My youngest moved out the end of February and I wasted no time moving our Peloton, dumbbells and yoga stuff into the basement.
It’s so much cooler down there!
Nat half smiles from her stationary bike. Her green workout tank top really pops against the purple walls.
The moving out involved 9 days of driving so I’m not hitting my cycling goal of 30 km/week.
An orange graph from Strava showing weekly cycling distances. A clear ramp up from 0 in January and wobbling between 20 and 33 km each week. A clear dip for that week of driving with no cycling.
With more space Michel and I can do strength training together.
I love that we can pair up together time while hitting our goals.
Media tells me I should be sad about having an “empty nest”. I feel unburdened and enjoying the additional space.
I’m happy my 23 & 25 year old kids are out in the world being independent. It’s less cognitive load and I’m definitely wearing fewer clothes which means less laundry for Michel to do!
I come across the oddest videos on my various social feeds. They are a great way to pass the time while I am in a waiting room, when I don’t have long enough to get into another book chapter but I’m there long enough to need amusement.
Image shows a roomful of older people dancing to an instructor’s directions.
Today this video popped up and I loved it: you can take a look here. It features a young woman running into a meeting room profusely apologizing to the group of seniors already seated at tables, patiently waiting. She turns on her music player with a raucus song and starts demonstrating dance moves while encouraging the seniors to get moving.
At first, the seniors aren’t sure what they are supposed to do but they get into the groove. Suddenly another woman appears at the door holding a bingo machine. Aha! The dance instructor is in the wrong room. No matter though; she and the seniors keep dancing.
I like this video for a number of reasons: first, the dance instructor isn’t phased by the room full of seniors. She clearly believes everyone can move at their pace and ability. When we see the seniors dancing, we see some are really grooving, some just moving their arms, or others following every move, including an older man dancing in a wheel chair. Everyone goes at their own pace and ability.
Over the last few years, I have spent time with family in long-term care facilities and I have seen how there is a strong focus on movement. “Motion is lotion” and whether it is chair yoga, group badminton, or a regular turnabout on the dance floor, older residents are supported in being active in the ways they want and can.
For example, there’s one assisted living facility in my community that partnered with the municipality to pave the walk around a small pond outside their building. The path is cleaned in the winter and on days when the weather cooperates, there’s a crowd some with canes, and some without, some using walkers and others in wheelchairs. During the spring, summer and fall months, you can also see people out walking with their families, or if they need a break, there are benches on which to sit and watch the ducks while you catch your breath.
But back to dancing. It’s an activity that builds strength, supports muscle tone, fosters endurance, and is in a word, fun. While it’s great to have social dancing, fitness dancing is equally important and not just for youngsters.
I am reminded of the side-eyes pregnant people get when they keep their fitness routine, be it running, weight lifting, swimming etc. There’s an attitude out there that only certain types of people can only do certain things in certain ways — only young people can do aerobics, only old people can go for a stroll — and if you don’t meet the unspoken criteria , then you are crossing a line that has no real relevance.
The unspoken message in the video is clear: if you can, do. So go ahead and shake your booty.
Last month, I wrote about the challenges and stresses of elder care. What I didn’t mention was that I have been sick since January 14. What started off as an ordinary cold morphed into bacterial bronchitis. Antibiotics knocked out the bronchitis but I was left with what I suspect is an ear infection. I have booked another appointment with my doctor – the third one in as many months, when I normally see him no more than once a year.
When I think of self care, I usually conjure up images of women using ridiculously expensive face creams, or indulging in a spa treatment. This week, self care looks like reading in bed, sleeping, and remembering to brush my teeth.
Pandora, my kitty guardian. She is a long-haired dilute calico, who has a funny smirk because she is missing a tooth.
Here’s the picture: I’m on my couch. Tucked into my sauna blanket. A device that looks like a combination of a sleeping bag and weighted blanket, that heats up, as a sauna and emits far infrared light, the benefits of which are numerous (and possibly exaggerated) and boil down to—anti-inflammatory and promotes cellular regeneration.
I’ve been tempted into buying this device because the functional medicine practitioner, with whom I’ve been consulting for about a year now, recommended that I would do well to add red light therapy to my protocol, to support my immune system and overall health. My ultimate goal is healing my Addison’s Disease. A pipe dream, according to my medical doctor. Though he was surprised I still had functioning adrenals in a recent blood test. So, I hold out hope of surprising him further in the future and red light therapy is my newest effort in that direction. As many of you know, I also follow a protocol of vitamins and other supplements, with the same goal. In addition, my functional medicine practitioner has recommended a variety of meditation and mindfulness practices and programs, some of which I’ve followed and some of which mapped to my existing practices. And recently, she suggested that while I was applying a glutathione cream intended to remove heavy metals from my body, that I imagine a golden light healing my adrenals, which I am doing.
Back to the picture. I’m on the couch, sweating out toxins (maybe healing my adrenals), watching the show Apple Cider Vinegar on Netflix. A show, based on a true story, about hucksterism in the alternative medicine (aka functional medicine, aka wellness) space. A show about the dangers of disdaining western medicine and falling for all the extravagant healing claims around juicing and coffee enemas and supplements and veganism. The show doesn’t mention far infrared light therapy. And that’s likely because the events in the show took place a decade ago, before red light therapy became all the rage it is today.
Belle, from Apple Cider Vinegar (on Netflix), striding through a throng of groupies
In other words, I am deep into possible huckster space with my own health. As I watched the episodes spool on, I was keenly aware of the irony of each droplet of healing sweat pooling on my body and the hope that droplet contained and the potential chimera of everything I’m doing outside of taking my pharmaceutical medication three times every day. Still, I persist with the alternative protocols. Why? Because right now, I believe that I can heal, and I want to do everything in my power to reach that star. Just there, I hesitated between writing “I need to believe” or “I want to believe”. Neither need nor want captured my state. My belief is not a need or a desire. It is.
Am I believing blindly? Am I giving up on western medicine and putting all my chips on alternative solutions? No and no. I am expanding the range of healing modalities that I include in my life. One of the hallmarks of most alternative healing practices is the need to believe in your ability to heal. I’m on board with that ethos.
The trickster part is that the alternative practitioners depicted in Apple Cider Vinegar are also pitching exclusivity. Show your fidelity to my wisdom by abandoning all other ideas, including traditional medical modalities. An approach that proves mortal to several characters in the show. I am not doing that. I tried ignoring western medicine right at the beginning of my own health process and my potassium marched quick step upward into unpleasant territory.
I was devastated. I spent more than a year in a state of psychological resistance to my medication. Believing it was bad, I was bad, something was bad, because I was taking little white pills multiple times a day. A large part of that mental model was influenced by the pervasive influence of the kind of people depicted in Apple Cider Vinegar. Then a couple of months ago my doctor consented to do some tests with the levels of my medications. And while he was surprised by my level of adrenal function, I was disappointed that function was not enough to reduce my doses. At the same time, the tests created a shift. I relaxed into gratitude, true gratitude, not gratitude mixed with resentment, for my medication. I need my medication and that’s okay. My condition is not a failure to believe in myself (or to consume enough freshly juiced fruits and vegetables).
I am continuing my alternative protocol, adding things, as they seem interesting. The sauna blanket is an example. Is it healing my adrenals? Maybe. Maybe not. Regardless, I feel good in many ways when I use it—my muscles recover and I sleep better, among other things.
Given all this, I might have found the show a vindication of the approach I’ve chosen. Because, in the end, that is the message the show tries to deliver. A balanced approach is best. Instead, I was frustrated with the show. By focusing on an extreme case of hucksterism, the show denigrated alternative modalities in a way that is as exaggerated as the hyped-up healing claims. They subverted their own message at the end with garbled scenes that lacked clarity. I only realized what the scenes were meant to portray in the Netflix write up about the show (spoilers!). I was left with the feeling that all alternative wellness is fraudulent.
The show was unsatisfying in other ways. The story was told in loops, circling back to the past and forward to the present in disorienting time jumps. I had trouble hanging on to who was who among several of the characters and could not always catch up with when was now in any particular scene. Instead of deepening the character arcs, I got lost and stopped caring. I was waylaid by small details like Belle drinking from single use plastic bottles, when she was preaching for the environment in other scenes. Was the plastic bottle meant to signify her treachery? Or was it carelessness on the part of the showrunner?
As you may already suspect, I do not recommend Apple Cider Vinegar. Unless you just really enjoy shows about grand scams.
As for my wellness tips to myself—I have work to do on self-love and self-acceptance. Will they heal my adrenals? Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, they are essential to my wellbeing, ease and joy. The true bottom line. Top line. And every line.
Ok, for a change, this is not referring to me taking charge of the meeting or the performance, this is a much more literal situation.
Not completely literal, of course. I am not actually reclaiming floorboards that I once owned. Anyway, let’s carry on!
Have you ever heard the quote, attributed to various writers, about how the goal of writing is to figure out what we already know?
Today’s post is a prime example of that.
I started out writing a post about my Monday morning exercise and then discovered something I hadn’t realized I knew:
I haven’t been spending enough time sitting close to the floor in the past few months and it is having a negative effect on my whole body.
Before our Christmas tree went up in December, my living room floor featured a huge blue exercise mat with a big, green, circular cushion (over 3ft in diameter) on top of it and a bolster cushion on top of that. (Yes, in case you couldn’t guess, my house is much more functional than pretty.)
And, in general, when spending time on the main floor of our house, I would either sit at the kitchen table or I would sit on on the big cushion, the mat, or on the bolster. (Our main floor is pretty open and the living room/kitchen are kind of in an L shape so it’s equally possible to watch tv, hang out, or do whatever in either location.)
I really liked having both options and I found the mat/cushion combo much more interesting than sitting on a couch or chair. (Yes, my ADHD insists that even sitting must be interesting to my brain.)
And when I chose the mat/cushion combo I was always sitting in different positions, at different heights, and either completely relaxing (i.e. lying limbs akimbo like a pile of goo) or doing some stretches/moving around a bit.
Having different resting positions as part of my routine was really good for me.
Not only did it tend to make me aware of which parts of my body needed some extra attention but it also made using a variety of muscles a much more automatic part of my day. It was a low-key use of those muscles but I was still using them.
However, when we put up all the decorations this past Christmas, I put the big cushion and the mat down into the basement hallway to keep the living room from feeling too crowded.
And, unfortunately, I really liked the way the room looked without those things in the middle of the floor so…
Both the mat and the cushion stayed downstairs for ages and I didn’t really think about the things I *wasn’t* doing because they weren’t in their usual spot.
A couple of weeks ago when I was having people over and I wanted an extra place to sit so I dragged the big cushion back to the living room. It didn’t seem to take up as much space without the mat under it so I left it there in the living room.
I quickly noticed that the living room felt more inviting to me and I was choosing to sit on that fairly low cushion instead of on the kitchen chair that I had been defaulting to over the last few months.
It was pretty good for a while, even without the mat, but then Khalee went from occasionally climbing on the cushion to deciding that this circular chummy was actually *hers* instead of mine. So, instead of lying on it for a few minutes here and there, it became her first choice of resting spots in the living room.
Poor KP looks worried in this photo but I think she got her taxes done after. (Ha!) image description: a photo of Khalee, a medium-sized, light-haired dog, curled into a semi-circle on a large green circular cushion with a rectangular bolster cushion (in a blue pillow case decorated with green frogs) behind her. She looks a little worried or sad but not actually in distress.
Now, as much as I love KP, I am allergic to her fur, even with an allergy pill. Thanks to the increased time she was spending on the cushion, my allergies would arise in a fury if I tried sitting on it.*
So, I went back to not using the cushion at all but the fact that it is in the living room keeps drawing my attention. (FYI, the fact that it was behind me when I was exercising this morning actually led to this post.)
And, now that I think of it, my body has been pretty cranky lately and some of that crankiness is definitely related to the fact that I am just not getting that same range of motion and variety of activities/sitting positions in my day-to-day over the past few months.
And that happened because I changed the seating ‘geography’ of my living room
When the cushions and the mat were there, it was an automatic thing for me to choose to sit low to the floor in a variety of ways for part of every day.
Sitting low meant that I was doing a lot of getting up and down from the floor, shifting into different positions, doing a bit of stretching, and just generally not staying in the same spot for a long time.
But, for a while now, I have been mostly staying on the kitchen chair and staying relatively still. (Why aren’t the living room chairs or couch interesting? No idea! It’s a mystery to me, too.)
Right now, in order to comfortably sit low to the floor, I would have to make a conscious choice and move things (and a dog) around and as someone with a busy brain who has trouble prioritizing, it’s pretty hard to choose to do that because there are extra steps involved.
It’s annoyingly easy to get out of the habit of doing things, isn’t it?
I had noticed that my body was cranky but I hadn’t noticed the change in my habits.
What if it had taken me longer to pay attention?
It seems like a really slippery slope to becoming the kind of person who doesn’t get down on the floor at all.
And that, in turn, could be a slippery slope to becoming a person who *can’t* get down on the floor.
I mean, I understand that our mobility changes as we age and that not all movements will continue to be available to me but I sure as hell don’t want to lose any everyday mobility options just because I left a mat in a different room.
So, I have to remove the obstacles between me and my plan to spend more time sitting close to the floor.
I have to move the mat back upstairs.
I have to put the bolster cushion back in the living room.
I have to wash the cover on the big cushion and once its clean, I need to put a blanket over it so most of the dog hair will be on that instead of the cushion cover.
I must retake the floor!
PS – I was singing Was (Not Was)’s Walk the Dinosaur in my head all while I was writing this post. I may open the door, I will get on the floor, but I will probably just walk the dog. I don’t have a harness for a dinosaur.
*And that doesn’t even address the fact that she now considers it her space and will stand there staring at me if I sit on it. Yes, I am a people and she is a dog so I can technically overrule her on the question of cushion ownership but it’s very hard to enjoy sitting cross-legged on the cushion with her staring woefully at me – or worse, poking her nose into my face – from the side. I’ll have to figure something out. 😉
Just because we’re a feminist fitness blog, that doesn’t mean we only care about women and women’s sports.
It’s not even the case that all the bloggers identify as women. Some of us are genderqueer or nonbinary, and we all advocate for the inclusion of trans and nonbinary athletes in sports. Broadly speaking, we’re interested in areas of sport, fitness, and movement where a feminist analysis applies. We’re a feminist blog, not just a women’s sports and fitness blog.
I say that because I’m about to discuss an issue about uniforms and men’s gymnastics. Whenever I write about men, I inevitably get comments saying “I thought this was a feminist blog.” It is. And my feminism includes fairness and inclusion for men, too. Another way of putting it (this came up in an online discussion of men’s health the other day) is that the best analysis of many of the ways things go wrong for people is a feminist analysis.
“Winter Cup, an elite gymnastics competition that takes place at the end of February, is normally a sleepy event, garnering the attention only of hardcore fans. Last weekend, however, the traditional opening meet of the 2025 American season broke out of the “gymternet” and into regular-person news—for its men’s competition, even! Is this because Pommel Horse Guy is back on his Superman game? Amazingly, no. Instead, coverage centered on University of Michigan junior Frederick Richard—whom some in the gymnastics media (ahem) have called the future of the sport—and his one-man protest against its antiquated apparel standards.
Allow me to explain. Or, rather, allow Mr. Richard to explain. In the lead-up to the competition, Richard, who is known for his savvy social media presence and community outreach, dropped several teasers on his numerous feeds in which he explained that the regulation men’s uniform required by the International Gymnastics Federation is deeply unpleasant for him to wear, and as such, he doesn’t want to wear it anymore.”
Here’s Richard on Instagram: “I’m changing the gymnastics uniform and will be deducted for it. But that’s what it takes to create change. The sport made me and now it’s time for me to make the sport.”
From the NBC story, “The new uniform is part of Richard’s larger plan to bring men’s gymnastics into the sports zeitgeist.
“I feel like these next four years for me is, like, my arc of changing the sport,” Richard said. “Not just changing rules or changing uniforms, but bring more eyes to the sport, partner with different athletes, partner with different artists, partner with different people, to bring eyes to gymnastics and to tell my story.”
Growing up, Richard recalled “feeling uncomfortable or kind of embarrassed to tell people that I do gymnastics” for many reasons, but the uniform was a big one.”
We’ve written about the issue of skimpy uniforms in women’s sports. See here and here. And the values for me, in both men’s and women’s sports that matter here are are choice and inclusion. Those are feminist values and we here at Fit is a Feminist Issue applaud the efforts of Richard to change the culture of men’s gymnastics.
Just like women can play rugby, men can compete in gymnastics. And just like women should be able to play beach volleyball in the uniforms that make them comfortable, so too boys and men who compete in gymnastics ought to be able to do so in a uniform they’re not embarrassed to wear.
In December 2007, just over 17 years ago, I hurt myself pretty badly while on sabbatical in Australia. The whole family, including Jeff’s sister Susan who was visiting, were staying at a colleague’s cottage in Milton and enjoying a day at Mollymook Beach. Everyone, kids and adults, were playing and splashing in the waves. A fun day.
Suddenly, a very big wave appeared out of nowhere. It basically picked me up and threw me on the beach. I can’t describe it any other way. I couldn’t have done anything to make it end differently.
I passed out when I landed and I was in so much pain I was certain I’d broken my hip. Family took me to the emergency room. Nothing was broken, as it turned out. It was all soft tissue injury. It took me weeks to recover. For a few years after, my back wasn’t the same and I kept having back injuries. Needless to say, I’ve taken waves much more seriously ever since.
At the time it was all overshadowed by a much more dramatic event that happened that same weekend–Jeff’s more serious health issue, a spider bite that caused his arm to swell up dramatically. Oh, Australia.
Unlike me he was admitted to emerg and then ICU (yes, same hospital that I’d been to earlier in the day) and then spent days in hospital on IV antibiotics recovering, testing out the limits of our university travel insurance.
Okay, we’re both fine now. Maybe he’s more nervous about spiders. I’m definitely more nervous about playing in the surf. I’ve been in the ocean since, maybe once or twice, but only when it’s been calm.
Here’s where on the Australian coast it all went down.
Staying out of the surf has been easy in southwestern Ontario. I haven’t had to think about it really. There are lots of lakes but no nearby oceans. I’ve visited the ocean in Newfoundland and Nova Scotia but it’s so cold there I’ve had zero temptation to get in.
Now here I am in Dunedin, New Zealand, living in the neighbourhood of St. Clair, one block from the beach. St. Clair beach is a good beach for surfing, lots of big waves. I love watching the beach. On a good day there’s dozens of surfers, My favourite is watching the kids and teens doing their surf lifesaving training in the evening. They wear wetsuits and confidently swim out through the waves. Sometimes they take boards and race back. I’m impressed!
Between the big waves and the cold water though–not to mention the shark warning bell!–I haven’t been that tempted to go in myself. Yes, to the hot salt water swimming pool but no to the ocean. But last weekend we had family from Australia visit, my cousin Greg and his wife, Jo. And we had an extra warm day. Also, the waves weren’t that big, and lifeguards were on duty between the flags. All the stars had lined up just right, and I happily went back into the waves.
Shark bell!The salt water pool
Here we are! Yes, the waves knocked me off my feet once or twice. You can see from our faces below that we look plenty happy though. I think I’ve gotten over my fear of waves. Thanks all!
Thanks Greg for the photo. I’m in the middle, Jo on the left and Sarah on the right. (I’m going to nag Jo into writing about CrossFit sometime I hope.)
Jo, Sam, and SarahSt. Clair beachThe pool in the distance
Ever since I first went scuba diving ten years ago in Australia, off the Great Barrier Reef, I’ve been thinking about a return to the underwater world. It’s quiet (despite the sounds of the regulator making bubbles) and magical; swimming feels more like flying to me, and my body moves smoothly and efficiently, more seal than human.
My recent visit to the rivers and springs of Florida to visit manatees has firmed my resolve to get PADi-certified so I can dive properly and explore the blue world underwater. My interests are mainly in warm clear waters, in search of colorful fishes, graceful large undersea creatures, and hopefully some hardy and resilient corals.
However, this week I came across some examples of other reasons to go diving. In this story in National Geographic, writer and explorer Tara Roberts recounts her discovery of the diving group Diving with a Purpose. Here’s what they do (from her article):
…a group of predominantly Black scuba divers called Diving With a Purpose (DWP); they search for and document missing slave shipwrecks around the world. They helped with the discovery and documentation of the São José Paquete d’África shipwreck.
…since 2003, DWP has been training ordinary people as underwater archaeology advocates to assist archaeologists and historians in finding the submerged history of the African diaspora around the world. People as young as 16 and as old as 90 participate in this work. The only requirement is an interest in scuba diving and a commitment to perfecting your diving skills.
Tara in a slave ship wreck area, measuring to document the story.Making notes on an area underwater near a slave ship wreck.
So she joins them, and begins the process of scuba certification, specialized marine archaeology training from DWP, and then trips with them to search for and document the stories of people who were kidnapped and transported against their will and perished during the transatlantic slave trade.
You can watch a documentary about the search for slave wrecks here on Youtube.
My curiosity was activated by reading about Roberts’ voyage of discovery through diving. What projects are going on out there in the water whose purpose is greater than pursuit of colorful fish?
Turns out, there are loads of environmental and other organized diving groups, doing work they find personally meaningful and which contribute to the health of our planet.
One such program is called the Dive Against Debris diving certification. The PADI certification organization sponsors this program for training divers to learn how to survey sites targeted for debris cleanup. And there are a lot of such sites. Here’s a map of sites they’ve mapped out already:
Partial world map with debris sites for PADI Debris Diver cleanup.
You can learn more about the cleanup efforts in the Florida Keys in this video.
Unsurprisingly, there are organizations that keep track of and facilitate both learning and volunteering for underwater environmental projects. You can find such a list here, for example.
First things first, though: gotta get PADI-certified. Time for one of my favorite things: adventure travel planning!
Readers, have you done any underwater volunteer work? Any on-the-ocean environmental citizen science? I’d love to hear from you.
A few weeks back I realized I could not bike to work for a good while. My beloved works from home. I get very anxious on my walk into work.
What can an extrovert who verbally possesses everything to do?
Post your positive self talk on social media! here is an example from Thursday.
Natalie is wearing a blue raincoat with the hood up. Her grey toque with a red and white band pokes out. Her wet brown hair slides down her shoulders.
Honestly, it started back in December posting love notes online during a winter storm while my sweetheart was away for 2 weeks. Then it became a bit of a walking weather report. Then it became the nice words I need to hear to be ok in the morning.
Before the pandemic I’d regularly cry on the walk to work. Sometimes I’d dry heave on my front lawn. I never realized how bad my anxiety was or how much it coloured each day until I got to work from home for a few years.
Going back to the office I stuck to a steady routine, every Wednesday, whether I was needed there or not for 18 months. I needed the practice.
My schedule includes a second day now and I keep working on pairing a self propelled commute with a little pep talk. It really does help.
My friend Yvonne regularly ends our chats with “I love you.” It wraps up our conversations beautifully.
It took me by surprise at first. I grew up in a family culture where “I love you” and hugging were not central to interactions. Turns out I really enjoy those two things quite a bit.
So, I’m glad you are reading this. I love that you care and spend time thinking about fitness and feminism. I think it’s good for both of us. I love you!
It’s been a long, cold winter, and I work a few days a week from home, so I’m inside at my desk a lot right now. When a friend told me she uses a Cubii whenever she works at her desk I went online to see about it (as one does).
The Cubii is one of many (many) under-desk elliptical and cycling trainers, ranging from about $150-$450 (if you don’t count the high-end ones). They claim to be small, silent, and easy enough to be peddled for exercise while one sits doing office work. The Cubii looks simple and convenient, though if I bought one it might join all of my other doo-dads I have bought over the years for simple and convenient exercise…now gathering dust.
Pedal trainers join many (many) other devices that are sold for exercise at one’s desk: isometric standing devices, standing desk mats with ridges for stretching, disc wobble cushions, gyro balls, and smart water bottles. I remember when at one time there was only the stabilizer ball that you sat on instead of a chair. Now you can buy an entire work station that doubles as exercise machinery.
Various people sitting on exercise balls at desks, a google image search
Awhile ago I read an article by Eryk Salvaggio (2024), “Challenging the Myths of Generative AI”, that has stuck with me. The piece focuses on how, based on misunderstandings about how AI works, certain myths are shaping how we justify AI’s importance and reshaping how we think about ourselves and what we do.
For example, AI is widely regarded as useful because it is understood to save time. (Frequent users know this may not be true depending on how complex the task, how good one’s prompting skills are, and how critical one is about the output). The productivity myth underlying this valuation is the automation of work. If is AI is good because it saves time, then automating more of our work with AI is good because it will save more time. In this AI-infused workflow cycle, where saving time with AI is better than working without it, the automation of work itself becomes the preferred norm.
Put another way, has anyone encouraged using AI to help complete a task more slowly because that task is worth spending time on?
I just spent a bunch of time explaining that idea (thanks for sticking with me) because the productivity myth may take a related form in the world of desk exercise equipment. This equipment is sold as a healthy remedy for the harms of sedentary office work, but it also produces a new idea that exercising while working is good. We save time because we are doing both at once, but in doing so our relationships to work and exercise change.
In “optimizing” work time also as exercise time (or using exercise time to work) then neither work nor exercise needs to be (should be?) the single focus of our time. Whether we are effective working while exercising, or exercising in safe form or duration while working, is beside the point.
Of course, no one lives in this purely either/or world: you can use your Cubii at your desk and still go curling later in the day. And, not every minute of our work day is likely to suffer if we were to divide our attention with light exercise once in awhilr. For fidgety people like myself, physical activity of some sort might indeed promote increased focus during certain tasks.
Furthermore, if you want to exercise at work, you can certainly avoid commodifying it by passing on the costly exercise equipment and opting for brief stretching or body weight exercises. Most importantly, I am certainly not refusing the vast evidence that prolonged seated work is bad for one’s health.
But…in reviewing many review pages of Cubiis (and their first and second cousins) I began reflecting on how serving the myth of productivity means we may be more more likely to buy things that will help us to squeeze more out of our time without questioning the squeezing. When it is always better to optimize by going faster or doing two things at once, we may start to care less about what we are actually doing than how long it takes us to get to the next thing.
