Category: Weekends with Womack

Weekends with Womack

Bibs vs. bike shorts for women: no contest, the bibs have it

catherine w13 Comments

This week I got my newest bibs in the mail and tried them out.

No, I don’t mean the ones to minimize baby meal mess.

I mean something like these:

bibs-mine

In nature, with a person in them (in this case, me) complete with jersey, helmet and bike, they look like this:

me-in-bibs

Many readers of this blog who are cyclists or triathletes no doubt already own cycling shorts. And if you ride a bike often but haven’t taken the spandex plunge, I can’t recommend it highly enough. Wearing spandex shorts makes cycling so much more comfortable in lots of ways. They provide coverage and a smooth and tight fit without seams, chafing, flapping, etc. And of course the chamois inside provides a bit (but not too much) padding to make extended saddle time comfortable.

Well, if you liked cycling shorts, you’ll love bib shorts. I bought my first pair a couple of years ago and almost never wear my regular cycling shorts anymore.

Why, you might ask?

On principle of not reinventing the wheel here, another cyclist blogger has already made the general case for bib shorts here.  However, my favorite reasons for wearing them are the following:

Advantage 1): They are very well-behaved and stay in place—no tugging, hitching, or pulling needed.

Advantage 2): They help provide full coverage during a ride, even if your jersey rides up or moves around, because they are higher waisted (with no waistband, just continuous fabric through the suspenders).

Advantage 3:) They feel smoother, sleeker (perhaps even a teeny bit faster), because they’re a little tighter and hold you in place. For me, bibs on the bike make me feel like a speedo does in the pool—sleek and smooth, rather than flappy or scrunched or wadded up. The fabric is taut and held in place by the suspenders, and the jersey lies flatter against it.

Advantage 4): Some bibs even come with a little radio pocket. And if you’re not busy using it to for your race radio to get tactical advice from your team manager, you can use it to stow your phone. That’s handy.

In fairness to opponents of bib shorts, though, here are some standard objections to them, along with my replies.

Objection 1): Bibs make bathroom breaks a big pain.

Reply 1): In some ways, yes—you have to take off your jersey (which may not have a full zipper, as most women’s jerseys don’t, for reasons which passeth understanding). But you get used to it, and honestly, the no-waistband feature makes them easier to get smooth when putting yourself back together.

Objection 2): Bib shorts are hotter than regular shorts because of the extra fabric for the suspenders and higher waist.

Reply 2): Honestly, when I’m cycling, I sweat a bunch anyway, so I can’t really tell that bibs are any hotter than shorts. I’ve even mountain biked in the summer in them, when one gets maximally hot, and they seem about the same. Pro cyclists wear them, and even wear an under layer beneath their jerseys, and they don’t seem to mind. So there…

Objection 3): Bibs often cost twice as much as regular cycling shorts.

Reply 3): Yep, that’s a fact. But if you’re into cycling, this shows that you’re already willing to lay down some serious money for a recreational sport. Take heart—at least cycling gear and equipment costs less than polo, Formula one/Grand Prix auto racing, and yachting. That’s something. Besides, they do go on sale—I got a deal on two pairs last week.

Objection 4): So if you like bibs so much, how do you account for all those sex-kitten photos of women wearing them topless?

Reply 4): You know, not everything is my fault. Besides, bibs don’t exploit women; stupid cheesecake photographers and misogynistic marketing people exploit women.

One last bib shorts etiquette note: if you’re likely to be photographed wearing bibs (and about to cross the finish line, triumphant), make sure to zip up your jersey first.  Don’t let this happen to you:

jersey unzipped

So readers:  do you wear bibs?  Do you hate bibs?  Do you wish all your pants had suspenders?  I’d like to know.

Weekends with Womack

Repeat after me: Athleticism is beauty. Athleticism is beauty. Athleticism is beauty. Athleticism is beauty…

catherine w23 Comments

Serena Williams, one of the greatest tennis players of all time, just won the women’s singles title at Wimbledon.

Again.

For the sixth time, actually.

That’s like, five times. And then again. For a total of six times.

six

Serena Williams is one of the great athletes of our time, and one of the greatest tennis players ever. But alongside the story of her win, what else does the New York Times– the paper of record—see fit to print? This story.

In this story ,“Tennis’s Top Women Balance Body Image with Ambition”, many of the world’s top women players interviewed said, in effect, that having the muscular world-class athletic bodies they have makes them feel “unfeminine”, as 14th-ranked Andrea Petkovic said.

“People say, ‘Oh, you’re so skinny, I always thought you were huge,’ ” she said. “And then I feel like there are 80 million people in Germany who think I’m a bodybuilder. Then, when they see me in person, they think I’m O.K.”

Heavy sigh.

Okay, let’s deconstruct this statement to see what’s going on here. Here are some assumptions I found:

  • Being skinny is OK (read minimally acceptable).
  • Being “huge” is bad.
  • Being perceived as a bodybuilder is bad.

Let us remind ourselves that this is coming from a woman whose tennis acumen is ranked 14th ON PLANET EARTH. Despite my intense racket-sports envy of her accomplishment, I feel both sympathy and frustration at what such comments likely accurately reflect about the culture that she navigates.  And this is the culture that we navigate, too.

Serena herself is affected by such assumptions. How can this be? I mean, glorious kick-ass-take-no-prisoners-forget-wearing-all-white-I-look-fabulous-in-orange-and-pink-on-center-court Serena? The woman who wore this at the French Open while firing a bullet serve?

serena

Serena Williams is now in position to be the 4th woman in history to win the Grand Slam of tennis in singles this year (The Australian Open, the French Open, Wimbledon, and the U.S. Open).  By the way, there have only been three Grand Slam winners in men’s singles (two actually, as Rod Laver did it twice; also, my first tennis racket was a Rod Laver, but I digress…)

But this is what others are saying about her the very day she won Wimbledon:

Not all players have achieved Williams’s self-acceptance.

“That is really an important acceptance for some female athletes, that their best body type, their best performance build, is one that is not thin; it’s one of power,” said Pam Shriver, a former player and current tennis analyst.

Shriver, who cited Angelique Kerber and Sabine Lisicki as similarly powerfully built, believes Williams’s physique and confidence should serve as an example to others.

“The way Serena wears her body type I think is perfect,” Shriver said. “I think it’s wonderful, her pride.”

(taking deep breath)

Okay, let’s look at this more carefully– what assumptions lie beneath these statements?

  • Serena Williams’ body is one that requires a conscious attitude of self-acceptance, which suggests that it would otherwise be reasonable to expect her to be unaccepting of it.
  • Power in a woman’s build is in opposition to thinness– if you’re powerful, you’re not thin, and vice versa.
  • In most contexts, thin is better than powerful for women.
  • Even in professional sports, women with powerful bodies must acknowledge, justify, and defend those bodies, as well as deal with lack of acceptance by others.
  • Serena’s body type requires cultivating pride in a way that’s out of the ordinary, not automatic, but praiseworthy (albeit in a grudging and condescending way).

Note that these claims are made about a woman who wore this dress to the Oscars this year:

Screen Shot 2015-07-11 at 10.50.16 PM

I included this picture because this discourse about Serena’s body as being deviant, as

1) a woman’s body;

2) a professional athlete’s body;

3) an attractive woman’s body

is one of the many reasons why I’m glad this blog and this community exist.  We can celebrate Serena’s accomplishments and beauty in power and motion.  We can also celebrate ourselves in our own glorious athletic beauty, like this bunch of Kincardine tri- and duathletes.  Congratulations, and I look forward to reading all about it!

wpid-fb_img_1436651967018.jpg

Kayak Love: the Early Days
Weekends with Womack

Kayak Love: the Early Days

catherine w2 Comments

These days, seems like several of the Fit is a Feminist Issue bloggers are engaging in a variety of summer water-related activities. Natalieh just blogged about her love relationship with swimming here. Samantha, too, is testing the waters of her local pool. Her recent blog about her relationship with swimming is here. Tracy has blogged about the sheer joy of swimming here.

I agree with Tracy about how swimming can bring back those childlike feelings of freedom, a time to “shed or at least park my worries”, as she said in her blog. For me, swimming feels like a way to defy gravity—when I was younger, floating or swimming underwater, I pretended I was flying. And these days, floating in the middle of Walden Pond, looking up at the sky, I feel like I’ve stepped outside of time, suspended in a moment of pure satisfaction.

walden

But in practice, I’m not a great swimmer; my breathing cadence is not as easy and regular as it should be, and although it can get better with practice, I’ve not yet done the work to get to that point. Sometime…

But right now, my attention has been caught by kayaking (again). I blogged here about some experiences with kayaking years ago. Thanks in large part to the efforts of my friend Janet, I’m back in the cockpit again! We signed up for a 2-session intensive sea kayaking course that includes navigation, sea rescues (less dramatic than it sounds), and techniques for handling kayaks in the ocean. It starts in a week and reports will be forthcoming.

But today was all about the kinder, gentler side of kayaking. My friends Janet and Steph and I rented kayaks for a lazy trip down the Charles River on July 4th. I packed a picnic lunch, and we set off. There was no agenda other than a bit of forward progress and a lot of idle conversation. Much of it involved pointing out the many ducks, geese, herons, egrets (and one swan) whose routines we were rudely interrupting. We didn’t even bother taking many pictures, although Janet snapped this one of Steph and me:

kayak-gals

The Charles River twists and meanders its way throughout greater Boston, so much of our 8-mile round trip was by parks (both municipal and trailer) and also alongside wetlands, industrial areas and people’s backyards. We saw a Dunkin Donuts on our way back, so pulled the boats ashore at a park across from it for our picnic lunch, a pit stop, and quick caffeine hit. This was not exactly an experience of nature at its most pristine. Still, urban outdoor experiences have their virtues, among them that they are easily accessible to lots of people, many of whom we greeted as we paddled.

When we returned the boats a scant 4 hours later (the time had floated lazily by), the kayak outfitter pointed out to us that IF we purchased a season pass, then if we booked this trip here, we’d break even on the cost of the pass. And we could use it for as many times as we liked, taking out single kayaks, double kayaks (thus bringing more friends into the mix), canoes, and stand-up paddle boards (an activity I’ve yet to try).

In our post-trip, floaty, holiday euphoria, how could we argue? We all three ponied up and duly purchased season passes. And I’m happy to report that no buyer’s remorse has set in—in fact I’m psyched to get back out there on the water.

In case you’re interested, here’s a short article on some of the health benefits of kayaking. This is good news, of course, but today, it was all about the kayak love.

peace-kayak

Food Fighting—when we say no to “good” food and yes to “bad” food
Weekends with Womack

Food Fighting—when we say no to “good” food and yes to “bad” food

catherine w18 Comments

This week I’ve been reading and writing about intuitive eating, and thinking more about the meanings food has for us—the humans. I’ve been blogging a bit about this lately here and here.  What we eat, why we eat what we do, and what food does for us are all really fascinating and complicated questions, with no easy or one-size-fits-all answers. Our families, our cultural, ethnic, racial, regional and national traditions, our cooking know-how, our incomes, our biological variations—all these contribute to what we eat and what it means to us.

Lately I’ve been thinking about food as resistance, food as anti-authoritarian means of control, food as a way of acting out against, well, whatever. This reminds me of a scene from 1953 movie The Wild One, with Marlon Brando. The scene is here and the quote is this:

Mildred: Hey Johnny, what are you rebelling against?

Johnny: Whadda you got?

brando

Maybe Brando didn’t have this in mind, but food is a prime way of rebelling against whatever they got.

Catrin Smith has a really interesting article on women prisoners’ attitudes about food in prison. They have two sources of food—the prison cafeteria, which serves institutional, non-tasty but supposedly nutritionally balanced food, and the prison store, which sells cookies, chips, and other snack foods, which are high in sugar, salt, and fat content. In nutritional terms, the cafeteria food is “good” and the store food is “bad”. However, Smith found in her interviews with the women prisoners that

“Prison food is frequently defined as ‘bad’, in that it remains symbolic, irrespective of its actual quality, of disciplinary control. Here, controlling a prisoner’s intake of food can be seen as an important means of exerting power in a context in which a woman is rendered a subject to the regulations of the institution. Women prisoners are relegated to a child-like state – told when and what to eat – and food becomes associated with penal authority and denial.

Not surprisingly, prison food and eating practices, in turn, become a powerful focus of frustration and anger. At the same time, ‘bad’ food, as defined in dominant nutritional discourses and the women’s own accounts, becomes a source of pleasure (hence ‘good’), not least because of its taste but also because of its very power and status as ‘forbidden’.

Attempts to control the diet of women prisoners so that they ‘conform’ to the imperatives of the institution, or even, for that matter, to the demands of ‘good health’, may therefore be resisted or ignored in favour of the release offered by ‘unhealthy’ food and dietary behaviour.”

This phenomenon is pretty common—we see “good” food resistance also in students who reject or throw away cafeteria food, resulting in lots of waste and also loss of nutritional intake. What are they eating instead? A la carte items like fries, burgers, pizza, chicken fingers, for one.

friesFor another, lots of schools get revenue from vending machine purchases of sodas, energy drinks, and all kinds of snack foods.

vendingPolicies vary a lot from school to school about student access to vending machines, but they are a part of student eating in many schools. Also, many high schools have policies allowing students to eat off-campus, at places like McDonald’s play place.

I remember well that feeling (for me, starting in college) of freedom to go where I wanted, select my own meals, and control when I eat and how much. It was for me in some ways a vehicle for rebelling against parental authority. My mother denied my sister and me regular access to sugary cereals, snack cakes, chips, candy, etc. Of course this was for our own good, but when I got to college and went to a friend’s apartment, I remember seeing this in his kitchen cupboard. (imagine Little Debbie Cakes here).

Now, I don’t actually LIKE this kind of food (probably because I didn’t develop a taste for it, courtesy of my mom’s oversight—thanks, Mom!). But the IDEA of it seemed transgressive, rebellious, bold.

One of the primary tenets of intuitive eating is that no food is prohibited, even Little Debbie cakes or this new burger, recently unveiled by Hardee’s in the US, which features a beef burger, hot dog and potato chips, all housed in a bun.

I know that for some situations in which I desire some nutritionally “bad” foods, I will want to exercise some external control, follow a rule or nutritional guideline, and not buy or eat those foods. An example of this (for me) would be when I pass by the chips aisle in the grocery store. However, for other situations, I know I will want to go ahead and eat some of the foods I consider to be “bad”. For instance, if I’m at a birthday party, I will always want some cake and ice cream. The difficulty is figuring out how to regulate those processes so to be able to exercise my judgment in accord with my own desires and values and health goals.

Bottom line: it seems to me that I need more strategies than those provided by intuitive eating in order to deal with the issue of when-to-eat-rebelliously and when-not-to-eat-rebelliously.

Readers, do you ever eat “rebelliously”? I’d love to hear any comments you have.

Weekends with Womack

Shake it up, baby: finding new active activities

catherine w17 Comments

This weekend I was at a party with some old friends I’d been house mates with back in the 80s. Some of you readers may not remember the 80s, but those were the days of perms and poodle hairdos. Lucky y’all.

At this party, former house mate Nancy told us about a friend of hers who is in physical therapy for arthritis in her ankle. The therapist told her to do two things:

1) get outside each day to do some activity;

2) learn something new each week.

Nancy’s friend, who must be a conscientious sort, set about to do just that. With respect to 2), she has so far tried a few new things. She rented a bike and decided to relearn how to ride. Apparently there were some hitches in the proceedings, which necessitated walking the bike back to the shop a few times (e.g. chain fell off), but eventually she was rolling down her local bike path. The following week she bought a basketball, went to a local outdoor court, and got some kids to teach her how to shoot hoops. How cool is that? Next week she plans to go kayaking with Nancy.

Is this a great idea or what?

As much as I love my primary sports (cycling, squash, cross-country skiing in winter), it’s possible to get in a sports rut. And lately I’ve been feeling a little restless, not knowing exactly what I’m looking for, but casting about for some novel experiences. Nothing radical like running off to join the circus, mind you, although they do teach trapeze courses in Boston and my friend Steph assures me it’s big fun.

trapeze

Well, flying through the air with the greatest of ease is probably not my thing, but I am trying a couple of activities that feel new-to-me, as I haven’t done them in a long time.

First up is an ocean kayaking skills course. My friend Janet signed both of us up for a 2-day ocean kayaking course that takes place actually in the ocean. I say this because lots of ocean kayaking courses are done in rivers and lakes, as it’s quieter, easier and less daunting for beginners. I’ve done some ocean kayaking and even blogged about it here. But my skills are rusty and also limited—I’ve never done an assisted rescue at sea, much less a self-rescue in the ocean.

assistsolo

But we’re going to learn these skills and much more. I’ve always wanted to take a sea kayak trip off the coast of British Columbia, paddling near orcas. Doesn’t this look awe-inspiring?

orca

Yeah, it scares me a little, too. But it’s exciting to move outside your comfort zone, develop some new skills, check out a completely different sports subculture. Starting with the summer course seems like a move in the right direction.

The second new-to-me activity is much less thrilling, but nonetheless something I’ve not done in years: running. Well, more like jogging. I’ve never ever been a runner. Even while training for a couple of triathlons about 10 years ago, I swam and biked, but didn’t run much at all. I sort of jogged a little and hoped for a miracle. And it was a minor miracle that I finished the running sections of those triathlons…

But recently I’ve been curious about running: wondering if maybe, if I actually train, maybe I could in fact finish a 5k sometime. It turns out there are apps for precisely this goal. I just started using the Couch-to-5K app, about which I’ve read some positive reviews. I’ve finished the first 3 workouts, and so far so good. The whole program is 9 weeks long, so we’ll see how this goes. If by then I can actually run/jog 5K, I may enter a race in the fall. What an idea—I never thought I would choose or be able to run a 5K race. Just the feeling of wanting this and trying it out is new and different.

Who knows how each of these new activities will go? Who knows what goals I’ll meet or what my skill or interest level will be in a few months? But for now, it’s enough that I’m shaking it up.

Weekends with Womack

The Case for Riding in the Rain (at least in summer)

catherine w8 Comments

This week I was about to depart for a road ride, when I looked out the window and the weather looked downright unpromising—gray, some storm clouds, a little breeze, and very humid in that it’s-about-to-rain sort of way. There was a weather advisory, predicting thunderstorms after 3pm. And it was 12:45pm already. Hence my dilemma.

But then I thought, you know, there are a bunch of reasons to embrace riding in the rain. So, in accordance with Samantha’s rule of six, herewith six reasons to ride in the rain (at least when it’s warm outside).

Number one: Riding in the rain is badass.

badass

This fact is documented in The Rules for cyclists. I quote from their explanation below:

…Those who ride in foul weather – be it cold, wet, or inordinately hot – are members of a special club of riders who, on the morning of a big ride, pull back the curtain to check the weather and, upon seeing rain falling from the skies, allow a wry smile to spread across their face. This is a rider who loves the work.

Number two: Riding home in a rainstorm is likely to increase your speed, provoking an impromptu high-intensity workout.

cover-rain

On my rainy ride this week I totally hauled it both out and back. On the way out I was trying to get to my turnaround point before the first drops hit, and then on the way back was trying to see if I could beat the rain home. I didn’t, but by then I was in the mood for some serious cranking, so I got a most excellent workout.

Number three: If you’re a) not in a hurry, and b) into accessorizing, riding in the rain presents you with intriguing gear options.

There is a saying (which the internet says is either Swedish or Norwegian) to the effect that “there is no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing (or bad gear)”. In addition to the usual rain pants/rain jacket combos around, I found a number of rain-protection garments and accessories for those willing to stand out in the commuter crowd. You can be little red riding hood in this:

cycling-hood

Or you could try this:

rain-screen

And of course, for those rain classicists, there’s the handlebar-attached umbrella.

unbrella

She doesn’t look very dry, but it’s quite the snazzy setup.

Number four: Riding in the rain gives you an opportunity to engage in exercise of attitude adjustment through force of will, a skill that will come in handy in other situations.

Life presents us with lots of irritations and minor challenges: traffic, noisy neighbors, extra work assignments, clogged sinks, etc.  Raining on one’s bike parade seems like one of those irritations. Especially on a long ride, it can feel like this:

negative

Of course sometimes the rainy weather really gets out of hand. My friend Pata blogged here about a particularly wet and muddy trek on her 2012 cross-country ride with her partner; here’s what she faced that day:

pata

However, barring washed-out non-roads and torrential downpours (by the way, they got saved by a good Samaritan in a red pickup truck), a rainy ride can be rather pleasant.

positive

Number five: Riding in the rain is easier than riding in the snow.

Now that we’re well into June, many of us may have forgotten this:

snow

That’s actually a picture of a side street in Boston in February. There was no bike commuting, much less road riding, for weeks, except for a very few intrepid (read foolhardy) folks with studded tires or fat bikes. So in comparison, a little rain is nothing to fuss about. And remember, it’s warm outside…

Number six: Riding in the rain is a good excuse for singing in the rain. This is guaranteed to make your day sunnier, no matter what. What’s good for Gene Kelly is undoubtedly good for you, too.

Hidden values in intuitive eating, or can I eat a Big Mac intuitively?
Weekends with Womack

Hidden values in intuitive eating, or can I eat a Big Mac intuitively?

catherine w15 Comments

A couple of weeks ago, I posted here with some worries about intuitive eating, which is a key component of the Health at Every Size (HAES) movement. Here’s another brief installment.

There are a lot of things to love about HAES—it’s body-positive, emphasizing weight and body and self-acceptance. It also promotes physical activity of all sorts, stressing that bodies of all shapes, sizes, and capacities can be physically engaged, active, and fit. And this blog is all about that, as am I.

But their emphasis on intuitive eating gives me pause. In my previous post, I listed the principles of intuitive eating from a book about it that Tracy discussed here .  Here they are again:

  1. reject the diet mentality
  2. honor your hunger
  3. make peace with food
  4. challenge the food police
  5. feel your fullness
  6. discover the satisfaction factor
  7. cope with your emotions without using food
  8. respect your body
  9. exercise: feel the difference
  10. honor your health with gentle nutrition

All of these make a lot of sense as a reaction to the feelings of deprivation and anxiety that often result from dieting.   I mean, who wants to be stuck eating only this all the time?

sad

Intuitive eating is supposed to liberate us from the tyranny of all-salad-all-the-time. Of course I love salad as much as the next person, although maybe not as much as all those online happy women alone eating salad.

But sometimes I really want a burger and fries. Or cake. Or doughnuts. Or tempura. Or fried dumplings. Or macaroni and cheese. Sometimes I really want foods that I know are not especially healthy for me, are very calorie-dense, are highly processed, and which contain a lot of sugar, salt, fat, simple carbs, or other ingredients that I know play a part in overeating or unhealthy eating FOR ME. Like these:

bad food

And yet at the time I want them. I really want them. I want them now. There’s no ambiguity about this at all. And when I eat them, I feel satisfaction.

Of course, the intuitive eating plan has a response to this feeling of wanting these sorts of foods—you invoke rule 7: cope with your emotions without using food, and also rule 10: honor your health with gentle nutrition.

My problem here, though, is this: my feelings or intuitions about what foods I happen to want at any given time are not always very fine-tuned. Yes, of course, we can often recognize feelings like the rush of momentary desire that results from say, walking at a street fair and smelling fried dough or cotton candy and thinking, “wow, wouldn’t it be great to have something like that?” For me, I try to acknowledge that feeling and keep walking past booths like this one:

fried dough

I do so because I really subscribe to rule 10: honor your health with gentle nutrition. But there are also times like this past week when I was out and about, wanted a late lunch, passed this place in Harvard Square and thought to myself, oh yeah, I’d love a burger and fries. That sounds perfect. And it was– I ordered the People’s Republic of Cambridge burger with cole slaw and Russian dressing. Eating it felt fine and satisfying and yummy.

The problem is, my intuitions about what I want at any given time may lead me to gentle nutrition, but I know for a fact that they also lead me to corn dogs. In order to say no to corn dogs (which, for me, is what I would like to do in general for a bunch of reasons), I have to enlist other faculties:

  • my powers of judgment
  • my knowledge about nutrition
  • my desires to develop and maintain patterns of healthy eating FOR ME
  • my will to override any other momentary desires (or peer pressure, or other emotions triggered by the presence of some food)

Enlisting these faculties means ignoring or overriding messages from my body or my feelings or my intuitions or my desires. Of course we all know this—it’s no news. But it does present me with a problem: in the moment, it can be very hard to distinguish between eating intuitively and eating in a way that runs counter to my desire to honor my body with gentle nutrition. In order to make a judgment call at the time, I have to go outside the intuitive eating paradigm and invoke standard nutritional rules, like the one that says, “give me a break—corn dogs? Really? I don’t think so.”

I’m still thinking and working on these ideas, so I welcome others’ experiences and comments here.

Finding Cycling Strength in Numbers
cycling · Weekends with Womack

Finding Cycling Strength in Numbers

catherine w10 Comments

About a month ago, I wrote a post on Cycling (not) by the numbers in which I made the case for just cycling without measuring anything. No mileage, no miles per hour, no time, no average heart rate, no personal bests, no watts, no nothing. Just me and the bike, headed down the road. Here’s what I said:

It’s been a very work-intensive school year, and I haven’t been able to really relax mentally or physically. Right now, the last thing I want is another set of reporting requirements for leisure time activity.

So what’s a stubborn cyclist to do?

Get out and ride—no expectations, no goals, no numbers. I want to rediscover the fire inside, the motivation, the joy, the pain (yes, that too) and the satisfaction that comes from getting sweaty, gritty, greasy, muddy and happy on a bike.

Yes, I recall writing that. And feeling that. And doing that, too. I added that I’d report back (but with no statistics). So here’s my report.

report

It seemed like a great idea, just letting myself ride when I wanted, where I wanted, as long as I wanted, without feeling obligated to keep track, do training rides, set up any external expectations or goals. In effect, I was trying to embrace Intuitive Cycling (by the way, I just made up this term).

What could Intuitive Cycling mean? Taking a cue from the notion of Intuitive Eating (which I wrote about last week here and am still working on), maybe something like this modification (from Tracy’s original post):

  1. reject the training mentality
  2. honor your need for various types, intensities and durations of cycling
  3. make peace with your speed, whatever it is at the time
  4. challenge the Strava police
  5. feel your fatigue on the bike (and stop when you want)
  6. discover the satisfaction factor: know when your ride is long enough
  7. cope with your emotions without using your Garmin all the time
  8. respect your body, whether you are in or out of the saddle
  9. exercise: feel the difference between different routes, modes and times for cycling
  10. honor your health with gentle motivation for the cycling you want (and don’t want)

While some of my alterations are a little tongue-in-cheek (#4 is for you, Samantha!), the idea behind this sort of cycling was to take all expectations off the table and just focus on the experience of turning the cranks, looking around at the scenery, and enjoying moving through space.

Well, how did it go?

Honestly, it was kind of a bust.

Not this sort of bust:

bust

Rather this.

Meaning this:

thumbs

Why? A number of factors contributed to my failure to complete a month of spontaneous intuitive cycling. These included having caught a cold, battling more than usually fierce allergy symptoms, dealing with big work pressures and work travel, and letting life complications sap my enthusiasm for movement. On any given day, my verve for cycling was not very high, and since I didn’t often feel the intuitive urge for movement on two wheels (due to stresses, time crunches, etc.), I didn’t actually ride much.

However, this week I did two 25+ mile rides, and was on the bike a bit in addition. How did that happen? I went to Cape Cod for a mini-break with my good friend and cycling buddy Pata for a little R&R (relaxation and riding). We had a lovely ride together on the Cape Cod Rail Trail.  Here’s a nice water view from the trail, which is flat and very pretty (if rather pollen-y this week).

water

Pata suggested to me that if I wanted to get in better cycling shape, maybe I should start easy, with say two 20+ mile rides this week, and see how that goes. What a sensible and doable idea, I thought! Of course, this would mean reengaging with numbers on the bike:

  1. Distance traveled during a ride
  2. Number of rides completed during a seven-day period

Yes, I thought, I can do that. I want to do that. I can hold myself accountable to that. So I did, riding 26 miles with Pata, and then 25 miles Saturday. The latter ride wasn’t pretty—it was solitary, sweaty, pollen-y, and I had to stop twice because my saddle kept slipping (despite my repeated efforts to tighten and retighten the seat post bolt. Argh.) Still, I got it done. And I feel great about it.

It’s certainly true that we need to listen to our bodies, our inner voices, our intuitions about how we are feeling. And it’s good to let go of external constraints and expectations and just be in the moment, doing what our feelings dictate. But for me right now, I’m extremely happy to take up some cycling techniques that actively require use of—yes—numbers:

  1. Making training plans
  2. Planning and meeting short-term goals
  3. Planning and preparing for longer-term goals
  4. Committing to some group rides
  5. Committing to riding for X miles at a time, Y times a week
  6. Track my progress on distance, time, even (gulp) speed
  7. Reassessing and increasing those short-term goals as I meet them
  8. Seeking out support from other cyclists when my enthusiasm or energy is flagging

Once again, I’ll report back on how this new strategy goes. Until then…

Colds and exercise: working through it vs. waiting it out
Weekends with Womack

Colds and exercise: working through it vs. waiting it out

catherine w10 Comments

Colds are annoying.

sniffles

There’s never a convenient time for them; either you’re super-busy and have to cancel or reschedule a bunch of commitments, or you’re finally free to do something fun (like ride, or hike, or swim, or go to the beach), but you can’t because you’re feeling logy and stuffy-headed.

logy

I’m bummed because: 1) my spring semester has finally ended; 2) the weather is very fine and great for fun outdoor activity; but 3) I just came down with an awful cold. So, 4) I don’t feel like moving at all right now.

But I was wondering: what kinds or amounts of exercise can I and should I do while I’m sick? I decided to ask the internet.

One of my favorite science and health writers, Gina Kolata, weighed in on the subject a while ago here.  It turns out that there are very few studies that have investigated the effects of colds on exercise. Kolata talks about one of them below:

The first question was: Does a cold affect your ability to exercise? To address that, the researchers recruited 24 men and 21 women ages 18 to 29 and of varying levels of fitness who agreed to be deliberately infected with a rhinovirus, which is responsible for about a third of all colds. Another group of 10 young men and women served as controls; they were not infected.

At the start of the study, the investigators tested all of the subjects, assessing their lung functions and exercise capacity. Then a cold virus was dropped into the noses of 45 of the subjects, and all caught head colds. Two days later, when their cold symptoms were at their worst, the subjects exercised by running on treadmills at moderate and intense levels. The researchers reported that having a cold had no effect on either lung function or exercise capacity.

“I was surprised their lung function wasn’t impaired,” Dr. Kaminsky said. “I was surprised their overall exercise performance wasn’t impaired, even though they were reporting feeling fatigued.”

He said he also tested the subjects at different points in the exercise sessions, from moderate to intense effort, and found that their colds had no effect on their metabolic responses.

So, inasmuch as we can learn something from one study, this one suggests that having a cold doesn’t necessarily have to slow us down. But does exercise actually help us get better any faster? Kolata discusses this, too:

Another question was: Does exercising when you have a cold affect your symptoms and recovery time? Once again, Dr, Kaminsky and his colleagues infected volunteers with a rhinovirus. This time, the subjects were 34 young men and women who were randomly assigned to a group that would exercise with their colds and 16 others who were assigned to rest.

The group that exercised ran on treadmills for 40 minutes every other day at moderate levels of 70 percent of their maximum heart rates.

Every 12 hours, all the subjects in the study completed questionnaires about their symptoms and physical activity. The researchers collected the subjects’ used facial tissues, weighing them to assess their cold symptoms.

The investigators found no difference in symptoms between the group that exercised and the one that rested. And there was no difference in the time it took to recover from the colds. But when the exercisers assessed their symptoms, Dr. Kaminsky said, “people said they felt O.K. and, in some cases, they actually felt better.”

In this study, exercise didn’t seem to have any effect on duration or intensity of colds, but it might make some people feel comparatively better.

The Mayo Clinic is a little more conservative in its advice about exercising while sick. Their website suggests that if symptoms are “above the neck” (e.g. sniffles, headache, etc.), it’s fine to exercise, but if symptoms are “below the neck” (e.g. coughing, chest congestion, upset stomach), it’s better to rest until those symptoms subside.

The past two days I’ve been home in bed. I’ve watched approximately 14 hours of Downton Abbey episodes, taken in lots of fluids, slept 11 hours a night (plus naps), and done nothing much. I have both above- and below-the-neck symptoms (stuffy nose, headache, plus coughing).

Still, maybe some movement is in order. Tomorrow I will take a nice walk in this park after church with Dan, knowing that, well, it can’t hurt…

Screen Shot 2015-05-16 at 9.20.58 PM

fitness · Weekends with Womack

Today Fat Yoga, Tomorrow Fat Kayaking? Some thoughts on Kayaking While Fat, Safe Spaces, and Inclusiveness

catherine w16 Comments

Sam’s recent post on fat yoga raised some thorny questions for me this week (which, for philosophers, is pretty much a sign of “Mission Accomplished”, so thanks, Sam!) Honestly, I’m not even yet sure what these questions are yet. So it seemed like the best thing to do was to start writing, and see what came from it.

This blog has spent a lot of airtime talking about these issues, with respect to size, age, (dis)ability, etc. For instance, Sam has written that doing physical activity while fat means overcoming a cornucopia of obstacles, from condescension and fat-shaming to problems finding right-sized clothing and gear. Tracy has posted about how our concepts of fitness get associated with particular body norms which excludes older, larger-sized and differently abled people.   If you’re interested in these topics, search their archives, and you’ll find loads of thought-provoking posts from them and their guest bloggers.

Some things I read this week made me start thinking about what seems to be to be a point of tension between creating dedicated spaces for fat activity and creating inclusive spaces, building norms and structures for size acceptance.

For this blog, I wanted to offer some thoughts I had when I read about Sam’s position on fat yoga for her.

 “Bottom line: I’m comfortable running/biking/swimming with people of all different shapes but give me yoga with people close to my size please!”

I totally get this. Yoga is an activity with a variety of levels. Tennis, soccer and squash, on the other hand, are sports where it’s less likely that people of vastly different levels play together. So Sam’s interest, it seems, is REALLY about finding a class that happens to cater to people who aren’t very flexible in ways that make yoga positions more difficult or painful or flat-out not possible. And I am so with her on this. I mean really:

yoga-pretzel

Although I wouldn’t mind learning how to do this:

fun-yoga

I know, I know, there are lots of you out there who do this, and it’s big fun for you, so no disrespect intended here.

But her comment reminded me of when I was learning how to do sea kayaking, about 15 years ago. I took a variety of intro to sea kayaking classes—some held at a lake, some in a river, and some in the ocean. Technical note: Sea kayaks are quite different from river kayaks. They are longer, narrower, and are designed to go straight. Some of them have rudders, and they look like this:

sea-kayak

River kayaks are shorter, are flat on the bottom, with no rudder, and are designed to turn and maneuver easily. They look like this:

river-kayak

When I decided to learn to sea kayak, I had to deal with my fears that I was simply too large to do this. In my first course, we had to wear wetsuits, which were provided for us. I was completely stressed out and embarrassed at the prospect of trying on wetsuits (not a fun prospect for anyone) and not finding one to fit me. In the end I used a men’s one, which fit, but I was embarrassed and angry that there were no women’s sizes for me. And I’m pretty sure that people much larger than I was would be completely excluded because 1) the company didn’t stock sizes much larger than the one I used; and 2) it’s hard to find large-sized wetsuits for women. Looking this up online, there are wetsuits for large and tall men, but not so easily found for women (probably this blog’s readers know about where to find them, but you do have to look, and they are expensive).

My next worry was about fitting into the cockpit of the boat. You’re supposed to fit snugly, but not too snugly, in a sea kayak. The fit needs to be snug, as you use your hips in the course of paddling; otherwise, your upper body gets too tired. But the fit can’t be too snug, as you need to be able to exit the boat in case your kayak turns over. They call this a “wet exit”—one of my favorite sports euphemisms.

wet exit

It turns out this is less scary than one might think; you pretty much just pop out of the boat once it turns over. And courses practice this a lot—hence the wetsuits. I found it was easy getting out of the boat underwater—who knew?

But then there’s the business of getting back in the boat while in deep water—this requires detailed instruction and a lot of practice. I was also afraid I couldn’t do this. I don’t have great upper body strength, and I have a lot of weight to haul out of the water. Finally, once I’m out of the water and on the back deck of the boat, I have to maneuver myself oh-so-carefully to get back in the cockpit without disturbing the boat and falling back into the water again. This is not easy. Luckily we had help—to learn what’s called an assisted rescue, we had instructors and other students. They taught us a bunch of techniques for using two boats, two sets of paddles and two persons to get one person back in the cockpit. These women don’t seem to be minding the process at all:

assisted rescue

So, what happened to my worries? Well, the instructors found a boat to fit me (turns out they make boats with a variety of different widths and different sized cockpits), a wetsuit I could wear (albeit a men’s one that was too long, but hey), and I was able to learn some techniques to get back into the boat from deep water. I even learned how to do a solo rescue—get myself back on the boat by myself (after about 25 tries…) Still– yay!

However, not everyone was so lucky. There was a woman in one class who was larger than I was, and who was visibly anxious about all the things I mentioned. And things went poorly for her. The instructors for this particular course (a one-day class on a lake) were clearly unskilled at teaching someone who was anxious and in particular anxious about her size. Their response was to segregate her from the rest of us, which exacerbated her anxieties and distress. When it came to learning the assisted rescue, they didn’t pair her with one of the other students. Instead, two of them used a technique used to put an injured paddler back in a boat, called the scoop technique.   This can be used even if a paddler is unconscious.

Right. So, the take-home message for her was that there was no way for her to get back in the boat under her own power; she had to be rendered motionless and passive to get back in her own kayak. I was furious about what I saw, and talked to the instructors afterwards. They never got what I was saying. I also didn’t get a chance to talk to her, as she left immediately.

Obviously, the moral of this particular story is: educate instructors so they are made aware of how it feels to be a larger-sized person in this context, and also how to teach students of all sizes. This is not impossible—there are loads of techniques, there’s specialized equipment, etc.

But I wonder: can we say anything general about when it’s good to have all-sizes-respected classes, and when it’s good to have large-sizes-only classes for some activity? Are some sports or activity classes better for the former, and others better for the latter? Of course we can and should have both, but it’s not clear to me if some sports or circumstances favor one or the other.  I had hoped to come up with some answers. However, at least the question is out there, and I’ll be thinking on it. In the meantime, blog readers, what are your thoughts and experiences? I’d love to hear your perspectives.