Category: challenge

Danny MacAskill on a water obstacle course with his bike. Biking over water? Yes, it seems it’s possible (if you’re Danny MacAskill)
challenge · cycling · fitness

Biking over water? Yes, it seems it’s possible (if you’re Danny MacAskill)

catherine w4 Comments

I’m a big fan of Danny MacAskill, a Scottish cyclist whose feats on his trials bikes confirm the unlikely hypothesis that bikes can perform on land, sea and air. His videos leave me breathless and dumbfounded, but also admiring of his planning, effort, and honesty about how hard it is to know the magnitude of the obstacles you’re facing, and then face them anyway.

I wrote about his Slabs ride in 2021– how navigating a pandemic and a massive stone edifice on a bike both felt impossible but were doable. Navigating a pandemic, riding down cliff slabs: similar rules

Then in 2024, as the political atmosphere in the US became as scary as the previous pandemic one, I wrote about how Danny shows us how to take what comes: slowly when necessary, using acquired skills, trusting that your body has some knowledge that will help you, and using body english to manage unexpected twists and turns. How to make 2024 less scary, or how to move forward anyway

Now it’s 2026, and aspects of my life feel both scary and appalling, in macro and micro views. The US government is falling apart and taking too many people with it. My mother is falling apart and I’m trying to figure out how to respond. Details of life management have become harder, for macro and micro reasons.

I’m about to go on my first coffee ride in a while with my friend Janet, who’s meeting me in Arlington Center to cycle up the bike path to Lexington. I’ve done this ride dozens of times, and am looking forward to easy chat, easy pedaling, and yummy ice coffee. I remember how to do this, and am managing my anxiety with that knowledge along with the reward at the end– hanging with a friend, drinking coffee.

And I can take comfort in the fact that no part of my ride will go over water and require the skills you see practiced below by Danny MacAskill in his newest video– riding over water! I’ll just let you watch, heart in mouth, hoping against hope he doesn’t end up in the drink… If you want to read an interview with him about this course, check it out here.

Have a lovely Sunday!

a photo of a dog standing in some greenery Christine inches slowly towards her 2026 movement goal.
ADHD · challenge · fitness · goals · walking

Christine inches slowly towards her 2026 movement goal.

Christine HenneburyLeave a comment

When I started The Conqueror 2026 challenge in January, I set myself a goal of 730 kms of deliberate exercise* for the year.

For those of you playing along at home, that would be the equivalent of 2 km per day, every day.

Why ‘the equivalent’?

Because I don’t actually care all that much about walking that specific distance.

What I care about is increasing my daily exercise/activity levels and the Conqueror challenge lets me measure everything in terms of distance so all of my fitness activities are adding up to the same thing. *

If that sentence made you say, “Wait, what?”, please allow me to clarify.

  1. The distance was pretty arbitrary in the first place – I picked it to represent the approximate amount of activity I figured I could do most days.
  2. I don’t care specifically about walking that distance, I care about doing that much activity.
  3. The app lets me input other activities – like calisthenics, yard work, or dancing – into the tracker and tells me the walking distance that is equivalent to that activity.
  4. Since my ADHD self tends to struggle with tracking/measuring progress, especially if that tracking is overly detailed or fine-grained, having everything translated to distance is really helpful. AND having everything rolled into one metric reminds me that all of the different types of exercise I do are all part of the same goal – feeling better and moving more easily.

But even though the tracker is useful and has helped me to be way more consistent than I would otherwise be, I am currently behind on my challenge.

a screencap of a walking challenge tracker
a screen cap of my challenge homepage that shows two gray rectangles in the centre the top rectangle says ‘goal distance 730.0 km’ and the bottom rectangle says ‘Reason – to challenge myself to move a lot each day.’ behind the rectangles are two images that will be on the eventual medal I will receive. In the upper right corner is the long neck of a dragon outlines of clouds behind it. The dragon is gold and the cloud outlines summer gold, and some are bronze. In the bottom left corner is a grey silhouette of a howling wolf sitting on an outline of a rock and there are outlined clouds behind it. At the bottom of the image is a circular logo that says ‘Conquer 2026’. And shows two trackers. The top one in gray and black indicates that I have travelled 42% of the distance. I need to travel this year. The bottom one indicates that 57% of the year has passed. Underneath both of those is a sentence that reads 103.7 km behind your planned pace.

Luckily, I’m not fazed by this in the least.

There were definitely times in the past when I would have ditched the challenge by this point because of the focused effort it will take to close the gap between my current position and the ideal position for this point in the year.

But this current version of myself is looking at that gap and thinking. “I can totally close that!”

And guess what?

I’m right!

It may take me until the end of September but I am 100% confident that I will catch up, keep going, and earn a 2026 Conqueror challenge medal.

I’ll let you know how things are going at the end of August.

*And ‘deliberate exercise’ means additional movement that I have chosen to do – i.e. I am not measuring steps that are part of my daily activities.

**Besides fitness, of course, but the idea of being ‘fitter’ or having a good ‘fitness level’ is not even remotely tangible.

People dancing in workout wear in purple/blue light up in the club. by Frankie Cordoba for Unsplash. What’s wrong with showing up late to the (workout) party? Nothing, really.
226 in 2026 · challenge · fitness · motivation

What’s wrong with showing up late to the (workout) party? Nothing, really.

catherine w2 Comments

Since 2017 I’ve been a member of the 2XX workouts in 20XX Facebook group. I’ve always made it– most years screaming in on the last day of the year, sometimes doing two or more workouts to squeak through. But hey, a win’s a win.

Until 2025. I was chugging along until the beginning of fall. Then, for no particular reason, I trailed off. Stopped posting. I felt like I should resume, but I didn’t.

Then in 2026, I restarted, only to stop again after recording 6 or 7 workouts. Hmmm.

I’ve never had an easy relationship with challenges– they bring out my inner belligerent teenager, ready to flip off anyone (including my non-teenaged self) who’s trying to put me on a schedule of (Heaven forbid) self-improvement. But my non-teenaged self knows it’s not really self-improvement I’m aiming at; rather, it’s self-care. Huh.

I’ve been a close-to-daily meditator since the pandemic. Before 2020, I meditated off and on for decades. But the combination of extreme necessity and a handy app (I’ve boosted the Happier app a lot here, but there are loads of them to try) has helped me set up and maintain a practice that works for me. As they say, the numbers don’t lie…

I've meditated 308 weeks in a row. Yes, missing a few days here and there, but I'm pretty proud of this.
I’ve meditated 308 weeks in a row. Yes, missing a few days here and there, but I’m pretty proud of this.

The co-most important lesson I’ve learned from 308 weeks of close-to-daily meditation (along with “just breathe”) is that the streak that matters is the streak of one. Being and doing at the time is the thing. Not for what it will yield down the road, but for what it does now, in that moment.

Yes, that sounds cheesy. But a) something can be both cheesy and true at the same time; and b) I’m trying to be sincere here, so don’t pick on me… 🙂

Back to the 226 workouts in 2026: It’s June 28, so we’re almost at the six-month mark. I’m restarting a focus on doing and recording workouts as of yesterday. My plan is 113 workouts by the end of the year. I started last night with yoga before bed. That’s one. I can continue with streaks of one at a time.

Time to do some more yoga now.

Dear readers, how do you feel about streaks? Interrupting them, restarting them? I’m not asking for advice here, but it would be cool to hear how these experiences feel for you. I’ll report back in a while on mine.

Feeling open. That's a good thing. A red flag with the word "open" in white, against a blue sky. By Clemens Van Lay for Unsplash.
Feeling open for business. Open to what’s ahead. By Clemens Van Lay for Unsplash.

challenge · dogs · fitness · food

Day three check in on my three viral fitness trends

Sam B1 Comment

See Doing What TikTok Tells Me: A Two-Week Experiment for the backstory.

1. Okay,  I like the 9 daily movements upon waking. I’ve done them every day so far.

Little life hack: I do them while the coffee is brewing.

2. Cheddar likes the after dinner digestive walls. No issues.  Done all three days. 

Cheddar!

3. I’m not so sure about the 30-30-30 thing. That’s 30 minutes of exercise and 30 grams of protein 30 minutes after waking. 

West’s the wrinkle? I take medication that I need to take first thing in the morning and not eat for an hour.  So 30 grams of protein in the first 30 minutes isn’t happening.  I do have 30 grams of protein when I do eat though. 

The 30 minutes of exercise is also hit or miss. It’s easy on Mondays when I ride my bike on Zwift.  Tuesday is personal training very early. But I missed Wednesday because  I had to travel to Toronto on a very early GO train.

I’ll keep trying!

Moving more makes Christine want to move more – go figure!
challenge · dogs · fitness · walking

Moving more makes Christine want to move more – go figure!

Christine Hennebury2 Comments

Khalee and I have been working on a walking challenge – The Great Sniffari 2026 – and I chose for us to walk 21km over the first 10 days of May.

Often when I try to take photo of Khalee, she steps out of the way. This time she kind of photobombed my photo of this fallen tree with the roots exposed and a ‘witch broom’ tangle of branches on it. Image description: a photo of Khalee, my medium-sized dog with short, light-brown hair on most of her body and white paws, tail, and face, wearing a jaunty green bandana with cartoon bugs on it. She is looking to the right in the photo and her neck is foreshortened because of the angle so she looks a little squished. Behind her is a fallen tree with the roots exposed.

The challenge seemed like it would be fairly easy at the outset – a small extra effort on top of our usual walks – but things went a bit awry and I realized last Thursday that I was going to have to do a bit of a push to finish on time.

So on Thursday we walked 2.78km, on Friday we did 2.81, Saturday was 3km which technically brought us to the end of our challenge.* (In fact, we only needed .29km on Saturday to finish.)

I say technically because I didn’t realize the settings in the app wouldn’t carry over from my other, year-long, challenge and the Sniffari was pulling Apple Health step data.

I didn’t actually want to include steps from things like walking around the house or the grocery store but because they automatically uploaded at the end of each day, I didn’t realize they were being rolled into my total and I was surprised to find out that I was finished.

Once I figured out why I had finished a day early, I calculated my actual distances and then added extra amounts to my daily walks for the next few days to match the way I wanted things to play out.

No matter the details of the challenge, on Saturday I realized something important.

These longer walks were making me feel great.

I mean, I generally enjoy going for a walk – even when I have to drag myself out for them – but this was a different kind of enjoyment.

I was starting to feel those kind of intangible benefits I get when I exercise regularly – a looser feeling in my hips, a certain ease of movement, an overall feeling of wellbeing – after only 3 days of extra effort.

That seemed kind of quick but I wasn’t about to look a gift horse in its proverbial mouth here. Instead, I decided to keep building momentum.

So, on Sunday, we walked 4.42km and, on Monday, we walked 4.08km, and it felt purposeful, straightforward, and kind of tiring – but in a good way.

And, on top of that, all of this extra movement seems to have flipped a mental switch for me and I have found myself doing a bit more yoga, a few more strength training exercises, taking a few extra trips up the stairs, and adding mobility exercises while I am doing things around the house.

So, it seems that, like the title says, moving more makes me want to move more.

And I like it!

Of course, I know that this has happened to me before – I’ve gotten into an exercise routine, started to feel the effects, been enjoying myself, and then something has gone sideways and I lost momentum or had to change gears.

So, I have told myself to keep an eye out for when that happens and in the meantime I am developing some backup plans.

I’ll let you know how it all goes, obviously. 🙂

a photo of a dog next to a small river
a photo of Khalee, my medium-sized dog with short, light-brown hair on most of her body and white paws, tail, and face, standing next to a river on a bright, sunny day. She is sort of side on and she’s facing the left side of the photo. She has a harness and leash on. She’s standing on dried grass and mud, the river next to her is filled with brownish red rocks and there are trees and more dried grass and mud on the other side of the river.
Comparison Is the Thief of Everyone’s Joy
challenge

Comparison Is the Thief of Everyone’s Joy

Mina1 Comment

A few weeks ago, I shared my excitement about a longer run I’d done with a close friend, a runner and occasional running companion. Some context: as those of you who read my posts know, I’ve set myself the challenge of doing a 21k run once a month this year. This is a stretch, given I never ran that distance once last year and had foot surgery. It’s a challenge I think can complete. And each time I’ve set out so far this year, I’ve felt a frisson of fear. So, when I finish, I’m relieved, with a side dish of woohoo. When I shared, my friend said, with real frustration: “Every time I think I’ve done a good workout, I hear what you’ve done, and I feel like a loser.”

Crap. My first instinct was guilt. Am I a jerk? Why did I even need to say it? Did I offer the news in a showoff tone? Was my timing bad? Out for dinner on a Friday night. I am still thinking through how I might have said things better or whether I should have held off. I’m still examining my own motivations for sharing. Why do I even need to? (Even as I’m sharing my accomplishment here, too).

Sure, I know that the comparison isn’t mine to manage. Still, I don’t want to make my friend feel bad. Nor do I want to have the wind sucked out of my sails. The math her brain ran wasn’t her workout versus her goals. It was her workout versus mine. And she felt like she’d lost. And then I lost, too. Because comparison is a rigged game. Nobody wins.

This is happening all the time. Someone gets a promotion and we audit our own career, instead of truly celebrating their achievement. Someone posts a beautiful photo of themselves, and we scrutinize ourselves in the mirror, alert to everywhere the crow has stepped. The scoreboard is running 24/7 in the background, and we are behind.

I have those game announcer voices, telling me someone else has more. More success. More money. More love. More beauty. More … you name it. All of which can spiral me down the I’m not enough drain.  So much noise.

When is anything enough?

I know. You know. We know. Enough is enough when we decide that it is so. We live in a maelstrom of enablers (hello social media), which inundate us with opportunities to compare and despair. The real accounting has to happen inside our own selves, or it will eat at us in perpetuity.

Our work is to find that tiny pause between the comparison and the collapse. My longtime mindfulness practice serves me here. When I give the voices space to rant and offer them gentle support. Plus, the slow accumulation of wisdom that comes from long years of repeatedly recognizing the fruitlessness of comparison.

There’s no finite supply of fitness, or success, or beauty, or achievement being divided up among us. My enough does not necessitate someone else’s not enough. Even if the voices inside our heads want us to believe that this life is a zero-sum game.

Oh, and also, when I told my youngest brother that I’d run my April 21k, he told me that he’d done seventeen (yes, 17) 21k runs already this year. Did I feel frustrated? Maybe the teeny, tiniest bit. Mostly, I thought, wow. He’s on a streak. Also, youngster!

On May 1st, I did my 21k for the month. I woke up with that pre-run anxiety. I arrived home on my doorstep with a thrill. A reminder of the joy that lives inside my body.

challenge · cycling · fitness · Guest Post · illness

The Origins of My Surprising Fitness Journey

whsbike49a42cfbfd2 Comments

 In 1998, we were traveling in Australia. That was a lifelong dream of mine. As far back as 4th grade I read books about animals. I began dreaming about parts of the world where they were widespread and different. Now, at last, with Bruce (my husband), daughters, and friends, we were there. This day we were in Queensland. We had seen the Barrier Reef, the giant clams, the enormous cod and all sorts of colorful creatures. Then, off to dinner and a good night’s sleep.

I woke up to find one of our friends sitting next to me, chin on hand, staring thoughtfully. He’s a doctor. My husband & I shared a room with a good friend whose mobility is severely limited (we’ve been good friends since high school). She told me I’d had a grand mal seizure. She had recognized it and, from her experience as a special-ed speech therapist, had been able to talk Bruce through it. The others had called a local doctor. He arrived, checked a few things then asked, “Do you know where you are?” I looked around. The whole thing had, to me, a pretty Alice in Wonderland feeling. Dream-like. I hadn’t thought to question anything. But now, I realized I had no idea where I was. A trip planned for 30 years, and it was gone?

Fortunately, the memory of everything through the previous evening came back. And the doctor  said we could continue to travel (phew) but I’d need a cat scan if it happened again. He thought I’d had “a one-off fit.” So we finished the trip, but when I got back home, I went straight to my doctor, who sent me to a neurologist, who got an MRI, which showed the tumor. Surgery followed, then lots of MRIs & follow-up care. And, since my tumor was very low grade, a projected life expectancy of 10-15 years. In the brain cancer world, that is great. But for the 46-year-old hearing it, not so great.

Once I had grown somewhat accustomed to my new reality, it occurred to me that I’d better give up procrastination. I suppose we all think of that as a pretty good new year’s resolution, but this time, I meant it, and I followed up. And one of my top priorities had been to get back in shape. I had been running the family business and raising daughters, and there just wasn’t a ton of time out there. My daughters were, by now, away at college, so that excuse was no good any more. So I got a stationary bike – the old kind with nothing but a seat, handlebars and pedals. And I put in a half hour every day, and it began to make quite a difference.

After a few months, Bruce kept telling me how boring that was, and that I really needed to get out on a real bike. Eventually, I caved in, and got a hybrid bike and began to take cautious rides along local paths. I got up to 5 miles! Ten miles! He got me out to ride to a local reservoir, a ride that included some traffic and a final climb of 100 feet or so. I thought, 1) I might die from the effort, and 2) I must have climbed something roughly equivalent to Mount Everest.

And one more change, and then another: I joined a women’s bike club; I cured tendinitis caused by lugging the heavy hybrid bike onto the commute train by buying the road bike the shop guys recommended; I was so impressed by the lightness & easy riding – once I had overcome my fear of such a delicate vehicle – that I signed up for the following year’s AIDS ride from San Francisco to Los Angeles.

And so many things followed. More AIDS rides (there’s quite a story there, since when I finished the first one, I said to myself, well, I’ll never have to do that again!); lots of touring and leading local endurance training rides, some running, some strength training, some yoga, and lots and lots of tap dance. That was already a regular thing – my older daughter was in STOMP! for a couple of years & we went to tap festivals together.

Somewhere in the fitness journey, I stumbled across this blog, and loved it! I can go on with my stories, but first I want to thank all of you who write here for the inspiration and support you have given. And to apologize for the somewhat haphazard pace of my comments. I have comments in my head for almost every post I read, and only seem to get a few of them out to you. So thanks so much for all you have done to help this journey!

Quick Bio: I am a lifelong Californian. I have a husband, two daughters, and five grandchildren. I spent 40+ years in the family business, taking over when my father retired. I have served on a couple of school boards and worked with several non-profits and several individuals who needed help. My lucky life makes me very eager to pay it forward. My current fitness makes me very eager to see the world from a bike saddle.


Me at about age 10 with what I think was my second bike. 3 speeds, and we often had to wear dresses.
Me holding my bike overhead at the half way point on the AIDS ride from SF to LA.
The third is a picture of me and Bruce having ridden up Waimea Canyon on Kauai.
No Surrender: Dancing with Resistance and Acceptance as I Approach a New Decade
aging · challenge · femalestrength · motivation · running · Science · technology

No Surrender: Dancing with Resistance and Acceptance as I Approach a New Decade

Mina5 Comments

Cognitive surrender is an essential new term that’s arisen to describe the abdication of our own reasoning to a machine that sounds fluent, confident, and authoritative. Studies are showing that when people interact with AI tools, they accept flawed reasoning at a startling level (almost 75% of the time). Not because they don’t have the capacity to reason better themselves. But because it is easier not to question. As a writer, it will likely come as no surprise that I’m leery of outsourcing. I worry about dulling not just my cognitive capacity, even more so my creativity.

And, yes, I have started working with AI tools, because I also think it’s important to understand what these machines are all about and how I might use them in an un-surrendered manner. I almost used the word collaborate in that last sentence, instead of use. I chose not to, because I’m not yet ready to acknowledge these machines as entities. That feels like surrender. This from someone who is more than willing to see trees as sentient beings well before reading Michael Pollan’s new book, A World Appears.

I am exploring the border between surrender and leveraging these cognitive machines to free my time for deeper engagement with the world. More akin to my vacuum cleaner than a friend.

I have been thinking a lot about surrender in my body, too. Every time I read an article about aging and activity, which tells me that I should move more gently, now that I’m on the verge of a new decade, a part of me growls protectively. Not yet.  

This physical version of surrender can be seductive. Messaging that encourages the little voices that say: I’m older now. Intensity is harder. Recovery is harder. Maybe I should just… let these things be harder. Be gentle with myself. Slow down. Stop. Lie down. The End. Okay—those last four are the hyperbole kicking in.The reasoning (without exaggeration) arrives fluently, confidently, with authority. And, as with AI reasoning, if I’m not careful, I might accept these blandishments about aging without interrogating the particularities of my own case.

I see the parallel this way: an authoritative-seeming signal in the form of an AI answer or an aging body; the availability of a path of least resistance; the ways that acceptance is not neutral, reshaping what we expect of ourselves and ultimately what we are actually capable of.

What the cognitive surrender research captures is that the problem isn’t using external tools. We humans have been off-loading cognitive tasks for a while now. Thank you, calculators. The red flag is what happens when we stop verifying. When silken reasoning substitutes for truth. When we accept not because we’ve evaluated, but because it’s so frictionless (and pleasant) to not expend the effort.

In the physical realm, adjusting our expectations as we age is not always surrender. Of course not. Surrender is unexamined acceptance.  Letting the message of limitation go unchallenged. Sliding past the effort of finding out just what we are still capable of.  

I turn 60 this year. I’d like to say I feel easy, breezy about that. I don’t. I’m in search of the right balance of grace and grit. I have set myself the goal of running a half marathon (21 kilometers or 13.1 miles) every month. Twelve months, twelve runs (among all the other runs I will do). When I was younger, that distance was a regular sized effort. Last year, I did not run that distance even once. And my year culminated in foot surgery in late November (which I wrote about here).

The decision has an element of stubbornness, to be sure. I am a Taurus, after all. On New Year’s Day, I started the year running 21k with my brother on mountain trails. I had a genuine concern that I would not run the whole distance. It took a while. I got it done. I was inspired. And so, this challenge. As I write this, four 21k are done. Eight to go.

I hear the voices that tell me: You’re not built for this anymore. I’m checking their veracity. They might be right. I might not be up for the challenge. I want to be gentle with myself, if I’m not. This is not about punishment. It’s about exaltation. The joy of discovering, each month, that I still have the capacity.

When I was a child, my mother always made us take the stairs. I remember glancing longingly at elevators as we passed them by. Now I live on the eighth floor, and I take the stairs almost every time I leave or come home. Not always. I’m realistic, not rigid. Not because I’m proving something. Because the habit of not surrendering has become its own kind of instinct. My mother was training something in me: the reflex to push gently against the available convenience, to stay curious about what I might actually be capable of.

The AI researchers found that people with higher fluid IQ scores were more likely to maintain their own judgment under pressure. I do not claim any extra intelligence. I think gentle resistance is more about habit. The habit of fact checking.

This is what I want to hold onto as I run my way through this year, one half marathon at a time. Not the delusion that there no limits that come with age. I have plenty. Instead, I want to cultivate the discipline of inquiry, to distinguish real limits from the limits that are presented with confidence, waiting for me to accept them without scrutiny.

My body, like a large language model, will tell me what it thinks I want to hear in smooth and reasonable tones. Rest. Take the elevator. Watch Netflix.

Sometimes my body is right. And I will be dancing with surrender and resistance, until I find the choreography that leads to graceful, gritty acceptance.

To do lists
advice · challenge · fitness · goals · habits · planning

To do lists

elan.paulson

If, like me, you’re a habitual maker of lists, you know how enjoyable it can be to make one. I want to tell you about the two kinds of lists I tend to make.

The first type is a detailed, four-quadrant list that is legibly handwritten in a spiral notebook. It’s a strategy I learned from leadership training years ago: draw two lines bifurcating the left and right, top and bottom of the page. Top left: IMMEDIATE to-dos. Top right: TODAY to-dos. Bottom left: TOMORROW to-dos. Bottom right: LATER THIS WEEK. Now there’s four lists! 🤩

This 4-list system has helped me triage competing demands and deadlines in a busy life schedule. As the top half got completed by the end of the day, I’d feel that little list-hit of dopamine. More satisfaction would come when tomorrow’s items were ALL scratched off and became today’s.

My second style of list is a scrawl of half-expressed ideas onto the back of a mail envelope, program flyer, or receipt. These lists get folded and stuffed into my pockets or become bookmarks, only to be discovered later, partly deciphered partly forgotten.

Over the past few months I have not had the discipline of a tidy schedule. My flâneuse-style wandering has reflected in my list-making. I tried to make a type 1 list, but items didn’t easily sort when my “today” and “tomorrow” have been so fluid. Instead, the type 2 lists catch my daily thoughts before they dissolve, little messy scraps that reveal how I am figuring out what shape my life takes next.

A handwritten list on the back of a Saje sales receipt: CAAT, 4-piece snaps, unemployment (CHECK!), City of London, MOI.
List Type 2: A handwritten list on the back of a Saje sales receipt: CAAT, 4-piece snaps, unemployment (CHECK!), City of London, MOI. What does it all mean? I hardly know myself.

Adam Grant has a WorkLife episode on procrastination where he suggests writing a to don’t list to make visible what’s might be delaying one’s progress and help get yourself out of your own way. That’s not a bad idea, especially when big life transitions mean the work of processing hard feelings, managing stress, and trying to find small wins.

So I’m giving a type 3 list a try. Moving into my next life phase, which doesn’t yet have neat time-bound quadrants, I write neatly down the centre of the page:

  • Don’t be hard on yourself.
  • Don’t fail to appreciate what you have.
  • Don’t seek certainty at the expense of your joy.
  • Don’t not trust yourself. (Double negative, but you get it.)

This third type of list has turned out to be important, not because it tells me what I need to do but because it reminds me who I want to be.

Gravel to grass, by Unsplash. Catherine hates before/after pictures (with one exception)
challenge · fitness

Catherine hates before/after pictures (with one exception)

catherine w1 Comment

One of the many things I love about this blog and these bloggers is the consistent message that we are okay as we are, and that our lives can and should be happening NOW, not wait around until we’ve achieved some other body size or proportion. Time and time again we’ve called out the fitness industry for promoting body size and proportion changes as if they are the most important aspect of engaging in physical activity.

The before/after photos are especially objectionable to me for this reason. In addition to being misleading and probably photoshopped, they add on the emotional force of equating the before state with being unhappy, unattractive, unfit, unwell, unacceptable for public view. Of course this isn’t accurate.

Then comes the after state, depicted in more colorful or fashionable attire, better lighting, and of course smiles (in addition to body shape and proportion changes that reflect stereotypical views about what the fit or acceptable or attractive body is supposed to look like).

Despite that fact that we know all this, before/after photos are everywhere. The rise in use of GLP-1 weight loss drugs has brought them back with the vengeance on social media and in advertisements for online hawkers selling compounded forms of the drug (a very bad idea, btw).

One new twist on the before/after messaging was a series of ads I saw on Facebook, selling an exercise program. It kept saying, “you’ll be unrecognizable in eight weeks if you do this”.

Ew. No. I don’t want to be unrecognizable. I mean, what would happen at work? People would say, “excuse me, where is Catherine? And why are you in her office?”

Seriously though, you get the idea. In January and February (which is the new January, as we know), we are pummeled with ads selling exercise and diet programs, promising us quick transformation. I’m not opposed to transformation– in fact, I spend a lot of time working on projects that I hope will be transformative. I write, meditate, and do creative tasks in part to find new insights that change the way I see the world.

I do physical activity because I have goals, but also because it makes me feel good. Or great. It does change me, but in more complex ways than a mere photo can capture.

Here’s my one exception to the no before/after pics rule: when I get my hair cut. Here’s what I posted to my book group signal thread.

Me, before haircut. Admittedly well overdue for a trim.
Me, before haircut. Admittedly well overdue for a trim.
During hair transformation. After washing, all turbaned up. I wish I could manage this look at home.
During hair transformation. After washing, all turbaned up. I wish I could manage this look at home.

Now, without further ado, the after-haircut salon-pristine pics.

A woman with short gray hair wearing glasses and a black salon cape smiles for the camera in a hair salon. In the background, another person with gray hair is seated, while various hair products are displayed on shelves.
Full-face view, smiling and sleek.
A woman with short gray hair and glasses smiling in a salon, wearing a black cape, with a sign reading 'VINNDIO' in the background. A seated person in the background is using a phone.
Turned a little, for mystery.

Readers, what do you think of before/after pictures? And more importantly, do you like my new haircut?