Seeking free flow vibes
fitness

Seeking free flow vibes

Nicole P,2 Comments

Oh no! It’s chin-up day. How can I practice this without dangling from the top bar on the rig? Can I do those alternate ones with the band placed horizontally? Or on the shorter rig. The one that I can reach easily? These are the types of thoughts that go through my head when there is something on the menu I don’t want to entertain. They can make my brain freeze, and sometimes, the best way to deal with them, is to avoid the offending item all together.

This is why I enjoy long distance running. The repetitive motion forces me to get out of my head in a meditative way. Much more effectively than a long shavasana, where my mind is likely to get busy. This is nice, but are we done yet?

Being this type of person is why I haven’t worked on my chin ups. I can’t get my head to stop thinking about dangling off the bar from a high place. I mean, I haven’t been back INSIDE the gym yet, and I probably won’t be any time soon, but even when I do, I’m not likely to run to the high bar on the rig. Which is a shame, because I am confident that I have the necessary upper body strength.

When I do let myself get out of my head for brief moments, it’s nice.

Whether it’s the start of a sprint during a park workout and I let my whole body move without worrying too much about form. Or, during jumping jacks or kettlebell swings, where I can feel the adrenaline rush. Those moments feel special. Luxurious. I’m not suggesting that people don’t employ good form, but if you do something often enough, you should naturally have the form down, so that you can let go and enjoy.

I was thinking about these things for this post. I figured it was a little ode to free(ing) movement. Free from inhibitions. Free from overthinking. Letting them spill out into other areas of our lives.

Then I read Bitch Media’s review of Alison Bechdel’s, “The Secret to Superhuman Strength“. I read this graphic novel a couple months ago and enjoyed it. Cate wrote about it here. While not quite as “sporty” as Bechdel, and though I discovered my love of fitness later in life, I can relate to her quest for a higher sense of herself through movement. Or, if nothing else, bliss that comes from turning off an anxious mind. There were two things that stood out to me from the Bitch review:

  1. “Khloé Kardashian has an E! show called Revenge Body whose entire premise revolves around people sticking it to their exes by losing weight and getting jacked.”
  2.  “Early in life, Bechdel discovers that she can blunt the utter awkwardness of being a human being through vigorous physical activity. She’s looking for the bliss that comes through forgetting yourself, a way to turn off the relentless grinding of an anxious mind.”

With respect to the first, I’m so glad I don’t have cable and I’m not tempted to watch crap like that.

With respect to the second, this is me, in a nutshell. Some parts of exercise are hard. But there are lots of moments that feel good, that are fun, and more importantly, result in that bliss that comes from forgetting yourself, from turning of the relentless grinding of an anxious mind.

And, then I thought, because I’ve been feeling typical feelings of annoyance and frustration with myself, about my career (and ruminating over school choices)….what if instead of distracting myself through exercise, I channelled some of that sweat equity into more meaningful endeavours through work? What if I tried to find artistic and cerebral activities that provided the same hard work, and way to turn of the relentless grinding of an anxious mind? What effect would that have on my hampster in a wheel feelings of making some ground with new experiences, and then hitting the same barriers (external and internal) over and over? What would happen then? I don’t have the answers to these questions, but it is something I am thinking about. I’ll let you know if I figure out a way to jump off the wheel. If this rambling paragraph makes any sense to you, and you have any wisdom to share, please do!

In the meantime, I will keep moving through it. Seeking those blissful moments.
This sweaty glow is courtesy of a hot Sunday morning in Toronto, but also, from letting go and enjoying my morning run.

A collage of photos from a jog in Toronto. Top left is the view from Church St. looking West on Adelaide towards the financial district. The pink coloured Scotia Plaza is prominent. Top right is the flatiron building at Church and Front/Wellington. Bottom right is the entrance to the Distillery District from Parliament St. with the heart display in the centre. Bottom right is Nicole with blue cap and black tank top, sweaty from a hot but happy run.
Nicole P. is in a “slow and steady” season, both with exercise, work and play.
fitness

Day 1: Pleven to Kormyansko. 84 km. Hilly. Hot. (#reblog, #fieldpoppy, #grit)

Sam B

Cate’s travels in Bulgaria and more reflections on heat, hills, and grit. Many of us here at the blog are living vicariously through Cate’s travel adventures. Hope you enjoy them too!

fit at mid-life · fitness · fun · kayak · winter

Dani Donders Has All The Fun: An Interview

Christine Hennebury

Dani Donders is a kayak enthusiast and kicksledder who works for the federal government and lives in Manotick, Ontario with her family.

She is also an excellent role model for how to maximize your fun.

Dani and I have never actually met but we’ve known each other online since our kids were young and we both enjoy trying new things…but only on our own terms.

I have long enjoyed her writing and her photography and I love experiencing her various hobbies from afar. In the past few years, Dani has gotten into two activities that have especially intrigued me – kayaking and kicksledding- and I wanted to know more about them. I thought that the Fit is a Feminist Issue readers would enjoy hearing about them, too.

Thanks for the great interview, Dani!

Small confession: I didn’t know that a kicksled was called a kicksled and my interview questions originally called it a ‘winter slide thingy’ but now I know that it is either called a kicksled or a spark. Yes, I could have left that out of this post but then you wouldn’t get to grin a little at my expense…what’s the fun in that?

A person in a purple winter jacket and black pants stands on a kicksled on a snow-covered winter trail.
There’s Dani, having all the winter fun! Image description: Dani is facing the camera and smiling while standing on her kicksled on a snow-covered path with trees in the background. She has long dark hair and she s wearing a purple jacket, a multi-coloured scarf, and black pants. Her sled is made of a light wood but the treads are black.

What drew you to kicksledding and kayaking? Now that they are part of your regular routine, what do you enjoy about them?


I live on an island in the Rideau River and have pined for a canoe for the 10+ years we lived here, but for some reason I thought I had to get one that I could cram all three kids and both adults into – which would have been very expensive. Now that the kids are older, I felt comfortable buying a kayak and taking the time to go out on my own, away from the family. I’ve always been drawn to water, though. I’ve rented kayaks and canoes and even peddle boats and always loved them. I only wish I’d bought one years ago.


The kicksledding was more random. My friend Annie got one for Christmas, and I loved the idea of it. I’m afraid of falling, so I don’t really like skiing or skating, but I loved the fact that I wasn’t strapped to the kicksled – if I felt it was out of control or going too fast, I could just hop off. It was a bit of an impulse buy, but from the moment I tried it, I loved it. I absolutely love zooming down an icy trail, hugging the edge of being in control. It’s very exhilarating, while being quite safe!

I might have a bit of an obsessive personality, so for both kayaking and the spark, I didn’t just do it once or twice a month. I go out on long adventures on the sled (a 10 km run is my favourite length) and I have paddled more than 300 km so far this year in my kayak. Winter or summer, I’m out doing my favourite activity at least once a week but usually several times each week.

What sorts of physical activities did you do before getting into kayaking, etc?


I had a gym membership, and did hot yoga, but I did not do a lot of outdoor activities. I would say I struggled against being sedentary and am not a very “athletic” person. When I started kayaking last summer and then kicksledding last winter and started spending hours each weekend outdoors, I’d jokingly say, “why didn’t anyone tell me outside was so awesome?” This new-found outdoorsiness is very uncharacteristic for me.

How do your current sport activities contribute to your life?


Especially during the pandemic, both kayaking and kicksledding were enormous stress relievers, and while I go solo most of the time, both lent themselves well to social distancing so were a key form of socializing during the pandemic. What I didn’t expect was how empowering they would be. There’s something that makes me feel like a badass when I can lift my own kayak on top of my car and tie it down and then undo it all and get my kayak in the water by myself. I am actually afraid a lot of the time when I’m kayaking – I don’t like deep water, or seaweed, or bugs, or wide open spaces, and spend a lot of the time when I’m paddling talking myself out of being scared. So that’s empowering, too.


I’ve also gotten enormous peace of mind and stress relief from being physically active. This level of activity is unprecedented in my life. I was a regular but unenthusiastic attendee in the weight room of the local gym, and I did enjoy weekly yoga, but the idea of spending hours outside sweating in -30C temperatures is definitely new for a girl who always considered herself clumsy and unathletic. And it’s made me love my body, for all its softness and pudge, because it’s proven amazingly strong and capable. I used to get aching knees and hips from walking anything more than 5 km, but I can easily paddle 15 km or kicksled 10 km across ice on a winter morning. I would have never imagined I’d be capable of doing that, and I’m really proud of my middle aged body for showing up, if not a little late to the game.

If someone you knew wanted to take up kayaking or kicksledding, how would you advise them to get started?


Both sports have relatively low barriers to entry in that they’re pretty easy to just hop in or on and go. In both cases, there was a cost of about $400 for equipment. I’d recommend anyone who is thinking about it go ahead and get started – one of my only regrets is that I waited as long as I did to get a kayak. Both kayaks and kicksleds are often available locally for rent if someone wanted to try it out before plunking down an impulsive $400 each time like I did. I’m just happy it worked out – both the kayak and the kicksled would have made awkward, expensive paperweights if I happened to not love them as much as I did.

The front of a blue kayak sits on calm water. There is a blue thermos and a half-eaten cookie sitting on the top of a small zippered compartment.
And here’s evidence of some of Dani’s spring fun. She and I share a ‘bring a snack’ philosophy. Image description: The front of Dani’s blue kayak from her perspective. In the foreground is a blue thermos and a chocolate covered cookie with a bite out of it resting on the zippered flap of the kayak’s storage compartment. Beyond the kayak, there is calm water and leafless trees. The trees are reflected in the water.

This blog is called ‘Fit is a Feminist Issue,’ how does the idea of fitness as a feminist issue resonate with you? What meaning does it have for you?


This gets back to the empowerment issue, I think. In both cases, kayaking and kicksledding are activities I do entirely for me, and largely by myself. As a mom to three kids, it’s empowering to carve that space for myself back into my life. I tend to go for excursions very early in the morning so it doesn’t interrupt our other family rhythms too much, but I’ve made taking the time to enjoy these activities a priority in our family routines. I think this teaches the family that it’s okay to do things for yourself, and that taking care of yourself is an act of love.

Is there anything else you would like to add about yourself, your activities, fitness, or feminism and fitness?


Kayaking is a pretty common sport, but the spark is very unusual and my friends all thought it was (might still think it is) pretty weird. I don’t think I’ve ever gone out that someone hasn’t stopped me to comment on it – usually with a smile in response to how much FUN I’m obviously having. So I’d also say don’t be afraid to follow your heart, even if other people think it’s a little unconventional.

I don’t think I’ll ever go back to a conventional gym again. Fitness used to be a chore that I did – going to the gym was important because I know exercise is a big part of a healthy life. What I didn’t realize was that when you find an activity that makes your heart soar, it’s not even remotely a chore. When I’m zooming down an icy trail or paddling up to a turtle sunning itself on a branch, I’m transported with joy and my muscles are just along for the ride. I haven’t been to a gym or done a yoga class in a year, but I’m in the best shape of my life. So whether it’s gardening or ultramarathons, don’t be afraid to try new things (even if you are on the far side of 50 like me) and don’t be afraid to follow an unconventional path.

****************************

See what I mean about Dani as a role model for fun?

Do you have a kayak or a kicksled or do you find your fitness fun in other activities?

fitness · meditation · rest · sleep · yoga · Zwift

Sleep, stress, and exercise: Sam’s vicious cycle

Sam B3 Comments

I’m the Nap Queen. Sleep is my super power. I prioritize rest. These are some of the songs I sing on the blog.

La La La.

La la la la

But lately it feels more like…

Blah. Blah. Blah.

I have a very stressful job and lately I haven’t been sleeping that well. I’m worrying a lot.

So I have been tired and also some days, not feeling much like hard exercise. I mean, I’m still working out. I still bike commute. I still throw a little yoga in here and there. I walk Cheddar and I do some rowing on the erg. But my passion for big. heavy lifting or long efforts on the bike? Nope. Nada.

That’s very not me. So I’ve been listening to the voice that says ‘more rest.’ I’m going to bed early.

But it hasn’t really been helping. I’m sleeping but I am not sleeping that well. Stress and heat are both factors but also without the serious exercise, I’m just not that tired.

One thing that’s occurred to me that is that I use exercise to burn off stress and it makes me tired. The combo makes for an excellent night’s sleep. I slept my best during the pandemic when I was zwifting 5 or 6 nights a week. If I’m too tired to work out, I don’t exercise in the evening and then I have a crappy night’s sleep.

Listening to your body doesn’t always mean more rest. Sometimes the message is more complicated than that.

I’m going to try exercising even when I don’t feel like it, knowing I’ll feel better after. I’m usually the sort of person who uses exercises as a reward. It’s a fun thing that I do. I might have to change my thinking a bit.

I’m going to also look for some non exercise stress relief. I’ve got Adriene’s Find What Feels Good app on my phone and I might see what night time yoga and meditation do for my sleep.

What helps you get a good night’s sleep?

cycling · fitness · holiday fitness · holidays

Biking on the G2G Trail (Again!)

Sam B
Many photos of our trip!

The summer of rail trail biking continues with more time on the holiday weekend on the Guelph to Goderich Trail.

We’ve ridden on a lot of Ontario trails from Brantford to Port Dover, in Prince Edward County on the Millennium Trail, as well as the Simcoe County Loop Trail.

Let me recommend the G2G as a great way to get started trail riding, maybe even with small children.

Why? It’s relatively, wide and flat. It’s well shaded. It travels through lots of small towns with convenience stores and ice cream not far off the trail. For those over the age of 19, there’s also Cowbell Brewery in Blyth which has a pretty nice restaurant too.

There are many entry points with dedicated parking lots making it easy to bit and pieces of the trail at a time.

Of course, once you get to Goderich you can continue on to Bayfield if you haven’t ridden enough that day!

Here’s me on the pier in Bayfield. Wearing a dress and riding a bike, which I like to do sometimes!

Sam on her adventure road bike wearing a green and blue polka dot dress and white helmet standing on the pier at Bayfield Harbour.
The course, spread out over 11 (?) sheets of paper. What a 24-hour adventure race is like
fitness · racing

What a 24-hour adventure race is like

catherine w

I’ve never done a really long race of any kind. I prefer short, punchy, all-out contests where you leave everything out on the field and then retire to the picnic tables for a well-deserved cold beverage, with plenty of carbs on the side. I’ve never gotten into multi-sport races, either. I did two triathlons and came to the conclusion that, all things considered, I’d prefer to just stay on the bike the whole time, thank you very much.

But loads of people of all ages and shapes and sports backgrounds are spending their weekends doing multi-sport adventure races, called adventure races. My friend Janet did one in Maine recently, with her friend Dan. I asked her some questions about it.

Me: You did a 24-hour  adventure race in Maine July 17—18. Tell me about it.

J: It was the Maine summer adventure race, run by Strong Machine Adventure Racing. It was 24 hours of mtbiking, paddling in a kayak and pack raft and trekking with route finding and navigation, in teams of 1—4. They had 3-hour and 8-hour races as well.

Me: What made you decide to do this race?

J: My friend Dan, who I mountain bike and sea kayak with, made it sound like fun. My friend Steph and I did a 6-hour race earlier in the season, and he joined us.

Me: What do you like about adventure racing?

J: There’s a variety of endurance sports and thinking. And it is a super-friendly community, as it turns out.

Me: Are you surprised about the friendliness?

J: In bike races, the fast people finish first, and then the rest of the people come in over time. By the end of the race, most everyone has left the finish area, so there’s not a lot of fraternizing between faster and slower folks.

But in the 24 hour races, the goal is to try to get as many points as you can. Only the best and fastest teams will get all the points, but everyone finishes at about the same time. I think this makes for more collegiality. Also, people were more friendly on the course, in ways I haven’t experienced in other kinds of races.

Me: How were they friendlier?

J: At a mountain bike race, it’s a big deal to be passed from behind. People yell “men’s leader coming through.”

Me: Oh yes, I remember this. The riders from the faster races, when lapping the slower groups, can swarm the beginners. I’ve personally experienced this.

 J: In this race, sometimes teams cooperated to find tricky checkpoints.

Me: Is that allowed?

J: It’s unclear. (Chuckles). I think so. 

Me: Walk me through the race: where and how did you start?

J: We started with mountain biking. Mostly people were together like in a bike race, but for the first 45 minutes, which felt unlike bike races. Then it spread out. We did a combo of single track, double track and road.

We got to a park, then did a mini adventure race—3 loops—biking ,paddling and trekking. In whatever order the team preferrred. The trekking had a swimming section. Then you bike to a mountain bike park, ride there for a while. We then rode to a downhill ski area where there was more trekking. We didn’t do that—we knew we wouldn’t get all the points, and trekking wasn’t our strong suit. We decided to spend more time on the bike and pack raft sections.

Me: Tell me about that.

J: We biked to a park near a river area with 4-wheeler ATV trails. A bunch of checkpoints on land, and at any point you could transition to your pack raft and get points on water.

Me: How do the pack rafts work?

J: They are little inflatable one/two person whitewater rafts. They’re small enough to carry in a backpack or on a bike. You inflate it, get in, start paddling (you carry a paddle also). And a PFD (life preserver).

Me: How long were the pack raft sections?

J: Around 10 miles total. 1am-6am to do those. Some of that time was spent finding checkpoints.

Me: Is it scary to paddle in a pack raft in the dark? 

J: My amazing teammate Dan was the navigator. It wasn’t scary, but it was disorienting. There was dark, but also fog and rain. And pack rafts spin when you’re not paddling them on flat water. So Dan had to use a map and compass in a spinning raft in the dark. And rain. Which he did!

Me: How did you choose which sections to do?

J: We did all of the bike sections—we like to bike. We did all of the paddles, as we’re strong paddlers. That leaves the trekking. We had to make a judgment on how many we could do in the time allotted. There is strategy involved in doing these races.

Me: But you didn’t get the course info until just before the race start, right? Was that confusing?

J: Yes, both confusing and stressful. Luckily my partner is very experienced.

Me: Did you like doing the race?

J: About 80% of the time I was having fun. The other 20% was type II fun— a fun feeling later on when done. That was mostly because for the last 7 hours there was record-breaking torrential rain.

Me: ugh.

Me: What was your favorite part?

J: The mountain bike trails—NEMBA Apatite trails. They were swoopy and well-built. And there was a very refreshing swim across a lake after some trekking. We almost didn’t do it, but were very happy that we did.

Me: Let me point out to the readers that you swam in college for Carnegie Mellon, so you’re quite speedy.

J: Well, this swim involved carrying both PFDS and sneakers, so it was definitely not speedy.

Me: What was your least favorite part?

J: Checkpoint 33.

Me: What happened there?

J: We got turned around in the woods in a soggy, raspberry-prickly mud pit around 11pm. We never found the checkpoint.  Also there was some call-of-nature distress, but enough said on that score.

Me: How did you feel when you finished? Other than wet?

J: The thing that was so great about this for me is that I’m a recreational athlete. I do a lot of things, but am superlative at none of them. I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to do this, but it turned out that I could.

Me: Do you think you’ll do one of these 24-hour races again?

J: Yes. At 3am, Dan and I had a conversation about how we were both never going to do this again. By the time we crossed the finish line though, we changed our minds. I’m hoping to do another one.

Me: Shall I put out a general blog call to anyone out there who is good at middle-of-the-night-spinning-navigation in water?

J: Yes, thanks.

So there you have it, readers. If you want to travel to Maine, and can use a compass in the dark while spinning in a pack raft, also while reading a paper map in a ziplock bag, leave your info in the comments. I’ll hook y’all up.

For those of us for whom a picture is worth a thousand words, here are a bunch of pictures from the race.

Here are some photos of bike transition points.

  • Bike transition in day
  • Bike transition at night
  • Bikes, waiting in the woods

Here are some of kayaks and packrafts:

  • Kayaks, waiting on the beach for action.
    Kayaks, waiting on the beach for some action.
  • A two-person pack raft, in motion.

Here is a weather radar shot during the race, and a participant with her nighttime gear.

  • Radar at 11pm-- yes, all that green is rain.
    Radar at 11pm– yes, all that green is rain.
  • This woman is fully equipped for land and water.

Wanna know what the course looks like?

The course, spread out over 11 (?) sheets of paper.
The course, spread out over 11 (?) sheets of paper.

Another cool thing about the race is that they had real-time tracking of the teams. If you could interpret the web-based maps.

  • Janet’s team is 121. It looks like they’re sleeping, but in fact they’re just not moving. Allegedly.
  • The circles with dots in the middle are checkpoints.

And of course, here are our finishers, Janet and Dan, looking soggy but satisfied as they ride to the finish.

Janet on left, Dan on right, riding to the finish with smiles.
Janet on left, Dan on right, riding to the finish with smiles.

Hey readers, have you ever done a 24-hour race? Did you like it? Did you ever do one again? We’d love to hear from you.

kayak · Sat with Nat

Nat had a great time kayaking!

natalieh (she/her)

A couple weeks after arriving in McAdam my cousin Tina invited me to join her and some other women for an afternoon of kayaking on Wauklehegan Lake.

Tina and I have known each other our whole lives and have a long history of laughing a lot so I was thrilled to be invited.

The big day came and I was lucky to be able to borrow all the gear I needed from my mom from safety kit to personal flotation device to kayak and paddle. AMAZING!

At the dock I recognized a few women and chatted as everyone got gear in the water. Tina’s daughter Vanessa joined us. It was great to get to know her a bit. She’s a really cool human.

Natalie and Tina try to take a selfie on the shore. Vanessa successfully photobombs to great comedic effect.

The pace was laid back and the weather outstanding. There was a wide variety of watercraft: canoes, paddle board (go Vanessa!), two person kayaks, inflatable kayaks, and all models and sizes of recreational kayaks

We made our way up the lake to Sandy Beach, chatting, drinking, laughing and wondering at the splendor all around us.

At one moment we were surrounded by a school of palm sized white perch that were fining and jumping all around us. The water practically boiled from their efforts.

On the water, looking at Sandy Beach where dozens of brightly colored kayaks line the shore. Behind are women in swimwear sitting and standing in groups having a wonderful time.

Every event needs a commemorative tank top and beverage coozie. These were made by Jenni and super fun! Her brother is married to another of my cousins so it was great to see her again.

White text on a tie dyed background reads “girls trip cheaper than therapy 2021”

There was over 35 vessels all told and with that many folks you tend to cluster into smaller groups. Tina, Vanessa and I ended paddling with mother daughter teams, Kerri & Emily (who I think maybe we are related on my dad’s side?) as well as Fonda & Destiny. I met Fonda when I was very young, she’s the nearest and dearest friend of my other cousin Nicole. These relational things are so important, you’ll see why later.

Most of the folks are in this photo while others are taking photos for us. Thank you photographers! We are wearing our commemorative tank tops. I’m with my daughter for the moment Emily, laughing.

As we got back on the lake after libations some folks made a direct line back to the landing. It was so beautiful Tina suggested we take a circuitous route around a nearby island. We were joined by Lindsay who I had met at the beginning of the trip. (We never got to last names…this is important later) Kerri and Emily agreed to hang out for a bit before going to see other friends.

So we toddled about for a few hours, chatting with people Tina knew on a jet ski, a couple who have this vessel made from two 14’ aluminum boats held together with a dock on top, to a fellow with a boat and an Adirondack chair bolted in for passengers.

They were lots of great conversations and laughs. I did get a bit sunburned. Oopsie!

When we finally decided our trip was over Lindsay kindly offered to give me and my kayak a lift home. When her beloved arrived with their truck I introduced myself, as I had been doing all day as few people knew me or recognized me. The man burst out laughing, it was another of my cousins, Jamie, who I didn’t recognize as it had been too long. Lindsay thought that was hilarious as she knew how I was related to her. I was the clueless one!

I was so thankful for a day of companionship and gentle movement, not for working out or getting to a destination.

It was a wonderful way to reconnect to old friends and make new ones. Thank you for the invite Tina!

fitness

Olympic dreams start young …

marthafitat55

It’s been a time at the Games, delayed by the pandemic, splintered by misogyny, and fraught with racism. The day I publish this Canada will face off against Sweden for gold in the women’s soccer final. Canadian women have led the way in the medal count of all colours and the men brought up the rear with gold medals in track. It’s been nice to cheer for all the athletes, and celebrate those representing the place we call Canada.

I haven’t had time to watch a lot of the Games, but I keep on top of what’s happening, both in the Olympic Village and outside of it. Several friend shared this adorable TikTok video. Have a look at Emily aged four marvelling at the strong Olympian women.

@coffeencrusts

Watching women’s weightlifting 🏋️‍♀️ #olympics #olympicweightlifting #tokyoolympics #funnytoddler #toddlertok #toddlersoftiktok

♬ Women are so strong – Tina

Little Emily is inspired by the strong women she saw on her television. “You can do it,” she said. Then she says, “… strong hands, I wish I had strong hands. I wished I had to be the strongest.”

It gets better. She tells her parent that she has done the same “dropping” as the weightlifters on the screen.

She explains to her parent, “When I was the strongest Emmy, I used to go there and play dropping.”

What a treat to see strong women represented. How exciting to see children and youth inspired to try the same. What an inspiration to see strong women respect their bodies and their abilities and speak their truth about what they are prepared to do. US powerhouse gymnast Simone Biles withdrew from the final in the team event and a couple of others because she knew she could not push herself and still safely execute her incredibly demanding maneuvers. She modeled the greatest strength with grace and determination.

Strong hands, strong boundaries, big dreams. Whatever our age, I think it is always important to see ourselves represented and be supported by the agency of women claiming their space, be it the field, the gym, the pool, or the seat of government or the boardroom table for that matter. Find your your inner Emmy. I know you can do it.

— MarthaFitat55 is a writer and consultant getting her fit on in St. John’s.

fitness

Anticipating the need for Grit: Planning my first post-lockdown bike trip

fieldpoppy1 Comment

I’m leaving this afternoon on an airplane. To fly across an ocean. To a totally different country. One I’ve never been to. That has a different alphabet. To ride a bike. Far. By myself.

Riding bikes in foreign lands is a thing that I do — or at least a thing that pre-Covid Cate did. But usually, I train a little bit more than I have this time. Or a big bit.

For a whole bunch of reasons — work, rainy days that lined up too closely with the few days I’ve had fully available, trying to see people who’ve been far away through the endless months of lockdown — the furthest I’ve ridden outside since last summer was 70 km.

Starting Monday, I’ll be riding across Bulgaria — which has a lot of mountains. And every day of the riding looks like this.

Note that little marker in the middle that says “BALKAN MOUNTAINS.” And the little gradation thing that shows a day of nearly 1000 m of climbing over 84km. That’s an average day — one day is nearly 1400 m of climbing.

I’m trying not to psych myself out — this is just me and a hired bike, no van to pick me up, places to sleep booked along the way. I have friends in Bulgaria, which is why I picked this country, but they won’t be riding with me. I’ll see them once on the route and then at the sea after I’ve finished riding. BUT THOSE LITTLE GRAPHS WITH ALL THE HILLS. A FOREIGN LAND WITH VARIANTS RUNNING AROUND.

So I’m taking a deep breath and thinking about grit.

I’ve written about grit before, when Susan, Sam, Sarah and I did a cold, rainy trip in Newfoundland a couple of years ago. Coincidentally, Mina mentioned grit in a post about mountain biking yesterday.

I love the word grit, because it perfectly conjures up the idea of “I feel so uncomfortable, like there’s a damn piece of sand in my eye or a stone in my shoe, but I’m hanging in there anyway.” I know I know how to do this — I rode nearly 3000 virtual kilometres in Zwift over the winter, including a 4.5 hour marathon Uberpretzel; I’ve run actual marathons; I’ve ridden through heat and hypothermia. I am old enough to have experienced a fair bit of emotional turmoil that requires grit to get through. I’m strong. I know how to do this. I just have to remember.

In our Virtual Superhero workout on Tuesday, I had another opportunity to explore grit. Alex gave us a challenge of holding a plank for “2 minutes or as long as you could.” I put myself into the pose until, at 3+ minutes, I thought I should let go, since there was more workout to go. I was fully present to the sensation of galvanizing my whole body into the hold, all of the quivering and girding and breathing. It wasn’t comfortable, but I could sink into it. And just be with it. I could have stayed longer.

Afterwards, Alex and I had a sprawling conversation about what it means to be with that kind of discomfort, and how we learn endurance. We ended up in a super metaphysical conversation about Buddhism, the inevitable pain of living, the importance of distinguishing between pain or discomfort that you can live with, soldier though, by being deeply present — and actual harm, that you should not try to grit your way through. Simone Biles, of course, is the glaring avatar of this right now — there’s grit (pretty much everything she’s ever done, including stepping onto the beam earlier this week), and then there is the wise, brave choice of knowing your body and the circumstances around you well enough to know that gritting your way through something is dangerous. Which is, of course, a different kind of grit.

So here I go, masked, vaxxed and armed with a negative PCR test. Sunscreen and a good 2 L hydration pack. And a lifetime of knowing that I can put my head down and keep going — and that if I do need to say “nope, that is going to hurt me,” I can flag down a passing driver. It will be okay. It will be transcendent. It will be hard and it will be perfect.

Fieldpoppy is Cate Creede, who has is grateful for the privilege to ride in many countries.

Thinking About the T-Word While Riding a Mountain Bike
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Thinking About the T-Word While Riding a Mountain Bike

Mina7 Comments

The voice in my head, who I’ve named IO (pronounced ee-yo), doesn’t like the T-word. She says, “Don’t use that word to describe certain events in your life (such as being sexually assaulted by a tennis instructor). You’re going to get all fragile and breakable. All boohoo about shit. You’re a strong woman. I don’t want you to be defined by trauma. Also, nothing that’s happened to you begins to compare to what other people have experienced. What’s happened to you are only flesh wounds. Comparatively. Worse—they’re psychic wounds, which are literally not flesh wounds. Calling them wounds begins with the same letter of the alphabet as wallow.”

IO’s rough assessment is what led to a recent text-versation with a friend, in which she told me that she felt disconnected from me, “in the realm of trauma, because you have let me know that you don’t believe you are traumatized and find the word pathologizing.” She went on to say that she didn’t feel safe or free of my judgment in this context. Her words stung. I felt like a heartless ogre. The next morning, I woke tired, feeling fragile, questioning my relation to trauma—other people’s and my own, which is how I found myself thinking about my tennis instructor while riding my mountain bike.

I was riding up a trail I call True Grit 4. The trail has some steep bits and three short sections on which it’s always questionable whether I’ll make it or not (here making it equals staying on the bike). Questionable section one (QS1) went off without a hitch—smooth and still surprising each time I make it through the steep, sandy S-turn. QS2 was wonky. On a sharp left uphill littered with rocks, I rode up the wrong line, riding over rocks, instead of finessing between them, and almost abandoned hope. But I told myself I could still do it. And I did. A second surprise.

Mina on her mountain bike on a trail that’s not True Grit, but nearby

After two successes, I was feeling confident about QS3, so I let my mind wander to the tense text exchange from the night before with my friend. I started thinking about a pickle ball clinic I’d taken the week before. It was the first time I’d been on a tennis court since my long-ago lessons with that coercive instructor. Playing something similar to tennis. The first 15-minutes had brought back a rush of unease that swirled my stomach. IO was in top volume denial, telling me to get over it. As I pedaled, I thought about why I do not want to name that event as a trauma, even as my body was re-experiencing the self-disgust and shame.

And … I whiffed QS3. Normally, I’d just continue with my ride. But this day I was not going to accept the situation. I got off my bike. Hoisted it around on the narrow trail, walked it back 10 meters. Pointed it back up the trail. Gave myself a talking to. Gently. The voice of my centered, compassionate Self said, “You can ride this. Yes, you have every right to feel uneasy on a tennis court and we’ll talk about that. But this is not the moment to think about tennis.”  This voice’s name is JG (yes, I name a lot of the voices in my head, because it helps create the distance that I need to get perspective on what they are saying).

I had barely enough time to clip back into my pedals before I was navigating between the rocks on the short steep turn that is QS3. I reassured myself it was okay if I didn’t clip back in. Lots of people ride mountain bikes now with flat pedals, not clipless. I was so focused on relaxing and not worrying about my pedals that I rode up with ease. I wasn’t thinking about tennis.

Later, I checked back in with IO. She told me that since the word trauma was on my mind she had been hitching on my shoulder for the ride. But when I got off my bike to try QS3 again and JG showed up, she went up the trail to watch my second try. IO said, “You looked great, by the way, relaxed and determined.” I was so surprised by her change in tone, I almost didn’t hear her.

On the mountain bike, in that moment on QS3, my psyche and body felt the difference between pushing away the name of trauma and accepting what is with empathy. Psychic or physical, our pain is real, not only a flesh wounds. Oh, and by the way, flesh wounds can be fatal. Why would I discount trauma? Life hurts. Life is not only a flesh wound. It’s a near fatal blow some of the time. Yes, I’ve been lucky, in the grand scheme. I won the lottery in my birth situation. But … my life hasn’t been a cakewalk either. When I insist on thinking of it as a cakewalk, I beat myself up about not being enough. Look at all those people who have overcome bigger obstacles than me to become great fill-in-the-blanks (artists, leaders, entrepreneurs). Why haven’t I done more with my life?!?!

JG says, “Compare and despair. Just stop. You are enough. Keep going, just as you are.”

JG says, “Yes, the tennis incident was hurtful and horrible AND you can keep going, not in denial or minimization, nor in wallowsomeness or exaggeration, but in acceptance and empathy, with confidence, with a spring in your step, with lightness and the grace of heated steel. You are under construction, not broken, and the scars not only make you stronger, they make you more beautiful. Wabi Sabi.”

That my traumas are not as big T as other people’s, does not relegate them to an offsite storage unit. The name of trauma is not in and of itself pathological. My wounds are part of me. Undeniable. Impactful.  The key to flow in my life is finding the suppleness of empathic resilience. That’s what got me up QS3. And what got me home with joy and the zeal to write this. That’s what will open my heart to myself and other people. That’s what will get me up the mountain of life. Today and for the tomorrows.