competition · cycling · family · fitness · Guest Post · racing · running · triathalon

I cannot NOT do this (Guest post)


By Janet Tufts

I was a proud “Dickie Chick.” One of a threesome of sisters, with a dad named Dick, who participated relay-style in the 70.3 Ironman in Muskoka in 2017. One sister swam the 1.9k, the other sister biked the 90k, and I ran the 21.1k. (That’s me on the right.) 

The Dickie Chicks. Janet is on the right.


I remember flying past runners who were doing the full slog, calling out “just doing the relay” so they wouldn’t feel bad. As beaten up as they looked, I was strangely envious of their extra sweat, grime and grit. Fleetingly.

Running prevailed and I started to get serious about it. I raced for personal bests and prizes and bought a Garmin. About a year ago, I noticed my runs were turning into countdowns: 9k to go, 6k, 5k, 4k, 3k, 2k, done.I was also getting unnecessarily anxious before races, even before speed workouts. (Ridiculous!)

A few months ago, my oldest son announced a goal to do the Muskoka 70.3 Ironman to mark his 40th birthday.

And there it was—that fleeting feeling from seven years ago. Me? An Ironman? The feeling started to linger. It started to grow.

I did some research, talked to a few experts. Before long, I’d gone way past doing the 70.3 in cottage country at age 64. I was fantasizing about being at the 2025 Ironman 70.3 World Championships in Spain on November 8, 2025, at age 65. 

I kept things to myself. I was afraid that if the words came out of my mouth, I’d be committed.

Uncertainty swept in. I hadn’t swum lengths in four decades, not to mention my childhood trauma over cold water.

In a bold moment, I called a personal coach—Ryan Power, as good as they come. I was surprised he was keen to take on a 65-year-old female novice. You know what he said? He said that he’s currently working with seven athletes right now and two are over age 75.

Well then.

He said that an equivalent to qualifying for the world tri championships is qualifying for the Boston marathon, which I’ve done twice. 

Well then.

It’s in the cards, I said to myself. I was ready to let it out of the bag. Now I’m committed.

What has gotten into me? I prefer simplicity. What can be more complicated than a triathlon watch, or a fuel plan to sustain 8 hours of work?

I don’t really like spending money. In the last 20 days, I have spent at least $2.5k, and according to Austrian triathlete, Clément, I can expect to spend another $3k to get myself geared up for competition, and then $2.9k in every year to follow. (Not including things like Spain.)

A bike covered in tri gear.


Worst of all, I can’t figure out the leg action to clip out of the pedals on my new road bike. 

“You’ll want to clip out with your right leg,” said the bike specialist, “so you can lean away from the traffic.”

But my right leg wasn’t working. Forget the traffic, I thought, I’m using my left.

Last week was my first official week of training. Don’t tell Ryan, but after day one, I had a stiff back. After day three, I had a bruised elbow from banging the lane ropes. And on day five, I added a scraped knee to the old bod from tipping over on my bike. (I’d clipped out—yay—but forgot to use the brakes.)

It’s week two. I can hardly wait to get going again.

Will I make it to Spain? I have no idea. But I like picturing myself crossing the finish line. If that gives me joy and motivation and a good reason to hop out of bed every morning, then why not try. Anyway, I’m 64; I can do whatever I want.

Is that the point of this endeavour? That I’ve reached the age where I can do whatever I want? Let’s think about this.

I cannot get too excited and talk about my new hobby too much or people will think I’m bragging. No one likes a braggart. Humility is the much-preferred trait, especially in the family I married into.

I cannot let myself get too exhausted. Yawning through social gatherings is equally as unattractive as bragging. And I need energy to continue baking bread, concocting hummus, and creating grandkids’ birthday cakes (another source of joy).

A child expressing joy over a poop emoji cake.


I cannot let my new hobby negatively impact my 42-year marriage. I cannot consume our travel budget around races; I cannot get too obsessed because that’s hard to live with; I cannot cram the drying rack with any more workout clothes; I cannot let this interfere with happy family traditions; and I certainly cannot expect a cozy night on the couch livestreaming tri championships. It’s not golf, after all.

The cannots add up, and they’re hard; I think about them all the time. But I cannot not do this or I’d be short-changing myself on something my gut is telling me to go for. Who cares if I get a little excited, exhausted and obsessed? It’s nothing that a new drying rack can’t fix. Or a glass of wine in Spain.

Lots of athletic wear on a clothes drying rack.

Janet Tufts’ bio

With over 30 years of local, national and international experience in the non-profit and public sectors, Janet is currently enjoying semi-retirement, balancing a part-time role as Executive Director of Operation Walk Canada with her love of reading, writing, baking and moving. Previously, Janet served as the Executive Director of both Big Brothers Big Sisters of London and Area and the Canadian Medical Hall of Fame.  


From 2016 to 2018, Janet spent two years in Malaysia as a member of a multi-cultural team that led the government’s implementation of their blueprint for public school transformation. Janet holds a Master’s in Business Administration, Bachelor of Education, Bachelor of Arts, and a Professional Certificate in Communications and Public Relations. She has served as a director on numerous boards, and is currently a board member of St. Joseph’s Health Care London. Janet embraces any opportunity to be part of a humanitarian mission and to date, has been to Southern Sudan, Peru and Ecuador. 

competition · femalestrength · fitness · racing · team sports

Meet our newest sports hero: Jolien Boumkwo, Belgian shot-putter and substitute hurdler

Hey y’all– in case you’re in need of some happy, joyful, positive news today: look no further. Meet Jolien Boumkwo, Belgian shot-putter and all-around good egg. She literally embodied the spirit of teamwork on Saturday at the European Championships in Track and Field. How did she do this? By winning her shot-putting competition? Nope. She finished seventh, which is excellent. But no, it wasn’t that.

Boumkwo ran the hurdles race even though she is not a hurdler, but in fact a shot putter (completely different skillsets, I’m told). Why did she do it? Because: a) no one else on her team was available (due to injuries); and b) they needed someone in the race in order: b1) not to get disqualified from continued competition; and b2) get one point for their team in the hopes of not getting relegated from Division 1.

So Boumkwo did it. Here is the race. Watch it; you’ll be glad you did.

Shot putter Jolien Boumkwo, running carefully and powerfully over hurdles on her way to a team point for Belgium.

I love it that she’s tall enough basically to step over the hurdles and that she’s being careful not to get injured. It’s also nice (and appropriate) that she got high fives and handshakes from some of the other hurders after the race.

For contrast, here’s what Boumkwo doing what she’s trained to do.

Jolien Boumkwo, poetry and strength and precision in motion.

In her spare time, Boumkwo throws hammers, too. Note how far this one goes.

I came across the story in the New York Times, and of course the commenters had plenty to say. The comments were about equally divided between congratulations and thanks to her for demonstrating the spirit of teamwork, and shared anecdotes of cases where folks substituted in a not-their-sport competition and took one for the team. There were high jumpers who tried pole vaulting, hurdlers who tried relay races, swimmers who tried diving, and so on. They all said it gave them an appreciation for others’ talent and a feeling of team unity.

Or course there was one crabby person who said Boumkwo’s performance was embarrassing. Naturally, the rest of us piled on, replying that they were quite mistaken. Here’s what I added:

Her team needed someone in the race to get a point, and she volunteered (obviously with the approval of her coaches). It was heartening to see her, a champion athlete in her own right, put her ego aside to move safely and strongly through the race on behalf of her team. It wasn’t embarrassing– not to her, not to her competitors, not to her team, not to me, and not to other sports fans. It was joyful, smile-inducing, and inspiring in the best ways.

I assume you agree, FIFI readers?

Have I missed any other heroes this week? Let us know. Or tell us about your favorite moments of team participation.

competition · cycling

Unbelievable

Occasionally things happen in the world of cycling the you can’t quite believe. Like this story: “31 riders kicked out of Giro Next Gen for holding onto team vehicles on Stelvio climb: Cyclists grabbed onto cars and motorcycles up the legendary ascent.”

The video is remarkable. Like people who get a drive in ultramarathons, you can find no good explanation for why anyone thought that would be acceptable in a race.

I mean I’ve been tempted to get up hills on my bike by means other than pedaling and I’ve occasionally accepted a gentle push from another rider but it would never occur to me that that’s okay in a race.

And then there’s this story, According to This Race Organizer, Safety Is Too Much for the Women’s Peloton to Ask.

What happened?

“The race’s opening stage was marred with oncoming traffic and vehicles parked along the closed course, pedestrians wandering across the road, and riders navigating around traffic in the final kilometers.”

What did the race director say?

“But apparently, a regard for their safety is simply too much for the women’s peloton to ask. In a stunning combination of victim-blaming and condescension, the race’s organizer Pascal Baudron was quoted as saying, “The girls have demands that are not in line with their level. They imagine that they are on the Tour de France and that all the roads must be closed, that everything must be locked down.”

A small child in a yellow dress with hands over her eyes. It’s an image you get when you search the WordPress free photo library for “unbelievable.”

That’s this week and it’s not even Friday.

Unbelievable.

athletes · competition · fitness

Tracy couldn’t survive Physical: 100

Image description: Netflix page for Physical: 100, with the title of the show and a short description on the left, and a series of images of contestants super-imposed over one another, four men and two women, men all bare-chested with chiseled torsos, all in action shots.

When I first noticed the Korean show Physical: 100 on Netflix, I was intrigued. It reminded me of The Shape of an Athlete, Howard Schatz’s amazing photographs of the wide range of athletic body types across diverse Olympic sports, from his book, Athlete.

Not only did it remind me of that, but I am a fan of Korean tv and I am a fan of competition shows (okay, mostly baking and cooking, but back in the early-90s I did name one of my first cats after an American Gladiator named Storm). Since I’d just finished Snack vs Chef and I like having one reality tv competition show on the go to dip in and out of, Physical: 100 seemed worth a try.

Physical: 100 starts with 100 of the fittest athletes in Korea (who are mostly Korean, but there are a few foreigners in the mix), from diverse sports and sectors. From an Olympic gold medalist to an extreme rescue worker, an MMA champion, boxers, body builders, fitness influencers, dancers, cheerleaders and martial artists, men and women, the diversity of strong and fit bodies is most definitely represented.

Watching them all enter the room in episode one and find their “torso” among the room full of plaster cast statues of each of their torsos was way more interesting than it sounds. Each time someone new came in they were all in awe. And though they all turn out to be super competitive, they also have a next level culture of respect that is nicely captured in those opening scenes.

Over the course of nine episodes there will be five challenges, with one person standing by the end. They win 300 million Korean Won (or just over $315,000 Canadian). They start with a pre-challenge to see how long they can hang suspended high in the air from a bar. the winner of that challenge gets a “benefit” (I haven’t seen enough to know what that means).

The hanging challenge was kind of interesting, seeing who could hang on and who dropped and when. But they divided into two groups of 50 and it spanned two episodes. Part of the intrigue is watching the people who are out of the game (because they dropped) react to the people who are still in.

The first actual elimination challenge sees 50/100 go home. It involves one to one combat, where the top 50 from the hanging challenge get to choose their opponent and the “arena” for the game — either an astroturf area with some obstacles and equipment, or a dirt patch with a muddy pool in the middle. The point of the game is simple, after three minutes in the ring, the person holding the ball (a large medicine ball type thing) wins. The loser has to smash their plaster torso and go home.

So it was this first challenge where they lost me, mostly because it’s just not interesting enough of a game for me to want to watch very many iterations of it. And also there just seemed to be more fighting than was necessary (though perhaps I underestimate how hard it would be to hang onto a ball and keep it for three minutes). Even with the added intrigue of who chose whom, interviews with the competitors in each match to hear what was going through their heads, and the other contestants watching and reacting as spectators, I got bored before the end of the second episode. The same game was going to spill over into the third and I just couldn’t.

Probably as an author for a feminist fitness blog I should have more to say of a critical nature than “I got bored.” I assume that the subsequent challenges will challenge them in different ways, where different bodies will face different advantages and disadvantages depending on what the challenge is. I also like that there is gender-diversity and the contestants challenge stereotypes, with some extremely hefty women bodybuilders, some small slight men, and some more androgynous athletes. I can’t say for sure that anyone identifies as non-binary, but many of the contestants defy gender-stereotypes.

I may go back to it at some point, but there is a lot of streaming content available these days. And right now, at the end of a long day the Australian dessert competition, Zumbo’s Just Desserts is winning out over Physical: 100.

competition · fitness · fun · soccer

Officiating in the Women’s “Chill” Soccer League (Part 5)

I sat down with Kayla Marcoux–a skilled soccer player, coach, and referee–who has officiated some of our Sunday “chill” rec soccer games. Kayla agreed to discuss her views on aggressive soccer and her experience as an officiant in our league. Note that we discussed our own views, which are not those of the BMO Center, Ontario Soccer, EMSA Referee, or Canada Soccer.

EP: Can you tell me a bit about your soccer career?

Kayla with the ball and goalie gloves

KM: I’ve played for 25 or 26 years now. I have played as striker, and I currently play as goalie. I am super passionate about soccer. I’ve also coached for 15 years.

After playing and coaching I figured the next thing to do was start reffing. I knew there weren’t a lot of female refs, and that didn’t sit well with me. Now, my friend and I and maybe one other are the only women refs who officiate in leagues at the BMO Centre.

EP: Can you describe simplywhat is aggression in soccer? When I think about what is aggression in soccer, I notice that sometimes more and less skilled players may see the other as being aggressive, for different reasons.

KM: It’s not a simple definition. For me, aggression is done with intent and has a lack of regard for the safety of themselves or the other player(s). It makes perfect sense to me that if players from different levels of skill play together, that the player who has less skill or experience could interpret a higher skilled or experienced player as making an aggressive play or challenge occasionally.

Since we cannot determine someone’s “intent,” we must consider their actions: are they trying to “run through people” or are they using their body to shield the ball and gain possession? Running through someone, kicking at their ankles or shins wildly trying to get the ball are examples of what I consider to be “aggressive.” Shielding a ball or going shoulder to shoulder chasing a ball down to me would constitute normal soccer play and not be deemed aggressive. Just because I see it that way, it doesn’t mean someone with less experience than me will see it that way. Opinions will differ for everyone which is why I find this hard to define.

EP: In a poll of the team captains in our “chill” league, some felt like there were too many calls on rough play. How do you call aggression in our league?

KM: Yeah, that’s interesting. It depends on the league. Every league has different calls. It can be a challenge to adapt to varying degrees and levels of play, especially in a league like yours.

Our role as officiants is to watch the temperature of the game but let play happen. Contact is a grey area, one opinion vs another. We normally watch for 50/50, but because there are so many variables we have to try to abide by the rules.

EP: I am afraid I need you to explain to me what you mean by “50/50.”

KM: 50/50 is two players from opposite teams who each have an equal chance of obtaining possession of the ball. But it’s not easy to judge what is equal because players may be of different speeds, sizes, and skill levels when they challenge or defend their possession.

EP: So you are reffing our games with that 50/50 idea in mind?

Kayla Marcoux at the London Optimist Sports Centre

KM: Yes, but that balance of power can change to 60/40 at any time. And that’s what we are looking for. If a player is defending very well, it might seem like a shift in power but really it’s just skilled play. They know how to move their bodies to their advantage. If a player is getting really frustrated, and their frustration builds up, it can also change how they play. They can start with elbows out or throw their body in the way, and that can lead to a collision. That becomes a safety issue. Body types can affect 50/50 challenges, but skill level and emotions can too. I’m not sure if that answers your question because it’s delicate. There are a lot of variables we are watching out for.

When I was asked to referee for your league for the first time, I was told that your players were really just out to get exercise and have fun, and that you didn’t want competitiveness and aggressive ball challenges. We were told this league was no contact at all. 

And then I reffed several more games, and I found that the teams were all kind of different. We don’t want there to be complaints for players not following the rules, but there should be some flexibility.

EP: Would you play in our “chill” rec league?

KM: No. Players should be classified appropriately for the leagues they play in. Me, I play in Second Division. I know that I don’t have the ability to bring it down. I would be considered an aggressive player in your league. So I’m better off to find people that are playing similar to me.

You can’t control what other players do. The onus is on the player to say to themselves, “Do I belong in this league or not?” If people aren’t getting what they want, there are many other leagues available at the BMO Centre that can allow players to find the level of play they are looking for & comfortable with.

But I did tell my mom about this league. “They are actually chill and very calm,” I told her, “and they’re here just to exercise and have fun.” If she were interested in playing soccer, she should come out to this league to play! 

EP: What do you think of reffing in our league?

KM: I’ve only reffed a handful of games so far. Everyone seems to be having a really good time. I’m on the field, laughing with everyone. I enjoy the games because there’s so much fun. I haven’t really seen any issues.

I like to talk to the players on the field, and have them talk to me because then I can keep an eye out for what they see as too much aggression. Of course, humans are going to make mistakes, but we as referees can respond to requests, so talk to us.

EP: What can refs do to support fun rec leagues like ours?

Kayla officiating a soccer game.

KM: Keep up with training. Stay on top of the IFAB rules and not become complacent. The rules change every year. Put player safety above all else. It’s our number one job.

Bring in referees that are like-minded and that want to officiate games at this level. Give them examples of situations that have happened, explaining what is okay and what is not okay. This can help us help you and your league.

It’s also a good idea to bring the officiants into the conversation. If you tell me what to look for, I’ll adjust my position to make sure I have a better view, and if I have to call something your team isn’t okay with, I’ll call it, no problem. For the most part, we’re all really easy to talk to.

EP: What can our league do to ensure its continued success in future seasons, in your opinion?

KM: A good conversation is easily had before it starts to get a sense of the team’s level of comfort with contact and what contact means to them. Identify what you are not comfortable with, and then bring it to the attention of the referee. If two teams are comfortable with a certain level of contact, then explain it. We want players to have a fun and safe environment but also be heard and feel like the officiant cares. Conversations can bring aggressiveness and animosity down. Even if teams don’t initially agree, they can come to a better understanding if we all talk and share our perspectives.

Maybe as well as make sure everyone else is signed on. Everyone signs something at the beginning of the season that says, this is what we all agree on.

EP: [Joking] Is it this complicated to be a referee for male soccer players in their leagues?

KM: In my experience, women are respectful and appreciative of having a female ref. I’ve had no grief or cattiness in this league at all or in any others.

In my opinion, women are superior players because we just go out and play and get the job done. When I officiate, most of the time everyone is respectful, but if I do get grief it is usually from the men. [Smiles]

competition · fitness · fun · goals · soccer · team sports

Checking in with the Chill Soccer League (Part 4)

We are midway through the season of a new +40 rec soccer league that over 100 women joined because they wanted less aggressive play. As I’ve reported in previous posts, there was an expectation that play would be less rough, but a series of decisions and limitations made it unclear (to me) what mechanisms would actually make that happen.

Has the league met expectations and achieved its goals? I asked the team captains their thoughts in a Facebook group chat they share.

Yes, Less Aggressive Play

Of the eight team captains who were polled, all agreed that the league was either a little or a lot less aggressive than other rec leagues they have played in (Poll 1):

Poll 1 of team captains

According to most team leaders, what has been different from other leagues is the higher frequency of penalty calls (Poll 2).

Some team captains also said they perceived more efforts of teams to be friendly. One or two captains said their teams talk with each other and the opposing teams about aggressive play.

Poll 2 of team captains

I think that team members talking before or during the game about their expectations (rather than just complaining after the game) shows goodwill and is more likely to improve league morale. Because aggressiveness is subjective, it can only help to have a more shared understanding of what aggressive play looks and feels like for each team.

A few captains added in the chat that their teams felt the league was fun. One captain said,

I think it’s going well, not as crazy aggressive as the other groups and no pressure we are just having fun and being active :)

Interestingly, no one said their own teams admit when they have been too aggressive. I didn’t ask whether it is because they genuinely don’t feel or notice when their play is too rough, or if it’s just not a good strategy for games.

Concerns and Reflections

Apparently rough play has not been fully eliminated: over the last few months, folks have brought forward concerns about a few aggressive players.

As league organizer, Cindy usually addresses concerns with team captains, who in turn speak with their own players. So, the process for dealing with the perception of over-aggressive play seems non-confrontational and a shared responsibility. As Cindy said, “Everyone is contributing to its success. It shows great community!”

While I expected Cindy to deal with these league issues kindly, I did not expect that over half of the captains would say “the refs also call out play that our team does not consider aggressive.” In other words, some feel that refs are making too many calls on aggressive play in this “chill” league.

Why might this be a concern for some teams? It can be difficult to avoid accidental contact on an indoor field. As well, some would say that defending space and moving into the opponent’s space is a normal part of soccer. And, every time a play gets stopped for a penalty, it’s less time to play soccer.

This idea that refs are calling aggression that players don’t agree to made me reflect on my own assumptions. A “rec league” suggests it will be social and fun, but for some women fun means competitive play. Have I been assuming that the only way to have a chill and fun league is to reduce aggression to the point of low or no contact?

I have noted in past posts that aggression is in part in the eye of the beholder. Those with less experience may see those with more soccer experience as aggressive, but the reverse can be true as well. At least the refs seem to be calling roughness due to unchecked skill and roughness due to lack of control.

ReDefining a League

This new rec league was organized by the criteria of age and intolerance for aggressive play, but there may be other ways to ensure safety but also give players what they want to have fun. One captain suggested to me that, instead of aggression level, league divisions could be based on experience or skill level. A beginner league for adult women of all ages could teach about safe play and what is appropriate contact. In such a league, frequent stops for penalties and game explanations might be more welcome.

At the same time, an adult beginner league begs the question of when someone is and no longer is a “beginner.” Sometimes experienced soccer players recruit their friends, and of course they want to play together despite skill level differences. (I’ve gotten better mostly by playing with friends more skilled than me.) It’s tough to make everyone happy.

If the “chill” league continues in another season, the norm for play might stay at low- or no-contact. In this case, how the game is played might need to change—and teams who plan to register in this league will have to be ready for that.

The beauty of sports is that they are what we make of them. According to most team captains, right now most members of this “chill” league seem relatively happy with the game that they have made together.

competition · death · Fear · fitness · health · motivation

Pain and the Human Playground (a mini review)

We watched the first episode of a fun documentary series at my house the other night, The Human Playground. It’s on Netflix, narrated by Idris Elba. There’s a book project of the same name released to coordinate with the Netflix series.

Cover of the book The Human Playground: Why We Play

We watched the first episode, Breaking the Pain Barrier which included a marathon in the desert, bullfighting, a brutal bicycle race, and ice swimming.

What was striking was that three of the four athletes featured were women

The first was Amy Palmiero-Winters who raced in the Sahara Desert, in Southern Morocco in the most painful marathon in the world, Marathon des Sables, French for “marathon of the sands.” It’s a six-day, 156-mile-long ultramarathon, equal to six regular marathons. One marathon a day for six days over blazing hot sand and yet there are hundreds of participants each with their own personal reasons for taking on this very painful challenge.

Needless to say we weren’t tempted and I’m still shocked that there are that many participants. It’s not the back to back marathons that make it look impossible but the conditions including the bright sun, the heat, and the scorching hot sand.

You can watch the documentary or read An Amputee’s Toughest Challenge Yet: Her 140-Mile Run in the Desert in the New York Times to find out more about Amy Palmiero-Winters’ motivations.

Amy racing across the hot red sand of the desert

Next up was cycling and the story of the famous very dangerous Paris-Roubaix race and its first women’s event.

The episode follows Ellen van Dijk, one of the first women to ever compete.

Why is this race so dangerous? It includes sections on ancient cobblestones, the bicycle’s worst enemy. This race is so bad it’s called the Hell of the North. There are numerous inevitable crashes and broken bones and damaged bikes. It looks terrifying to me.

Ellen van Dijk with mud and dirt on her white jersey and helmet and her face

The episode also includes the story of a woman who swims below the ice in bone chilling temperatures. And there was a dude who did some sport that involved risking his life dodging horned animals while unarmed. I confess I tuned out about during that bit. Not because the athlete was a man but I’m not a fan of sports that involve animals in combat.

Back to the theme of pain and suffering.

Now I’ve written about athletes and pain before. See Are athletes masochists?, Greetings from inside the pain cave, and Why are painful workouts so much fun? (And other questions about suffering and athletic performance). Also Sam thinks about pain, endurance, and performance (Book review in progress).

And I’m someone who has enjoyed her fair share of punishing workouts and pushing myself. That said, this show did not really help me understand the athletes who seek out the extremes. The ice swimmer’s story involved recovery from sexual assault and she sought out very painful (and very risky) extreme cold swimming as a way of dealing with trauma. But I worried she was going to die beneath the ice from passing out from the cold the whole time I was watching her swim. I thought, “get a therapist!”

The scorching sand marathon? No way on earth. And even the bike racing–the least deathy of the activities and most in my wheelhouse–didn’t appeal even though the worst case outcome involved broken bones and not death and there is skill involved in not crashing. The bike race and the horned animal avoiding sport at least looked like there was more skill involved than just your body’s ability to endure the extreme conditions but still, no way on earth…

Watch it and let me know what you think.

I asked Sarah who watched with me if the show either helped her understand the athletes’ motivation or tempted her to undertake such painful and dangerous sports. She’s promised me her two cents in a separate blog post.

Stay tuned!

competition · fitness · racing · Zwift

When is a race not a race? When it’s a ride. But don’t worry Zwift has lots of room for non racing, competitive impulses…

I’m riding the Tour of Watopia right now–having finished the Tour de Zwift last month, and in each event–in the chat waiting for the event to start, along with all of the cheers from various locations around the world–someone inevitably asks, “Is this a race?”

Answers appear fast and furious in the chat. On the one hand, it’s a tour, not a race. On the other hand, many people like to treat it as a race and think of themselves as racing. But thinking of yourself as racing doesn’t make an event a race and inevitably there’s conflict between those on the official line–it’s a tour, not a race–and those who like to treat the tours as races.

Some people think that any time there are two or more people riding bikes, it can be treated like a race. Now that’s obviously false because group rides are definitely not races. It’s rude to treat a co-operative group ride like a race. That’s bad form both in the real world and in Zwift. Group rides are not races. In Zwift, there are ride leads, with a yellow beacon, who ride at the front, and sweeps, with a red beacon, who ride at the back. In the real world, it’s also dangerous to treat a ride like a race.

Some events are clearly not races, see group rides above, and other events are clearly races. Events organized as races and as advertised as races–are definitely races. In Zwift, races use Zwiftpower for official results. There are rules that need to be followed, such as riding in the right category, sharing correct weight information, having a verifiable power source, or you risk disqualification. There are also rules for that particular race such as points for fastest through a segment, or first to the top of a KOM. For my guide to beginning racing on Zwift, see here.

Zwift’s Tours are not the usual group rides–no leads, sweeps, or advertised pace–and they also are not races.

Here’s the description, “The Tour of Watopia is a multi-stage journey on Zwift. All 5 stages will earn you double XP, shorthand for Experience Points. Collect enough XP and you’ll level up in the game. With new levels, come new in-game routes, products, and/or clothes.”

Q: Will there be races during the Tour?

A: No, but you are welcome to run/ride as fast as you like. These are group events and event results won’t be displayed at the end.

There’s actually a philosophical point here about the meaning of terms, and ‘race’ is ambiguous between meaning something that individuals do and an ‘event.’ Some people want to say that you can’t individually race unless the other person, or persons, you’re racing against agree to race. One way for sure to know they’ve all agreed is that you are taking part in a racing event.

You might know the frustration of not racing when others think you are. I used to be amused by guys passing me on the bike path and occasionally making comments about my go-fast bike going slowly, when I thought what I was doing was obeying the bike path speed limit of 20 km/hr. They thought we were racing and I thought I was riding inside the rules of the road.

On my former bike club’s weekend social rides we didn’t race–except for town sign sprints–and people who treated our club ride like a race, pushing the pace past our advertised speed were invited to come out for weeknight races. If you want to race, we have races, but this isn’t it.

Back to the Zwift tours, I think they are a bit like Grand Fondos–mass participation cycling events with the motto, let the racers race and let the riders ride. I blogged about the MEC one here, the Niagara Falls one here, and the County one here.

Zwift has a fair bit of activity that falls in the middle, things that aren’t official races and aren’t group rides either. For example, the leaderboards for KOMs and sprints when you’re just riding in the world, compare your time to everybody else’s. You might be trying to get the fastest sprint time while others are riding through the segment as part of their recovery ride. You’re racing in the sense that we might say we ‘race for the bus’ if we’re late in the morning. You’re racing but the bus isn’t.

Like Gran Fondos they provide for competitive opportunities for people with a competitive streak who don’t want, for whatever reason, to take part in organized races.

A screenshot of a Zwift ride.
competition · fitness · racing

Getting better through caring about getting faster: Skill development and reasons to race

I like racing and I like being part of sports communities where racing is part of what goes on, even if I’m not actively racing myself. I like watching races and marshalling. I like being part of a racing community. Part of the reason is that I’m a bit of snob, not about speed, but about skills, and the two things are connected.

Now it’s true I also like racing for its own sake. I’m often in the position of trying to persuade other people to give it a try. See Six reasons not to race and why they might be mistaken. Racing or not is an ongoing conversation at Fit is a Feminist Issue. We’ve written a lot about competition and racing here on the blog. Regular readers know that Kim has mixed feelings about racing. Tracy has written about racing anyway even though she knows she won’t win. I’ve recently written about why I love racing on Zwift.

In this post though I’m going to talk about one thing I like about racing. But to be clear I’m not arguing for it in the sense of giving reasons that others need to accept. If you don’t like it, that’s just fine too.

My suspicion is that lots of women might like it but don’t think it’s for them. See my post Where are the women?

When some people talk about the benefits of racing, they focus on the value of testing yourself and developing your potential as an athlete, but the benefit I want to talk about is about is community and skill development.

I’ve been part of recreational racing teams as a road cyclist, a track cyclist, a dinghy sailor, and briefly as a rower.

I like it best when teams race regularly, recreationally, against one another. You get to know people and learn a lot from one another. We don’t think about that as part of competition but it’s very much the case for recreational racing.

In communities where everyone who has a road bike starts out racing, you find that people are pretty skilled riders. Racing teaches you to ride around corners and to ride closely with others, to descend at speed and to climb efficiently. It’s true you can learn these things without racing but racing communities tend to focus on skill development. You get an awful lot of practice even if you only race for a little while.

An aside: I also like it when club social rides and races are clearly separate things. You can tell the guy (why is it always a guy?) who keeps pushing the pace and riding off the front, to cool his jets and come back on race night if he wants to race. You can say, decisively, this is the team social ride. There is a time and place for racing and this isn’t it.

Back to skill development. This is even more true when it comes to dinghy sailing. You learn to sail by learning to race. Once people can do the basics then you go out to club races once a week and follow along, watching what other people do, accepting friendly suggestions from other racers, and competing against other novice crews at the back of the fleet. Racing means you get good at maneuvering near other boats and good at getting the boat in and out of the water in all sorts of conditions. If you’re not racing there is no reason to tack cleanly and quickly. These skills are useful for all kinds of sailing but it’s racing that encourages their development.

This also all true for rowing. There may be recreational sailors and rowers who’ve only ever recreationally raced or sailed but I suspect there aren’t very many.

You might only want to ride a bike, row, or sail for fun but for most people, you learn the foundational skills to do these things well, through racing.

Sam and Sarah snipe racing. It’s a light wind day and no one is going anywhere very fast.
competition · fitness · Guest Post

I am a curler: ‘A What?’, you ask?

I am a curler, and I’ve been curling since I was 12 years old. Some of you may know my sport. Others may be wondering about what it is or have a vague idea that it is an Olympic sport played on ice. In our household, when we ask Alexa what its favourite sport is, the reply is this; “Curling is my kind of game, it’s like chess on ice, if chess was played with tiny brooms”. As scary as it is that Alexa responds to us this way, we have often referred to the strategy involved in curling as, ‘chess on ice’. Good curlers think three to four moves in advance as they plan their play. Curling brooms aren’t that tiny though. They are about four feet-long, they are made of a light durable material with a fabric bottom that is used to brush the ice surface. Curling is a difficult game to explain, and I can’t do it justice here. If you want to learn more, check out the World Curling Federation’s 2-minute guide to curling.

            One member of the team directs the play, a second throws the curling stone, and the remaining two members of the team sweep. Photo credit: Robert Davies

Since 1988, when curling was a demonstration sport at the Calgary Olympics, it has been the brunt of jokes. Late-night television hosts and comedians seem to get a big kick out of it (see Ellen Degeneres, James Corden, Stephen Colbert, and Rick Mercer to name a few). It has made appearances on The Simpsons, The Little Mosque on the Prairie, and in several movies (e.g., Help) and songs (e.g., The Weakerthans’ Tournament of Hearts). In the best-case scenario, my sport is depicted as a novelty, but in most cases, it’s seen as a bit of a joke. Just last week, Saturday Night Live made fun of curling after NBC pulled their broadcasting of the International Olympic Qualifying tournament because it had a sex toy company as one of its leading sponsors. This is a story so interesting that it deserves its own post!

Am I offended by these jokes? Not really. Whenever curling gets mentioned or when I see images related to curling, I get excited because it means that my sport is no longer ignored. But it is odd to be an athlete who plays a sport that most folks either don’t know about or don’t take very seriously. Yet, the fitness, agility, strength, precision, and mental resilience required to curl should not be discounted. My family and I have taught a lot of athletes from other sports how to curl, and without exception they say “this is harder than it looks”. A few former NFL players decided to get a team together so that they could represent the United States at the Olympics in curling. That didn’t go so well.

Images of curling rocks used to identify physical distancing in Vancouver.

My Nova Scotian curling team recently competed at the Canadian Senior (aged 50 and over) Women’s Curling Championships. As an aside, the title sponsor for this event is a funeral concierge service, which makes most of us laugh. We played 12 games (each game lasts about 2 hours) over 6 days and finished with a bronze medal. Bronze medal games are tough but I’m proud that my team hung in there. On our way home, we arrived at the Toronto Airport and of all days, the escalator to get to our gate was broken. Ouch!, is all I have to say about that.

Team Nova Scotia after winning bronze at the Canadian Senior Women’s curling championship. Four very happy women! Photo Credit: Curling Canada

I am an old (er), competitive curler, and I love my sport. My relationship with curling has changed over the years but my identity as a curler has not. I’m becoming very interested in how athletes age within a sport and how this relates to their identity. But more on that another time.