athletes · feminism · fitness · media · men · sex

Six things Catherine loves about Heated Rivalry

Is there any such thing as too much publicity? The current craze over the sexy-sweet-Canadian-hockey show Heated Rivalry is definitely putting that question to its test. My social media feed is full to the brim with interviews, photos, behind-the-scenes articles and loads of social commentary (most of it positive to the point of gushing) about this series that follows two young hockey stars as they explore their attraction into hookups in bed, matchups on the ice, and their deepening feelings for each other.

Everyone and their cousin has written about Heated Rivalry. And I think I may have read 90% of those articles. Including this one from the Guardian, which panned the series when they reviewed it in early December 2025 (shame on them for not having any artistic/cultural vision!). Here’s what a 64-year-old non-profit executive from Toronto had to say about the series in the article:

Mary, who asked to be identified only by her first name, discovered that a sexually explicit love story about two men was “for her” after all.

“I admit I may have rewatched it more than once,” she said. “It’s super sexy. They’re fabulous to look at. There’s a huge amount of consent. I’d really like to get that back in my life – that feeling of ‘I can’t keep my hands off you.’”

Mary, I am 100% with you on this.

If you’re interested in an interview with Rachel Reid, Canadian author of the book (part of a series she wrote called Game Changers), you can find it here.

I feel compelled to add my own observations about what I love about Heated Rivalry, in part because my head is kind of swimming about it, and also because, as a part of the Fit is a Feminist Issue journalistic team, I’m committed to report to you, dear readers. So here goes.

NOTE: I’ll try not to drop spoilers here. But honestly, does anyone not know (or can guess) how this series plays out?

One: I love that the Heated Rivalry team isn’t budging on talking about the main actors’ dating or sex lives. The show is not about the actors; it’s about the characters. And the actors’ lives are none of our damn business. Talented and hunky veteran actor Francois Arnaud said as much in a interview with Andy Cohen. Good on you, Francois.

Two: I love that multiple languages– English, French, and Russian– in the show, are used in ways that feel authentic. There’s not as much French in the show as there is in the book (of course I’ve read the book by now; duh); many players switch back and forth between French and English, and I am guessing the author Rachel Reid gets this right. Shane, the Canadian player from Ottawa, speaks both English and French, and uses them often in the series.

But mainly, I love that Ilya, the Russian character, uses Russian and English in ways that reveal his personality. He struggles with English sometimes as a non-native speaker, but his playful mocking humor comes through clearly. And he uses Russian (WATCH EPISODE FIVE NOW!) powerfully and tenderly. My heart is fully open to Ilya.

Three: I’ll just mention this to avoid spoilers, but, from episode six, I totally love STUPID CANADIAN WOLF BIRD.

IYKYK.

I’m ordering one of these T shirts as soon as I finish writing this post. My friend Norah told me she saw one of the yoga teachers at our local studio wearing one.

Stupid Canadian wolf bird T shirt. IYKYK.
Stupid Canadian wolf bird T shirt. I must have this. They also do mugs, if you prefer.

Four: the soundtrack is fabulous! It’s a combination of older and newer pieces, even using Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata as accompaniment to Ilya’s Russian dialogue in episode five (which you need to watch ASAP). I’m still singing along to this cover by Feist of Sea Lion Woman (spelled See-Line Woman when Nina Simone recorded it). I missed it when it came out, so I’m glad to hear it now.

Five: I love how this series and these young lovers are making me feel. About love, about sex, about evolution and acceptance. And all this at a time when things are really falling apart. It’s not just a respite; that it surely is. But it’s also offering a note of hope. Call me sappy and naive, but I’m loving the love on the screen and the love piled on by just about everyone who’s seen or read this story. Clearly we needed it.

That Guardian article I mentioned above is worth reading for its reporting on reasons why women are responding so positively to a gay male sex and love story. There’s lots for think about here, and I may write more about it. For the moment, though, I’m just going to bask in the feelings, deferring analysis until later.

Six: Heated Rivalry has me thinking I need to up my sexy time game. Watching this show, I’ve rediscovered all kinds of feelings that I tend to associate with my teenage years: head swimming with images, heart full to bursting, and loins fully activated. This was surprising but not at all unwelcome. By the way, I blogged about self care and solo sexy time here ten years ago. Maybe it’s time to go back to the store to see what new products they have developed in the meantime.

Readers, are you watching Heated Rivalry? What do you think about the show? What do you think about the media carnival about the show? I’d love to hear from you.

Oh, and here’s a super-cute Instapic of the actors hamming it up for the camera.

athletes · fitness · gender policing · interview · media · normative bodies · weight loss · weight stigma

Some favorite 2024 podcasts for your listening pleasure

CW: some of my recommendations talk about body size, weight loss, fat phobia and weight discrimination. But luckily not all of them…

I love listening to podcasts in the car during my commute to and from work, and especially on long car rides as I go visit friends and family. Here are a few I’ve really enjoyed this year:

Death, Sex and Money— I enjoy this podcast, especially Anna Sale’s sensitive and curious interview style. This episode is one I’m still thinking about (and starting to write about, too): Will he still love me when I’m off Ozempic?

Weight for it— One of the panelists on the above-mentioned podcast is Ronald Young, creator and host of the podcast Weight for it. If anyone you know is fatphobia-skeptical, play them 5 minutes of this episode and they’ll be cured forever. It’s about weight discrimination by the airlines and airline passengers. I wrote about this abomination on the blog a while ago here. But you can listen to Ron and also Aubrey Gordon (host of great podcast Maintenance Phase) here: Into Thin Air

Field Trip— I blogged about this podcast last summer while I was driving to and from western New York State. I loved it so much, it convinced me to plan a trip to see nature in Florida this winter. And I did– I’m going to see manatees in February! More on this later. The episode about Everglades National Park is my favorite (obvs) but all of them are great. They illuminate the complex history and rich experience to be had in national parks.

Tested podcast by the CBC–this podcast six-part series is about sex testing in women’s athletics. It offers some historical information and tracks the stories of some elite female runners whose biology conflicts with (outdated and false) views about what women athletes should be. Definitely worth a listen.

Wiser than me with Julia Louis-Dreyfus–I’ve only listened to a few episodes of this podcast, but I’m lookin forward to hearing more as I travel for the holidays. In eachof them, Julia has long, satisfying conversations with older women who have important, funny and insightful things to say. From Nancy Pelosi to Jane Goodall to Patty Smith to Billie Jean King, there’s an interview to suit everyone’s interests and tastes.

Readers, do you have any favorite podcasts you listen to and swear by? There are so many out there, I’d love to hear what you’ve found.

fitness · media

Four podcast episodes to keep you company while traveling (even if to the grocery store)

Podcasts are one of my favorite new-media creations. I mean, the sheer variety of topics and arbitrary specificity you can sink into on a podcast is dizzying. I don’t consider my listening habits extremely eclectic, but in the past year I’ve learned more than I expected about eradicating smallpox, how to survive in a lifeboat at sea, what counts as improperly influencing jury selection, and the great joy in taking a road trip with your grandmother.

Here are four podcasts, all of which are talking about books that either I have read or plan on reading as soon as possible. All are written by women working on responding to big obstacles that keep us constrained physically, geographically, vocationally, psychologically.

We’ve written a lot about self-care in many modes: where we’ve looked for it, how we have found it (fleetingly, but still), critiquing the idea of it on equity and privilege grounds, what to do when you can’t engage in it, etc.

One of my favorite podcasts, NPR’s Code Switch, had an episode last week critical of the notion of self-care, with ideas about what to do instead. It featured Dr. Pooja Lakshmin talking about her new book on the topic. Her opening salvo, “you can’t meditate your way out of a 40-hour work week with no childcare.” Listen and see what you think.

Another favorite, On Being, played an interview with Sara Hendren, author of What Can a Body Do? How We Meet the Built World, Hendren is a design professor at Northeastern University questions, according to the show notes, “why we organize the physical world around vulnerability and needs for assistance are not commonplace– indeed salutary– forms of experience that reveal the genius of what being human is all about.” Yeah, what she said. Check it out if this sounds appealing.

Sometimes we all need a break from looking inward and just want to listen along to a good story and chuckle. If that’s where you are, I got you– listen to this interview of comic genius Leslie Jones on NPR’s Fresh Air podcast. Jones has her own particular way of being Leslie-Jones-positive that we can all learn from. She’s got a memoir out, and, although I don’t think I can write the title in this blog, here’s an adorable picture of her from the cover.

Little Leslie Jones, looking like a natural with that mic in her hand.

The Exra Klein Show takes on big and hard and complicated issues, so it’s a place I go when I’m looking for an extended conversation about something that merits deep thinking. One of the most interesting interviews he did this past year (IMHO) was with professor and author Kristen Ghodsee about the past and potential future of communal living. She wrote a book that I’ve really enjoyed called Everyday Utopia: What 2000 Years of Wild Experiments Can Teach Us About the Good Life. I admit that I’ve always been drawn to sharing space and things with others– not just family. Some of us bloggers talk, only half-jokingly, about establishing a feminist tiny house commune one day, complete with bikes and sports equipment shed (a big one), library, big communal social and eating spaces, etc. Ghodsee and Klein work through some of the obstacles and solutions of making stronger communities. I recommend both the podcast and the book.

Readers, what are some of your favorite podcasts? Why are they favorites? I’d love to hear from you.

inclusiveness · media · sexism · team sports

Sports Podcasts and Gender Unawareness

I recently listened to an episode of Adam Grant’s podcast Rethinking, entitled “Life lessons from sports,” featuring Jody Avigran. Avigran is passionate, fast-talking ex-athlete and sports commentator who has a new podcast called Good Sport. This was one TED podcast boosting the signal of another.

Avrigan’s Good Sport podcast is about the deeper meaning of sports. In the Rethinking episode, he says stuff like this:

You’re telling me that the thing that is really fun to do, that like keeps me in shape, […] will also teach me like, how to be a better human and how to like trust others and how to build teams? And like is a place where I can also like, figure out all these things about the real world, which I’m gonna have to go back to anyway at some point?

I am on board with Avrigan’s idea that sports can teach us about how to be good humans, good team players, and a good supporters of others. It’s what FIFI is also about, in my view.

I also found myself interested in Avigran’s focus on not only the brilliance of top-tier athletes but also the communities that nurture athletes, the supporting role that high-impact coaches play, and those who are the keepers of team culture, which Avigran describes as the “glue guy”:

I’m very fascinated, and I like asking athletes of all stripes: who’s actually the person who, who brings you all together? Who’s actually the star in the locker room? You know, they call it “glue guy” […].

To illustrate, Avigran describes the Miami Heat’s Udonis Haslem, and Grant supplies former MBA player Shane Battier, as another example of a glue guy.

And I started thinking: Glue guy. Glue guy. Glue girl? When are these two seasoned podcasters— who are nerding out on the “life lessons” sports teach us—going to give examples of female athletes, female coaches, women’s teams, and gender (diversity) and sports? Why would a 40-minute episode on what sports teach us about ourselves and our world not reference a single person from over half that world? Did Grant or Avrigan even notice how this podcast advertising another podcast would appear so gender unaware?

I scanned the Good Sport episode titles and found one called The Past and Future of Gender in Sport. Okay, that sounds good. But, in 2023, are female athletes and women’s sports teams only mentionable in the solitary “gender in sports” episode, or can we also normalize gender inclusive examples in every episode?

I realize I am drawing conclusions about the enduring gender unawareness of sports media based on a single episode of one podcast and a quick scan of another. But if I want to learn more about glue girls in team sports (which I do), how many podcasts will I have to comb before I find that information?

@samanthabrennan has recommended to me The Gist, and I also found the Women in Sport podcast. FIFI readers, what other inclusive sports podcasts would you recommend?

Error and Update:

I apologize for including in my post an ableist expression to convey my negative view of sports podcasters who fail to include gender and gender diversity. The expression was disrespectful and has been removed. It’s an important reminder to me, as the author writing about the very topic of inclusion in the media, to be vigilant about ensuring that what we (including me) say and write in the public sphere does not exclude or diminish others.

Today I listened to Adam Grant’s Rethinking episode featuring soccer star, author, and podcaster Abby Wombach, which was brilliant and awesome and everyone should listen to it.

fitness · media

Limitless with Chris Hemsworth: a review

If we’ve learned anything as a planetary collective in the past almost-3 years, it’s that we live with limitations: with finite and seriously unevenly distributed resources, we’ve run up against hard limits on who gets vaccinated and how quickly, who gets treated for illness, who gets aid during a global crisis, who is allowed to work from home to be more protected, etc. The notion “limitless” seems naive and quaint, a 20th-century idea reserved for space exploration and early cancer research.

But “limitless” is back, this time riding in on a TV series hosted by Chris Hemsworth, the Australian actor who (among other things) has been busy playing Thor in Marvel series movies. I’ve watched all the episodes except one.

Content Warning: the episode I didn’t watch was about the alleged benefits of fasting. I won’t be reporting or commenting or devoting any blog space to such behaviors.

Full disclosure: I enjoy the Marvel movies, for all their flaws. And I admit to enjoying watching the magnificent Chris Hemsworth perform athletic activities on land, sea and air. That said, I’ll press on.

Okay, one more side observation: in the Hulu advertisement for the series, the picture of Chris looks eerily like a younger David Hasselhoff, of Baywatch and Knight Rider fame. See for yourself.

The show’s premise is what Chris Hemsworth should do about approaching 40 as an action movie actor, family man and mere mortal. We get treated to a jumble of reality-show-style challenges, rushed training sessions, and boiled-down motivational advice from a raft of specialists.But mostly we’re there for Chris himself, watching him live though painful physical training, absurd environment conditions, intrusive questioning, and difficult news.

Here’s a list of feats attempted in the series:

  • walking across a crane on top of a tall building (while harnessed)
  • swimming in Arctic waters to a buoy offshore
  • climbing a 100-foot rope dangled from a tramline in the Blue Mountains (also harnessed)
  • navigating a two-day bush walk with a friend without a map
  • confronting his own decline and death through a bunch of elaborately staged stunts

For the first three on the list, there are topic experts, coaches, friends and family and others clustered all around supporting him, helping him process whatever issues come up around the feat: fear of heights, drowning, injury, weakness, aging, loss of control, death, to name a few. There are takeaways– for him and for us– at the end, like “add two sessions of meditation or two sessions of swimming or one session in nature with family per week”. Unlike some celebrity-focused shows, there don’t seem to be product placements– no GOOP-style gadgets or ointments or elixirs or potables on offer. Whew– that’s good. And honestly, marketing box breathing and cold water immersion seems mild and benign enough.

The last two episodes are not like the others– there are no dedicated training sessions or takeaways. Instead, Chris confronts and processes feelings of his own vulnerability and mortality with us and more experts. No spoilers here, but I’m guessing that if any of us subjects ourselves to extensive testing on multiple levels, something’s bound to crop up.

There’s something refreshing about sharing a protagonist’s thoughts and feelings as they are confronting dramatic events. But, as this is a so-called reality show, and one designed to disarm us by making us privy to Chris Hemsworth’s thoughts about his life, health, family and future. The producers and experts are sending us a message about our ability to smooth out our responses to fear, anxiety, aging, even death. They offer us tips on how to extend our health and longevity.

To me, this suggests that we, the audience, have more control over our lives and our fates than is actually true. Yes, perhaps we can get used to perilous heights or develop super-core strength. And we will want to respond in constructive ways to news about health risks and health conditions as we age. I think acceptance of limits, creative thinking around alternatives and development of support around limitations is more sound. Chris Hemsworth may be doing just that. In short, the show is ill-named: “Limitless” is not at all what it’s about. Beneath the surface, it’s “Living with Limits”. Which is what we all do everyday.

clothing · fitness · media · research

Sports Bra Drama

I usually pay little attention to sports bras, as I don’t seem to need much support and the one I wear is based on whether or not it is clean. Any love I have for sports bras comes wearing them exclusively since giving up underwire padded bras during the COVID-19 pandemic. Sam put it best here: “I’m still in love with lots of my formal work clothes but never again will I wear a bra that pokes in my ribs.”

I am a no-sports bra drama kind of person.

Bras Win Euros?

When I read the headline of the The Guardian article, “Secret support: did prescription bras help Lionesses to Euro 2022 glory?” I rolled my eyes at the sensational lead. Way to diminish the accomplishments of female soccer athletes. Would a male soccer player’s win be attributed to his underwear if he ran around in them after a winning game?

I have already written about how media commentary athletes’ bodies can reinforce gender stereotypes, undermine women’s athletic performance, or both. Our FIFI bloggers have also explored the topic of sports bras and athletic wear, highlighting the challenge of fit, double standards, and other gendered nonsense.

The Guardian’s headline led to more than sensational bra talk. The article described the findings of what little sports bra research is currently available: poorly fit bras can shorten women’s strides up to 4 cm. A seemingly small measurement, but “marginal gains” can add up to a big impact when it comes to athletic performance.

My Bra-Nundrum

When I am in a sports store, I walk right by the sports bras section, eyeing its wares with equal parts suspicion and derision. I am stubbornly uninformed about sports bras because I believe the industry is exploitative: the more women need these products the higher the price they seem to be charged for them. Brand logos inflate prices further. It’s all a bra racket to me.

But as I read article, my mind wandered to my own sad collection of stretched-out or over-tight sports bras I have acquired over the years. If I am honest, most of my off-off-the rack sports bras don’t fit or support me the way they probably should.

four sports bras on a table
Left to right: A black sports bra that is literally spandex; a grey sports bra from Goodwill (lost padding); a teal sports bra I have had since my 20s, a newer yellow sports bra that does not fit because it was an online impulse buy. Not shown: the one well-fitting sports bra own, worn wearing while taking this photo.

The article made me wonder: By not buying quality sports bras, am I forfeiting some comfort and performance out of principle? Did the purported bra drama lead me to realize that maybe I should invest in research-designed sports bras…because gender equality in sports research is a principle I believe in too?

The Need for (Some) Bra Drama?

It’s not new news (to me) that the Lionesses’ custom sports bras would fit better and be more supportive than those found in the bargain bin. And it’s also not newsworthy that the “prescription” outer- and under-wear articles for which elite athletes pay top dollar remove some impediments to their performance.

The real newsworthy story is the paucity of research on the fit, comfort, and support of women’s athletic gear, which includes sports bras. Women’s sports continue to be seen as second-class, right down to the lack of substantial research on an clothing item so clearly necessary for so many women athletes.

It’s a little sad that this disparity needs a woman athlete celebrating in a sports bra to draw attention to it. Perhaps The Guardian article is a fine piece of feminist sports journalism precisely because the sports bra drama is leveraged to spotlight the (lack of) research of athletic clothing design for women.

Let’s hope that an increase in research sports bra design eventually leads to better sports bra products for everyone—so that more than just top female athletes can perhaps get their 4 cm back when they play.

What’s your take? Does media sports bra drama usefully draw attention to the need for more research on women’s athletic clothing? What factors do you consider when you buy sports bras?

fitness · habits · media · time

Nearly half of British women don’t exercise? The Internet has thoughts

A few days ago, a new survey published by Nuffield Health, the “Healthier Nation Index” made headlines in several UK papers: “Half of British women do no regular exercise”, and several permutations of this. Apparently, according to The Guardian, the study finds that “many lack motivation or got out of the habit during lockdown”. Unsurprisingly, the Internet has thoughts on this.

Tweets range from “no shit, Sherlock” responses like this one

to “there’s something seriously wrong with the way this is being reported” like this one:

and everything in between. Not to speak of the fact that if 47% of women don’t work out regularly, 53% actually do, so there’s a bit of the good old “only bad news is good news” thrown into the mix as well.

There are several themes to the rightful complaints about how this data is being reported and picked up by the media:

In addition to all these, one thing that bothers me about the reporting on these is how it individualises the problem by claiming that “women lack motivation” when really, to a large degree its societal constraints that cause the gender gap here. Well-meaning initiatives like the UK-based “This Girl Can” campaign reinforce the notion that all women need to do is “get out there” and “make the time”, “start small”, etc. But what if you really don’t have the time? This is the case for so many people, especially women. What if by the time you get home from your full-time job, have maybe cooked dinner, done some cleaning, put the kids to bed if you have them and so on, you’re dead tired and all you want is your bed or the sofa? What if you have health conditions that diminish your energy levels? Especially for single parents or people who can’t afford to outsource their housework, this is reality.

For me personally, especially since having a child, yes, it is to some degree a motivational issue. But I, too, despite my enormous privilege – an incredibly supportive partner, childcare, household help, etc. – I often find myself too tired at the end of the day. You can’t just rustle up some motivation if you’re running on empty. (And no, I won’t “just get up earlier”. This woman needs her sleep.) I do feel like even for me, some of this is due to societal gender roles. My husband, for example, finds switching off and taking time for himself much easier than me. I always feel like I need to double-check that it’s really ok to go for a run, or feel a bit guilty for working out instead of doing chores. Part of this is personality-based, but it’s also education and socialisation.

The way these survey results have been reported is beyond unhelpful. It’s not fair to put the responsibility for not working out fully back on women and make sound like it’s their own fault. That’s victim blaming. Ugh.

body image · golf · media · men

Athletes’ Body Talk in the Media Serves No One

On a recent Sunday I was doing two things I rarely do: 1. watching pro golf on TV, and 2. complaining loudly at the TV. Why I was watching golf (the 2022 US Open, final round), I’m not really sure. But I do know why I was complaining.

Image by rawpixel

I was complaining because the broadcasters were making comments about the bodies of the pro golfers as they teed off on the first hole. One player was described repeatedly as “baby-faced,” another was “slender,” and a third was “sturdy.” Maybe it was just a lazy start to the commentary, but with all the history and statistics available to discuss, who is served by this body talk?

Televised commentary on athletes’ bodies is a much more prevalent issue for women, one that creates a double standard to boot. As Kathita Davidson notes, descriptions of male athletes’ bodies often reinforce perceptions of strength, athleticism, and performance. In contrast, the descriptions of women athletes’ bodies are often hetero-sexualized in ways that undermine their athleticism. As well, non-binary gendered and intersex bodies are the almost nearly always the subject of controversy and discrimination.

Body talk happens in the media at all levels of game. In the last year, two commentators were fired for making disparaging comments about high school basketball players’ bodies. At the 2021 Winter Olympics, there was pressure to focus on sports appeal and not sex appeal of the athletes. Not long after, an Olympics figure-skating commentator was fired for a degrading remark about a female Canadian figure skater (though it was about her personality, not her physique).

Focus on the bodies of athletes is not only a frequent issue but a problem, as Christine Yu observes:

Aerobic capacitypowerstrength, muscular endurancebiomechanics, strategy, tenacity, and good genes—none of which are necessarily visible to the human eye—all determine an athlete’s ability. And yet, especially with women athletes, appearance often becomes the sole focus, even when it has nothing to do with performance. This overemphasis on what athletes look like is damaging on both an individual and a cultural level, and it’s time to reconsider how we talk about their bodies.

Christine Yu, 2020, para.6

The emphasis on appearance and physique can be damaging to men and boys as well. The American Addiction Center has an article of men and body dysmorphia disorder (BDD) that highlights bigorexia, combining the Latin -orexia (an appetite for) with obsession over the big-ness of muscles. This disorder causes pain, distress, and sometimes harmful physical and dietary changes, and men are far less likely to ask for help.

The pro golfers weren’t listening to the broadcasters’ body talk as they teed off at the US Open’s, and they might not have cared about what was said.

Still, thousands of aspiring male golfers were watching and listening to the televised patter about bodies that had nothing to do with the game. By drawing attention to who is slender, sturdy, or baby-faced, the broadcasters invited body comparisons and scrutiny—to no meaningful end.

So, ultimately this post is just a reminder to anyone who gets an opportunity to talk about any athletes in front of a microphone: Focus your comments on athletic performance, not on athletic bodies.

Image by @midsizequeens
advice · Dancing · Fear · fitness · media

Bad Dancing

FIFI bloggers have shared many beautiful and uplifting posts about the aerobic, aesthetic, historical, cultural, and social aspects of their dance and dancing.

But I want to talk about bad dancing. Not defining what is bad dancing (too subjective, or in the case of trained dancing, too specialized). Rather, I want to consider how we respond to the fear of bad dancing in social situations that can creep on the edges of our minds before, during, or after we dance.

Dancing, the media, and us

If you’re of a certain age, a single one word brings to mind the epitome of “bad dancing”: Elaine.

Elaine dancing, from Seinfeld.

If you’re not quite at that age, but close, here’s second word that sums up dancing so bad it’s good: (the) Carlton.

Carlton dancing, from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.

Both tv sitcom clearly characters find joy and freedom in their dancing. Yet, these scenes also capture some not uncommon worries about dancing: folks laughing behind our backs without our knowledge (like Elaine), or being seen and judged when we dance (though I realize that race, class, and culture ground the joke of Carlton dancing to a Tom Jones song as well).

The media not only reflects but can also amplify our worries. Elaine’s scene reminds us that wedding and parties are places where dancing is a social expectation. We might start to compare our dancing with the many mainstream media celebs and performers who dance with more style and grace (thanks to professional training). Also, there are TikTok dancers around to remind us how much money we are not making from our own dancing.

I bet my non-existent jazz flats that—even those with actual dance training—most folks at some point have wondered whether they were a bad dancer, or if others might have thought so. Just last week, after a fun house dance night with about 12 people I avoided watching the phone videos that were shared around because I didn’t want to watch myself, or see others watching me.

Am I a bad dancer? Part I

How do we respond to fears of being regarded (or regarding ourselves) as a “bad dancer,” or at least not a very good one, when dancing in social settings?

There are lots of ways, most of which fall somewhere between the Elaine (totally surprised/defensive) and Carlton (hyperaware/embarrassed). Read on to see what strategies you have used, and let me know what I have missed.

  • You can seek out ways to reduce your inhibitions to care less about how you (or other) feel about your dancing. “Liquid courage” is a common method. There’s even a study that suggests that if you find the “platform of effective intoxication,” alcohol can actually make you a better dancer.
  • You can choose ironic dancing, an exaggerated form of dancing that is intentionally self-deprecative, as this DJ describes. (Think the Robot, the Sprinkler, or any other passé dance craze). Some may interpret your ironic dancing as making fun of not yourself but them on the dance floor.
  • You can accept that you are not a trained dancer, but dance anyway—just for fun, relaxation, or exercise. Perhaps you are someone with the congenital condition known as beat deafness, in which you cannot distinguish rhythm or move in time to it.
  • You might get constructive and practice dancing, as suggested by the advice in this Steezy blog post: take time watch online dance lessons, practice in front of a mirror or in safe places with friends, and take in-real-life dance classes.
  • You may embrace your dancing as a form of resistance or protest—to white/middle-class/ableist dance norms, the hyper-regulation of bodies, and other forms of systemic injustice. I will never forget for the first time watching Childish Gambino (Donald Glover) in his music video “This is America” (warning: violence)—his dancing had me re-thinking my assumptions about what dancing is, who dancing is for, and why dancing is such an important form of representation and resistance in BIPOC communities. (See this Atlantic article for more.)

Am I a bad dancer? Part II

Upon re-watching Elaine after her let-loose dance scene, I didn’t find myself sharing in her friends and employees’ teasing. Rather, I wished Elaine would have taken her own advice from her wedding toast: “Here’s to those who wish us well. And those who don’t can go to hell.”

In her post Bad Dancers?, dance and fitness instructor Karen Kiefer writes, “A dance floor will always have people with different styles and knowledge levels about dancing: which doesn’t mean they are good or bad dancers, just people enjoying themselves for an evening.”

This is a reminder to you (and me): when you have an Elaine and Carlton-level love of dancing, don’t ask the question—because then the answer doesn’t matter.

media · soccer · team sports

Fitness in Ted Lasso

In Apple TV’s Emmy-winning show, Ted Lasso (TL), the titular character is a goofy, Kansas-born football coach who must adjust to a very different life as head coach of a pro football (North American soccer) team in England.

Screenshot of Ted Lasso Talk Facebook group
Screenshot of Ted Lasso Talk Facebook group

I watched both seasons, then I joined ~22K fans in the Ted Lasso Talk FB group. Some fans of not only the show but also the sport of football discuss with enthusiasm actors like Cristo Fernández (Dani Rojas) who are real life football players, and parallels with real-life players and actual British clubs.

But you don’t need to be a football fan to participate in the lively conversation. TL fans love to ask and answer questions about all aspects of the show (many have watched both seasons multiple times). So I asked folks to share what they’ve noticed so far about any representations of exercise and fitness.

[WARNING: Modest show spoilers]

Exercise Made Fun(ny)

Coaches have to find the right words to inspire their teams during practice. Here are a few of Ted’s choice expressions to get his team in action (crowdsourced enthusiastically by the FB group fans):

  • “Your body is like day-old rice. If it ain’t warmed up properly, something real bad could happen.”
  • “Touch your toes. Now touch each other’s toes! Your feet fingers!”
  • “Making quicker transitions from offense to defense. Y’all gotta start making your hellos your goodbyes.”
  • “We all know speed is important. But being able to stop and change directions quickly? Well, that’s like Kanye’s 808s & Heartbreak. It don’t get nearly enough credit.”
  • “We’re gonna call this drill ‘The Exorcist’ ’cause it’s all about controlling possession.”

Ted doesn’t use the traditional language of training and exercise; rather, he makes quirky comparisons and memorable pop culture references to get his team moving.

What Fitness Looks Like

All the players on the fictional AFC Richmond team appear physically fit. In the locker room scenes, outfit changes reveal lean, muscular, ready-to-run bodies. A few times we see players using the treadmill and free weights, but there aren’t a ton of game, practice, or training scenes that highlight the pro players’ peak athleticism.

Instead, as one TL fan noticed, in the S2 finale it is the rival football team that is shown doing physically intense calisthenics (while Nate, recently defected from AFC, looks on). By comparison, Ted has his team on the pitch practicing a choreographed dance routine to N’Sync’s 90s hit song, “Bye Bye Bye.”

Other fitness activities portrayed relate to characters’ hobbies and social lives. The sports psychologist loves cycling. The gruff former star player-turned-coach shares a weekly yoga practice with retired women (then drinks rose wine with them afterwards). Ted is a crackerjack darts player, and he walks to work with his Assistant, Coach Beard. There are some pre- and post- sex scenes. So mostly, it’s regular people fitness.

Nutrition and Food

Representations of food and eating in TL do not follow sports nutrition myths, fads, and stereotypes. The players scarf fast food kabobs, drink beer in the locker room and out at the bar, and share potluck dishes they bring to a holiday meal. There is no excess of supplements, restrictive eating regimes, or protein shakes.

Coach Ted is as sweet as the food he shares and enjoys. He brings club owner Rebecca Welton home-made biscuits (sugar cookies) everyday. On the topic of sugar, Ted says, “I’ve never met someone who doesn’t eat sugar. Only heard about ’em, and they all live in this godless place called Santa Monica.” And on his favourite dessert, he says, “Ice cream’s the best. It’s kinda like seeing Billy Joel live. Never disappoints.”

The Fitness of Teams

In this sports dramedy, characters manage the stress not of the daily grind of elite level fitness training but of various personal issues and relationships. Although they come from many different countries and ethnic backgrounds, the team players chat, bicker, and support each other as a team. As one TL Facebook group fan responded, “I love how fitness is not the centre of the story. Football and exercise are their job, but community and relationships are the centre.”

This LA Times article interviewed pro soccer coaches and players who are also TL fans because of the way the show features the interpersonal and psychological aspects of team play. The article quotes one American men’s national team coach who says that the strength of TL is not football itself but rather everything around football: “I don’t watch the show for what I see on the field. That’s not the point […]. But I think, in any sport, a lot of team success is what happens in the locker room. And they get that absolutely right.”

So, with the help of the fan group, I have discerned that TL is not, ultimately, a show about the fitness of professional football. However, there’s much more to say on how TL represents team dynamics, psychological health, and gender in sports. But I’ll have get back to you on those topics—after consulting further with my 22K fan friends.