The Winter Paralympics is a smaller event than the Olympics, but like its counterpart, it had some impressive older women participating. I’m sure I missed a few so please let me know who I should be adding.
Clockwise from top left: Ina Forrest (paralympic.ca), Collinda Joseph (Reuters/Louisa Gouliamaki), Andrea Eskau (Paralympic.org), Cécile Hernandez (France Paralympique),
Wheelchair Curler Ina Forrest, 63, is making her fifth consecutive appearance at the Paralympics. She’s the oldest member of the Canadian Paralympic team. Forrest has won a medal at every Games she’s competed in (starting in 2010) including three golds and two bronze. If you didn’t watch any of this year’s curling, go find some highlight reels. It was very exciting.
Collinda Joseph 60, is a two-time Paralympian and Team Canada’s gold-medal-winning wheelchair curling lead. Joseph played wheelchair basketball for many years but first tried curling in 2006 and fell in love with the sport .
Cécile Hernandez is a 51-year-old French para-snowboarder and four-time Paralympic medallist, with gold medals from Beijing 2022 and Milano Cortina 2026, a silver medal from Sochi 2014, and both a silver and a bronze from PyeongChang 2018.
Andrea Eskau, who will turn 55 tomorrow, has competed at every Summer and Winter Games since making her debut at Beijing 2008, except for the 2022 Winter Games. In the winter, she competes in Para biathlon and Para cross-country skiing, and in the summer, she races in Para cycling. She has won four golds and a bronze at three different summer games, four silvers and a bronze in cross-country skiing, and three golds and a bronze in biathlon. She competed in five events at Milano-Cortina and her best result was 4th in cross-country skiing.
I volunteered this week at The Grand Slam of Curling event, The AMJ Masters, which features 16 top men’s teams and 16 top women’s teams. Many are from North America, but other countries like Korea, Japan, and Switzerland are also representing.
Sign that says Welcome to the Grand Slam of Curlingt (GSOC)
There’s a lot I like about this curling event. The teams aren’t mixed gender, but the draws schedule them to play at the same time. That means you can watch four men’s and four women’s teams competing side by side on the same ice. I’m still newish to curling, so this was an exciting sports-watching experience for me!
Curlers on the ice sliding to stretch and warm up.
Team members wear matching kits, and their stretchy deliveries and hard sweeping show a shared level of fitness for fast-paced, eight-end games. But body sizes vary. Some athletes wear glasses (rather than contacts), while others sport baseball caps. There’s some small room to bring one’s style, and self, to the ice.
Men’s and women’s teams playing at the same time on different sheets
Near the end of the tournament there is a GSOC Pride Night, with a discounted tickets, beverage specials, and a post-game Pride event featuring live drag performances. Apparently there is a karaoke night too! It is great to see the sport evolving with the community it has always been about.
Sign says Karaoke on Saturday. GSOK Grand Slam of Karaoke
GSOC is still a private, for-profit organization with no standalone policy on gender identity and expression (that I could find), unlike the non-profit, development-focused Curling Canada. Shared ice time and inclusive events show curling’s welcoming spirit. Maybe the GSOC will follow Curling Canada’s lead by eventually offering a similar policy.
Still, it’s a privilege to volunteer for this event, and not only because I get to see up close some fantastic curling by teams from around the world. I hope organizations like GSOC keep making curling fun and celebratory of the many ways curling athletes are different and differently awesome.
In the arena, with four sheets and an audience
Plus, there’s even delicious snacks for volunteers. Thanks Denise!
Here are some things to really, really love about curling:
It’s ridiculously fun. I laugh until I almost pee, at least 4 times a game. A game is under 2 hours, so that’s a belly laugh / half hour. While sporting! Pretty good, hey?
For a sport, it’s not very expensive. When I was a kid, our extremely modest-single income family of 5 meant we could only do some sports, and only up until a certain $$. For instance, I was actually a very promising figure skater. But my parents pulled me out of it when I got to the level where, to go further, I needed competitive skates and private lessons and (!) a twirly dress. And then, myself, as a graduate student + single, sole-support parent of twins, who did not own a car, all sports were out of our reach, financially. The only sports my kids were able to do were the ones through their school. Thank goodness! As an adult, I learned how to play golf and hockey (there was no hockey when I was a girl. See note about figure skating). But lordy! The fees for a round, and the fees for joining a league, let alone all the equipment, are very prohibitive. And that is for someone whose body is not growing a full new size every year (well, trying not to). I cannot imagine how parents of modest income are able to put their kids into most sports, and to continue to support them if they are talented. Curling, on the other hand, is pretty darned affordable. You really don’t need much equipment, and in fact, most clubs have brooms and shoes you can borrow for a game here and there.
When I’m playing a game, and I look around me, I see every single body shape, size, age. Very big women and very small men. Anything goes! (I often think of the work of Sam Brennan on this point). There are teams made up of a 16 year old, a 35 year old, a 66 year old and a 92 year old. I think when I first played, in Cochrane, I was in high school. My women’s “Wednesday Night Team” was exactly like that! There are smart adaptations that keep you in the game, even if your knees or hips are blown out.
You can play very competitively when you are very pregnant. (Um…Pregnancy can really get in the way of life. Not with curling…) What other sports are like this?
I am a very, very mediocre curler. And proud of that. That is also something I love about the game. You can be crappy, mediocre or Monsieur Brad Gushue or Madame Ice-in-her-Veins Rachel Homan, and still make a shot or miss a shot. Curling just has a pretty sweet spot of skill-luck built into it. That is super great for keeping people in the game (I remember trying to play soccer. Once. I am a very very not-good soccer player… the ball almost never came to me. I was cold and lonely and miserable. When it did, I flubbed it. Rather than everyone laughing in a friendly way, and me going back to play the next week, I had that awful awful shame-y feeling that so many kids and then adults have had, in sport. CRAP! Come curl! You can undo that shittiness, friends!)
So: Last night, I had the most hilariously over-the-top Scotties-Level-Game of my life. I made a QUADRUBLE-RAISE take-out, and stuck the button. I then made a TRIPLE-RAISE take-out, and stuck the button. Then I made a double take-out and stayed in the house. Um, for those of you who curl, you know how wild that is. Basically unheard of. Maybe ONE of those shots wins your team the pennant. Not 3 of them! It would be like hitting 4 walk-off home runs with bases loaded, in a single game! Like hitting 16, 3-pointers in a single game (take that, Klay Thompson!). Like scoring 10 goals in a soccer match (hello Mr. Messi! hello Ms. Sinclair!!) Like making 5 very far-running touchdowns (okay, you caught me, I know nothing about football except that that popular singer now dates a football guy. Okay you caught me, I know nothing about Taylor Swift, either). The point is not to brag. (Though I feel like I am within my rights to brag, lol). The point is that there is something about this game, this sport, that is completely unlike others. You can’t just be a mediocre gymnast or an average figure-skater and then, one night, because you are wearing the right sox, you do 4 triple lutz-es. You can’t. You just cannot. But with curling you can. It’s a lovely magical mystery that made everyone laugh their heads off last night, me included. (Yes, I’m going to buy a lottery ticket today)
I met my wunderbar life-partner Rob, there. We played 2 or 3 games against one another the first season we both joined independently…that was almost 16 years ago. We got to know each other casually but meaningfully, socially, without being in a drinky-bar or under the pressure that comes with on-line dating. Curling is so dorky, like an old timey square dance, or a Friday night Euchre club — you really do “mix” with everyone. Rob is almost 20 years younger than me, and can’t spell his way out of a paper bag. I’m almost 20 years older than him and wildly over-educated. Those facts alone would have told our “dating algorithms” that we were not “matchable.” You know what? We are very well matched. Sometimes you really need to be in old-timey scrambler social situations to meet new people, people in totally different lines of work, in totally different income brackets, etc… There is a lovely etiquette to the game, regardless of the level of competition (shake hands and introduce yourselves beforehand, and say: “Good Curling!”… and then after, the 8 of you sit around a round table and chat for a bit. Or just listen to convos about something other than what you spend most of your time thinking and talking about. This is so very not a “shop-talk” space. (A side bar: I think I’m quasi-responsible for getting at least 4 other couples, coupled, on account of urging to curl!) People: as we all know from experience and from stats: loneliness is prevalent and it is a killer disease. Curling clubs (even if you are not curling!) are places you can go that are warm, busy, friendly and are not trying to sell you something you don’t need. I wish Eleanor Rigby had had a curling club nearby….
I admit: it is still a very white and cis-g game, and pretty straight straight, but not totally. What I can see, though, is that it is a social space & a deeply open social game that can and will become more diverse, very easily and very happily, for all! In fact, the Guelph Curling Club just renovated and installed all-gender single-stall accessible washrooms on the main floor. I clapped!! I was NOT expecting that, there. And you know what? The curling people are such a multitude that an accepting, inclusive attitude is the norm.
Seriously. It’s so good.
Background image: a curling rink with the blue and red rings.
Overlaid: a man and a woman with cartoon characters of curling attire.
Bio : Former professor of Philosophy at the U of G, currently full-time social-environmental activist (artofsoil.ca). And curler.
Earlier this year I started a new hobby: ringing in a handbell choir. (See what is a bell choir.) It’s not a physical activity per se, but we see health holistically around here and I’ll bring it back to the fitness stuff.
My previous experience with playing music is next to nil. My only musical training was when I was nine: less than two years of organ lessons and I faked sick for the final recital. I even missed mandatory band class later in my youth because we moved school systems.
So, without the ability to read music it’s no exaggeration that I’m a weak ringer. My mistakes are also easy to notice when I play with folks who have been ringing in church choirs for years. I am also the youngest person with the exception of the conductor, who motivates to keep ringing.
How? She is encouraging, and when she is not actively encouraging she still withholds any negativity. She maintains a neutral positive face, the kind you’re supposed to have when you interview someone for a job. Sometimes she asks only some of us to replay certain sections, and she slows us down, but she never draws attention to me when I make mistakes and I never catch disappointed looks.
I know it’s not always easy for more seasoned folks—especially in groups—to exercise patience around novices. On Monday nights at my curling club I see Scott McDonald giving “Learn to Curl” lessons, and I think: how does this high-ranking curler train these totally new curlers and not get frustrated? Perhaps good trainers are experts, but not all experts are good trainers.
Also, perhaps in times of declining numbers in bell choirs and curling clubs, some folks know they must check their impatience because of what will happen if they don’t. When errors are frequent and progress is slow, novices like me can get discouraged and feel like quitting, even in a supportive learning environment.
So here’s my point: My bell choir experience has reminded me that encouragement and praise are important, even when (especially when?) novices make mistakes. If you are good at something, you may notice mistakes that others make, but it may not help to point them out, even in the spirit of helpfulness. Newbies are probably trying even harder than you are to be patient with themselves. Instead, kind words (even if they seem unearned) might help folks stay in activities that need numbers—so you can keep doing them too.
As I was preparing for the Senior Canadian Curling Championships my recurring knee and shoulder injuries were making it hard for me to curl my best. On the ice, I was in constant pain. I needed to get help and to get help fast. A local physiotherapist was recommended to me, but I was skeptical. I’ve been to a dozen physiotherapists, without much luck. Many have made assumptions about my physical ability and age, which ticked me off. At the same time, I was desperate to relieve the pain. Why? It wasn’t so I could get a better sleep or take less Ibuprofen, it was so that I could curl better — full stop. That’s what a lifetime of competing, pushing, and playing does. The academic in me is critical of this. The curler in me is not. The aging woman in me … well the jury is still out because, I can’t lie, it’s getting harder.
When you identify as a curler you tend to get curling related presents that I love, like this beautiful, handcrafted ornament from my daughter for Christmas.
I reluctantly made an appointment with my physiotherapist, Nelson, who turned out to be very young and very fit. This could go badly, I thought. As he was collecting information about me, he learned that I was a curler. He very quickly informed me that he is often mistaken for one of Canada’s most famous curlers, Brad Gushue (2022 Canadian Men’s Olympic Skip).
Connection made … check. Rapport built … check.
As Nelson was assessing my injuries, he told me that “the best thing for you to do right now is rest, but I know you are not going to do that so let’s see what we can do”. I liked this for a couple of reasons. First, there was nothing said about being a woman of a certain age and the importance of scaling back at that age; things that I have heard way too often. Second, he respected that I am an athlete who needs to curl, and to curl well.
Five weeks later and we were off to our competition. I felt a lot better. Not perfect, merely better. But then, what is feeling perfect? For me, there is not a day that goes by where I don’t feel physical pain. As I’m writing this post, my hamstrings are sore, different bits in my back are stiff, and my shoulders ache. As a society, our tendency is to attribute the pain I feel to the fact that I am a 56-year-old woman. But this kind of attribution is simplistic, essentialist, and quite frankly, ageist.
Ageist assumptions about pain permeate other domains of life too. Several years ago, my colleague, Kim Shuey, and I wrote a paper on aging and the perception of disability in the workplace. We found that workers who attribute their disability to aging are less likely to ask for workplace accommodations and are less likely to receive them even if they do ask.
Feeling “perfect” for me is living with some degree of pain, regardless of my age. It is difficult for me to know how much of my pain I should blame on aging or the spinal fusion surgery I had when I was 11 years old to improve a major case of scoliosis. My back is fused from top to bottom, and as a result, other body parts get stretched to their limits. I don’t think that I have lived a day since my surgery where I haven’t experienced pain. I’m used to it and I’m telling you this because it shows that we need to interrogate our assumptions about the relationship between aging and pain.
Interrogating, however, does not mean ignoring. Competing, pushing, and playing is getting harder. Particularly over the last 5 years, recovery time is longer, more body parts hurt at once, and injury is more prevalent. All of this makes the motivation to train more challenging; especially with a pandemic making it unclear whether my team will have an opportunity to play. Why continue? Because I love curling, the curling community, the exercise, and competing.
So, what says the aging woman jury? — Rest!
But I think not. I guess my identity as a curler is stronger than my identity as an older woman, at least for today.
Or my favourite toque hand knit by the fabulous Dr. Lauren Briens.
I am a curler, and I’ve been curling since I was 12 years old. Some of you may know my sport. Others may be wondering about what it is or have a vague idea that it is an Olympic sport played on ice. In our household, when we ask Alexa what its favourite sport is, the reply is this; “Curling is my kind of game, it’s like chess on ice, if chess was played with tiny brooms”. As scary as it is that Alexa responds to us this way, we have often referred to the strategy involved in curling as, ‘chess on ice’. Good curlers think three to four moves in advance as they plan their play. Curling brooms aren’t that tiny though. They are about four feet-long, they are made of a light durable material with a fabric bottom that is used to brush the ice surface. Curling is a difficult game to explain, and I can’t do it justice here. If you want to learn more, check out the World Curling Federation’s 2-minute guide to curling.
One member of the team directs the play, a second throws the curling stone, and the remaining two members of the team sweep.Photo credit: Robert Davies
Since 1988, when curling was a demonstration sport at the Calgary Olympics, it has been the brunt of jokes. Late-night television hosts and comedians seem to get a big kick out of it (see Ellen Degeneres, James Corden, Stephen Colbert, and Rick Mercer to name a few). It has made appearances on The Simpsons, The Little Mosque on the Prairie, and in several movies (e.g., Help) and songs (e.g., The Weakerthans’ Tournament of Hearts). In the best-case scenario, my sport is depicted as a novelty, but in most cases, it’s seen as a bit of a joke. Just last week, Saturday Night Live made fun of curling after NBC pulled their broadcasting of the International Olympic Qualifying tournament because it had a sex toy company as one of its leading sponsors. This is a story so interesting that it deserves its own post!
Am I offended by these jokes? Not really. Whenever curling gets mentioned or when I see images related to curling, I get excited because it means that my sport is no longer ignored. But it is odd to be an athlete who plays a sport that most folks either don’t know about or don’t take very seriously. Yet, the fitness, agility, strength, precision, and mental resilience required to curl should not be discounted. My family and I have taught a lot of athletes from other sports how to curl, and without exception they say “this is harder than it looks”. A few former NFL players decided to get a team together so that they could represent the United States at the Olympics in curling. That didn’t go so well.
Images of curling rocks used to identify physical distancing in Vancouver.
My Nova Scotian curling team recently competed at the Canadian Senior (aged 50 and over) Women’s Curling Championships. As an aside, the title sponsor for this event is a funeral concierge service, which makes most of us laugh. We played 12 games (each game lasts about 2 hours) over 6 days and finished with a bronze medal. Bronze medal games are tough but I’m proud that my team hung in there. On our way home, we arrived at the Toronto Airport and of all days, the escalator to get to our gate was broken. Ouch!, is all I have to say about that.
Team Nova Scotia after winning bronze at the Canadian Senior Women’s curling championship. Four very happy women!Photo Credit: Curling Canada
I am an old (er), competitive curler, and I love my sport. My relationship with curling has changed over the years but my identity as a curler has not. I’m becoming very interested in how athletes age within a sport and how this relates to their identity. But more on that another time.
For my whole life I knew nothing about the sport beyond that it resembled the shuffleboard table in my grandparents’ basement and it was a Winter Olympics sport (again). I hadn’t even seen the Canadian romantic comedy, Men with Brooms (2002), with Leslie Nielson.
Then, in 2020—pandemic year 1–I joined a curling club. I am not amazing at curling, but thanks to many supportive players I picked it up faster than I picked up soccer as an adult.
Now in my second season of curling, I’ve discovered that this sport is growing its inclusivity and fitness focus, yet remains rooted in etiquette and community. Let me tell you a little about what I’ve learned about curling!
Curling is for Many People
Curling is an olympic and paralympic sport, with medals for four-person women and men’s teams. Men and women can play and compete together in mixed leagues and on mixed doubles teams (two people instead of four), since finesse matters as much as strength.
Curling is also a recreational sport for youths, seniors, and everyone in between. Learn to curl clinics are put on annually by curling clubs, and online information for new curlers is widely available.
There are various support tools for all types of curlers. These “sticks” and “crutches” aid the release of the curling rock that travels down the 146 to 150 feet of ice, providing stability and balance for players. The supports also alleviate pressure on the knees and body, giving all kinds of bodies a chance to curl.
Screenshot of Google search for “curling sticks and crutches”
Curling associations, such as Curling Canada, encourage the sport’s accessibility. The Ontario Curling Council explains that wheelchair curling leagues and curling competitions are available for those who are non-ambulant or can only walk short distances. Canada boasts talented, award-winning visually impaired and wheelchair teams.
In terms of gender inclusivity, my teammate tells me that some larger clubs have open and LGBTQ+ leagues. More clubs are also drafting inclusion policies, showing that this once traditional and gender-siloed sport is striving to grow and change with the times.
Curling clubs have existed in Canada since 1807, with the first curling club located in Montreal. Today, you can find curling clubs throughout Canada, but more than half of these clubs are still located in small towns.
Sports and recreation foster not only healthy activity but also local community. Studies have shown that curling supports the health and wellness of rural women and older adults. I hear that many people grew up with curling in the family (so kids learn to play whether they want to or not).
In the country and the city, curling has a reputation for courtesy. League games are non-refereed. Curlers are supportive and unpretentious. (When you throw a rock really well, you celebrate by complimenting your sweepers.) It is customary for the winning team to buy the first round of drinks for the losing team after the game. (This tradition of sitting together post-game was temporarily suspended during the COVID-19 pandemic.)
Curling has a reputation as a sport for being more recreational than rigorous. However, the author of this article from The Cut describes how throwing and sweeping rocks over two hours led her to conclude curling is a good interval workout. One study that measured participant heart rates after sweeping suggests that fitness training can help avoid fatigue during curling. At the competitive level, where athletes curl 10 ends a game and play multiple games in a tournament, mental and physical training is now standard.
The media is increasingly hyping the athleticism of the curling, and paying more attention to the bodies of players. An NPR article from 2014 describes the need for curlers to be extremely fit, not just for the sport but for the tight uniforms. The fitness element of curling also got press when “Superwoman” curler Rachael Homan won curling titles while 8-months pregnant and then again just 3 weeks after delivery.
My Oura fitness tracker ring tells me I don’t yet get a high intensity workout from curling, but I only play one 8-end game once a week. Watching others, I’m pretty sure that I would be a stronger sweeper and have more controlled throws if I were in better shape. So I might pick up one of the books available on curling training and strategy, such as Fit to Curl (2016) or Curl to Win (2010).
Still Learning about Curling
Curling was going to be my “retirement sport”—in another 15 or 20 years. But without other regular indoor winter sports to keep me active during the COVID-19 pandemic, I advanced my timeline (not the retirement part, sadly). I’m glad I did. It’s been a physical and social activity that has had many benefits for me.
Thanks to my teammates and my league, I am eager to continue to learn more about this sport, which is in fact way more complex than grandparents’ basement shuffleboard. I am grateful to the St. Thomas Curling Club, which has gone to great lengths to adjust the rules and maintain the safety of its members during the pandemic.
If you curl, what brought you to the sport? If you don’t, would you like to try?
