I’m pragmatically turning to the mundane: what does turning 60 mean for my wardrobe choices? What do various clothing styles mean for women, 60 and older?
Again, I find myself soaring into abstract territory; perhaps it’s just pre-birthday flutterings. Maybe I should just talk about clothing now. Okay, I’ll do that.
Most of what I read online was a miscellany of what NOT to wear, of which I’m choosing to ignore ALL their ill-considered tips. However, I continued searching for articles on style, and style for older women. What are my choices?
There’s always classic and elegant:
Lauren Hutton in a white tailored pantsuit.Helen Mirren in bold orange and magenta separates.
They look lovely (the women and their outfits), but this look doesn’t really suit my personality, lifestyle or bank account.
I do love me some color, though, and you see bright-colored costume-y ensembles on some fashionable older women.
Painted blue jeans, pops of yellow with buffalo plaid top.Electric blue harem pants, blingy jacket and jewelry, sunglasses,Flowing green satin coat, red hat and gloves, and Chanel purse.
These are fabulous, but… not really for me. I like the harem pants and also the flowing green coat, but these are bolder style messages than I think I want to send on a day-to-day basis.
There’s a lot of commentary on what older women wear, and most of it isn’t good. They get lampooned on TV and elsewhere. Who can forgot grandma Yetta from the TV show The Nanny?
Yetta in black and gold sequined jacket, jewelry and sequined waist pack.Yetta in one of many colorful track suits.
By the way, here is what actor Ann Morgan Guilbert, who played Grandma Yetta, looked like in real life:
Actor Ann Morgan Guilbert, looking elegant and stylish as herself.
You may be beginning to get the message that, for older women, style means bold and extreme, maybe bordering on satire. That’s fine if that’s what you want. But I don’t want these to be my only options:
Gray knit cap with black netting over it.Bluish-hued origami cockade hat on woman in multi-colored, multi-textured ensemble.
I mean, they’re totally fab. But not to go into my wardrobe rotation.
Don’t despair for me, gentle readers; I did find a fashion exemplar whose style works for me. I present, for your consideration, looks of Queen Latifah:
QL in transit in dark pants, hoodie, and windowpane plaid coat. Comfy shoes.QL on a warm day in capris and dark v-neck T, Mary Jane style active shoes.Chic. unfussy casual runway for the Queen– belted tunic dress, leggings and low boots, neutral tones.QL at work in black jeans, eggplant cami, tailored casual jacket, black low lace-up boots.
Queen Latifah’s looks feature comfortable shoes, unfussy components, some tailored style, and above all functionality. These are clothes to live in, not pose in. I admit I might pick some pieces with bolder colors too, but I like the combo of useful and chic. Thanks Queen Latifah!
Now, time to go shopping in my closet and see what combos come out of it. Stay tuned for updates.
Readers, what kind of looks are you sporting these days? Any fashion tips or aspirations you want to share? Let me know.
James Brown was a complicated person. But we would all do well to heed his advice here. Before reading the rest of my (tangentially related) blog post, please enjoy his masterpiece below.
While we’re here, let me point out that the unsung hero in this video is the woman dancing on the platform in the back. Could you move that well for that long in those go-go boots? I can say for myself: most definitely not. But I’d love to try…
Classic white go-go boot.A little added platform action.Okay, not white boots, but… words fail me.
Alas, heels like those and I don’t work and play well together. I’m just going to say it: I don’t move as well as I used to. For instance, getting up from my yoga mat on the floor has become steadily less graceful for me. I can’t go from hands and knees on the mat to a full upright position without using my hands. Bending over to make my way up, sometimes I feel a little bit like this:
Toddler, in down dog position, stopped in mid-rise to catch up on some reading.
Of course, toddlers are not so fussy about up, down, using hands, feet, whatever it takes to have fun and explore.
Toddler, resplendent in pink snowsuit, in deep squat, perfecting a tiny snowman.
I don’t think I can maintain a squat like that long enough to make a snowman. However, at the moment I’m more concerned about my general functional fitness. Yes, I can carry groceries, go up and down stairs, access things high and low in my house and elsewhere. I do yoga and walk and cycle and swim and sometimes paddle, but not as frequently or vigorously as I did a few years ago. I’m lucky and privileged to have the degree of function and autonomy and support and access to resources that I do. But like lots of people approaching 60 (less than 3 months from now for me!), I worry about this.
Enter functional fitness training. Yes, many of you are doing it right now, but late to the party is still at the party… I really like these sorts of exercises because they are arbitrarily customizable for many different bodies.
Note: to do the following exercises requires types of mobility, balance, etc. that many people don’t have access to, especially given constraints of equipment, space and training. I recognize that my post doesn’t include these members of our community. There are programs and plans that provide opportunities for people with wide ranges of abilities and disabilities to train for functional fitness (as well as engage in all levels of athletic training). I’m not (yet) knowledgeable about these programs, but will do some work so we can blog about this in future.
The NY Times X-minute workouts are designed with functional fitness in mind; over time, they’ve done 9-minute, their Scientific 7-minute and also 6-minute workouts (which actually take longer than that, just FYI), and included a 7-minute workout that you do standing. I wrote in more detail about the 6-minute workout here.
Basically, these workouts all include some of the following:
push-up: against the wall, on knees, extended body from mat, etc.
plank: against the wall, weight bench or table, on knees, extended body from mat, etc.
bird dog: I love this one, which I do in yoga on my hands and knees from the mat; also done against a wall or beside a chair, bench of table.
wall sit: done against a wall and modifiable by adjusting depth of sit, time held, possibly adding reps of up and down
squats: chair-assisted (chair behind for safety) or not, adjust depth of squat
split squats: with one leg behind and one in front, dropping back leg; either chair-assisted for balance or not; can adjust depth of lunge and number of reps
bicycle crunches: can do standing (touching one bent elbow to opposite knee), sitting on a stool or chair, or while lying down on mat; can adjust number of reps, whether to incorporate elbows and how close to bring elbow to knee
standing lunge: done to the rear, holding a wall or chair for balance, or not; modifiable by number of reps, depth of lunge
mountain climbers: can do them standing upright (lifting legs whatever height), against a wall, against a bench of whatever height; adjusting speed
I love it that all of these are modifiable to give me options. I want to say right now that I’m unlikely to be doing these advanced mountain climber moves or burpees (even though they’re modifiable, as you can see in the link, I can’t even countenance them). But hey, YMMV.
I’m revisiting these functional fitness exercises, rotating them into my weekly movement plans. I want to be stronger, with better balance and flexibility. It’ll help me feel better doing activities I love, like cycling, swimming, paddling, yoga, dancing, etc.
More base strength, flexibility and balance will allow me to be more adventurous, too. Will another parkour class be in my future? Martial arts? Surfing? Tennis? Dunno, but I want to be ready for what comes as I slide into my 60s.
Samantha and Tracy started this blog with “Fittest by Fifty” in mind. I want to be
Sassy (I can check that one off now)
Spirited
Strong
Spry (well, Spryer/Sprier)
Self-confident
Splendid
by Sixty. It’s totally doable.
Of course, functional fitness isn’t the only thing that helps us meet our adjective list. But it’s a part of what helps us get around and be fabulous.
Readers, how are you feeling about your functional fitness? Is it in the background for you, or are you paying more specific attention to it? What are you doing? I’d love to hear from you, as always.
As I was preparing for the Senior Canadian Curling Championships my recurring knee and shoulder injuries were making it hard for me to curl my best. On the ice, I was in constant pain. I needed to get help and to get help fast. A local physiotherapist was recommended to me, but I was skeptical. I’ve been to a dozen physiotherapists, without much luck. Many have made assumptions about my physical ability and age, which ticked me off. At the same time, I was desperate to relieve the pain. Why? It wasn’t so I could get a better sleep or take less Ibuprofen, it was so that I could curl better — full stop. That’s what a lifetime of competing, pushing, and playing does. The academic in me is critical of this. The curler in me is not. The aging woman in me … well the jury is still out because, I can’t lie, it’s getting harder.
When you identify as a curler you tend to get curling related presents that I love, like this beautiful, handcrafted ornament from my daughter for Christmas.
I reluctantly made an appointment with my physiotherapist, Nelson, who turned out to be very young and very fit. This could go badly, I thought. As he was collecting information about me, he learned that I was a curler. He very quickly informed me that he is often mistaken for one of Canada’s most famous curlers, Brad Gushue (2022 Canadian Men’s Olympic Skip).
Connection made … check. Rapport built … check.
As Nelson was assessing my injuries, he told me that “the best thing for you to do right now is rest, but I know you are not going to do that so let’s see what we can do”. I liked this for a couple of reasons. First, there was nothing said about being a woman of a certain age and the importance of scaling back at that age; things that I have heard way too often. Second, he respected that I am an athlete who needs to curl, and to curl well.
Five weeks later and we were off to our competition. I felt a lot better. Not perfect, merely better. But then, what is feeling perfect? For me, there is not a day that goes by where I don’t feel physical pain. As I’m writing this post, my hamstrings are sore, different bits in my back are stiff, and my shoulders ache. As a society, our tendency is to attribute the pain I feel to the fact that I am a 56-year-old woman. But this kind of attribution is simplistic, essentialist, and quite frankly, ageist.
Ageist assumptions about pain permeate other domains of life too. Several years ago, my colleague, Kim Shuey, and I wrote a paper on aging and the perception of disability in the workplace. We found that workers who attribute their disability to aging are less likely to ask for workplace accommodations and are less likely to receive them even if they do ask.
Feeling “perfect” for me is living with some degree of pain, regardless of my age. It is difficult for me to know how much of my pain I should blame on aging or the spinal fusion surgery I had when I was 11 years old to improve a major case of scoliosis. My back is fused from top to bottom, and as a result, other body parts get stretched to their limits. I don’t think that I have lived a day since my surgery where I haven’t experienced pain. I’m used to it and I’m telling you this because it shows that we need to interrogate our assumptions about the relationship between aging and pain.
Interrogating, however, does not mean ignoring. Competing, pushing, and playing is getting harder. Particularly over the last 5 years, recovery time is longer, more body parts hurt at once, and injury is more prevalent. All of this makes the motivation to train more challenging; especially with a pandemic making it unclear whether my team will have an opportunity to play. Why continue? Because I love curling, the curling community, the exercise, and competing.
So, what says the aging woman jury? — Rest!
But I think not. I guess my identity as a curler is stronger than my identity as an older woman, at least for today.
Or my favourite toque hand knit by the fabulous Dr. Lauren Briens.
That kind of makes me sound like I’m starting a band, doesn’t it?
If that was my band name, what would our first album be called?
Ahem.
Back on topic:
Wednesday was my birthday and I had a great day.
My friend Elaine brought me sparklers and other treats for my birthday. She knows how to make everything more fun. Image description: Christine’s right hand is holding the handle of a burning sparkler – a piece of metal that has been coated at one end so it gives off a sparkly flame as it burns. It is night time.
Usually, on my birthday, I’m trying to cram in so many fun things that I actually end up amplifying my usual feeling that I *should* be doing something else.
I always have fun but I tend to feel a bit tightly scheduled and a bit frustrated.
This year, I noticed that feeling creeping up the day before my birthday and I made a conscious decision to get over myself and be clear about the facts:
I don’t have to limit my fun to one day a year. *
In fact, I can add more fun to every week.
I can even add a bit more fun to every day.
I can take my birthday attitude into the rest of the year.
In a surprise to no one, making that decision took all of the pressure out of my birthday.
And instead of keeping a tally of accumulated fun, I just did what I felt like doing in any given moment.
And that’s how I found myself dropping everything to take Khalee for a walk while the sun was out (instead of at a more ‘logical’ time.)
And, it’s how I found myself sitting peacefully, all by myself in the 5pm darkness, watching the small fire I had set in our fire pit.
Normally, I would have talked myself out of lighting a fire just for me. It’s a little bit of hassle and I didn’t have a lot of time before supper, but I had that bit of birthday ‘permission’ going for me so I crumpled some paper and got the kindling from the shed and settled in next to the fire.
I felt calm and restful and so very grateful for all of the good things in my life.
I even felt a bit more patient about the challenges I tend to encounter
It was a wonderful way to round out a day of giving in to my whims.
And, my birthday gift to myself is the decision to prioritize things like an early evening fire far more often.
I challenge you to do the same. 💚
Enjoying the glow of the fire AND the fun of doing just what I wanted to be doing at that moment. Image description: a selfie in which I am outside at night, lit by firelight. I am wearing a dark hat and a dark coat. Only my face is visible and I am smiling contentedly.
*To be clear, I do take time to relax and do fun things on a regular basis. But, on my birthday, I give myself permission to maximize my fun.
