Me, six months ago: Those Peloton things are ridiculous. I mean, if you want to spin, go to spin class. Half the fun is being around other people!
Me, six weeks into global pandemic: Do we have room for a Peloton?
I probably should have known; it’s karma. Every single thing that I have ever judged in my life, even silently, especially silently, has come back to haunt me. This should be a lesson to us all. Judge not, or walk a mile in their shoes or any other pithy saying.
Anyway, the Peloton. I love it so much. I can now pretend I’m in a Peloton meme any day of the week.
In terms of having ROOM for the Peloton, well. There was much rejigging and reorganizing of the home gym, and I feel like we literally cannot fit anything more in this house.
The book I read a few weeks ago, Success and Luck, talked about housing sizes and how they have increased enormously relative to real median incomes over the past fifty years. I live in a 1960s bungalow; it’s 1100 square feet on the main floor, with a finished basement of the same. If you popped my great-grandparents, immigrants from Norway and Scotland who lived on the prairies farming, into my house, I am sure it would seem very large and luxurious. But yet this same house might feel unsatisfying to someone today, someone used to ensuite jetted tubs and guest suites and those ubiquitous “bonus rooms.” Do not get me wrong, I love my house. It’s home and I love it very much, but let’s think about how our ideas of a modest house have changed, even since growing up in the 1980s.
It’s interesting to me because I think as time goes by we are collectively going to want a simpler life. A number of friends have whispered to me that secretly, they have been enjoying the slower pace of quarantine life, that really, they don’t miss the hustle and bustle and constant go go go. Late night ice times, early morning swim times, weekends devoted to meets and tournaments and evenings spent in the car, driving to activities, scarfing down whatever sandwich or take-out was available on the way to activities. It’s not a healthy way to spend a life and I think we are all collectively discovering this.
For me, my days used to be spent driving to and from different studios, squeezing in the demands of the household and quickly walking the dog and running to get groceries, wondering if I have time to fold laundry between classes, timing my day down to the minute, always going. I would have never, ever taken the time to walk around the neighbourhood for an hour, and now I do that daily.
I guess what I’m saying is that if anything comes out of this, I think it should be that we take time to examine all the optional things in our lives, to see if they are actually serving us in a way that is healthy and smart.
Friday will mark exactly 14 months since my hip injury, the injury that meant I couldn’t walk without considerable pain – in fact it was months before I could walk without a limp – and I thought my running days were over. I was talking to a friend about adversity, and how we come through it with a new understanding, a new peace, a new appreciation for everything we have.
When I injured my hip, while going through my yoga practice I could not transition between downward dog and warrior 1. I could bring my foot forward but I couldn’t take my hands off the ground; it was far too painful and felt impossible. Now when I go through my sun salutations, every single time I do that transition, I send “thank you” thoughts to my legs and hips. Thank you for holding me up. Thank you for healing and being strong.
As women, we are conditioned to be unhappy with our bodies. I wonder if this is connected somehow to the constant pressure to always push more, to go more, to do more. We are conditioned to disconnect from what our bodies need, and instead we punish them. I bet if you asked a million women, only one would say she was truly happy with her body. There would be women dissatisfied with the size of their thighs, the shape of their butts, their stomachs. But really, our bodies are incredible and deserve our love and gratitude.
I was thinking that this week when I was hiking with my friend Taryn (HI TARYN), how last summer I could not have taken this 16 km hike with lots of elevation, not without considerable pain, anyway. Thank you, body. Thank you, legs. Thank you, hips.
Taking the time to enjoy nature, to not be always worrying about the next thing – if this is what comes out of the pandemic for me, then I’m happy.
I finished two books this week, Primates of Park Avenue is a re-read but it’s really excellent look into a whole different world. If we want to discuss relative wealth and happiness, well. It is worthwhile and fascinating.
Eleanor and Park was recommended to me by my dear friend Allison (HI ALLISON) and I finally read it and understood the hype. It’s great!
The library is open now and god help me, I need an intervention.
Have a beautiful week, my beautiful friends. Be kind to yourselves. xo