The secret to fitness is fun

 

I am one of those weird people who actually like to exercise. Not that by looking at my body or blood pressure readings, you would know it. I've walked (jogged when younger), biked, and hiked for as long as I can remember. It's what I call a healthy addiction.

I finding walking for exercise easy to do because it is fun. I get outdoors. I hear birds. I look at people. I think shallow thoughts. When walking with others, I enjoy the conversations. I track my walks using MapMyWalk and set goals of speed and distance for myself. 

What I don't find fun are stretching, flexibility and strength exercises. Just no motivation. I am too self-conscious to take group classes. I don't know how to set goals. 

At least until this past week.

My son Brady has long been a video game fanatic, so it was not a big surprise to find he uses games as a part of an exercise routine. He demonstrated his latest acquisition, Nintendo's Ring Fit Adventure when I visited him a couple weeks ago. Standing in front of his big ass TV, with a plastic ring about the size of a steering wheel in his hands and a device strapped around his upper leg, Brady squeezed, pulled, jogged, squatted, and stretched as he watched his character on the screen mimic his actions. But what made the exercise fun, was that he was performing specific tasks in order to complete a virtual adventure - collecting coins, jumping hurdles, defeating monsters. I expressed my awe of such a cool system, despite not really having played many video games since spending way too much time on Lode Runner in the 1980s on my Apple IIc.

So guess what? Last week for my birthday, he gifted me my own Ring Fit game and a Nintendo Switch on which to play it. (I had looked for them in the usual online sources without success, but he found one at a reasonable price on E-Bay.) And just as nice, he helped me get them all connected to my own big ass TV and made sure they worked.

So for the past couple days I've been having a new kind of "fun" while exercising. Once past the initial learning curve of setting up the devices, learning the controls, and configuring one's avatar, the experience is strangely immersive. I stretch and work on flexibility and strength. I have some new goals. I can "compete" with friends and track my efforts. This may become a new "healthy addiction."

Much smarter people than I have long encouraged game-based learning in education. Plenty of people play sports to get exercise. Not sure why the connection between exercise, both mental and physical, and fun has only taken me 68 years to recognize.

How do you make exercise fun?

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Words matter - but it is hard to keep up

Scrabble tournaments had previously allowed slurs on the basis that, however egregious, they are part of the English language. The guiding principle for players has been that points — not messaging or tact — win games. Slurs no longer allowed in competetive Scrabble. Star Tribune, July 27, 2020.

Words have always been the tools of my trade. As a teacher, a writer, a technology director, and a professional speaker, my effectiveness depended in large measure on my ability to use language clearly. Which meant choosing the right words.

It's hard to keep up with language change in a time of fast and vast social change. I just started noticing the term "Latinx" being used instead of Latino or Hispanic or Chicano. "Black" is now capitalized when referring to race, with the verdict still out on b/Brown and w/White. Gender and sexual identity is now LGBTQ (or another combination of these letters and more). I guess I am what is called cisgender instead of heterosexual. Actresses wish to be called actors. Slaves are now referred to as enslaved persons. I honestly want to be polite and respectful of those for whom such words are important. But I step in it now and again.

I've been called on my inadvertent poor choice of words before. Years ago at a conference vendor hall, I was with a small group of librarians and referred to a salesperson as "a real schmuck." One kind woman took me aside and whispered, "You know in Yiddish that means 'penis'." No, I didn't - and had I known it, I'd not have used it.

A Black colleague of mine once made a request that my tech team make a task a priority and get it done in a timely manner. I assured her that I would "crack the whip" and see that it got done ASAP. She looked at me and firmly stated, "I find that expression offensive since it connotes slavery." I immediately protested, of course, trying to assure her that I always thought of mules when I heard the expression. I should have just apologized - and remembered.

What I learned from these incidents was than one can be unintentionally offensive. But still be offensive. And this is, I am sure, in large part why I write or speak little to issues of race or diversity. I've long argued for effective weeding practices in libraries to rid collections of works, especially non-fiction, with dated stereotypes, racist and sexist content. I've argued in national publications that technology directors need to be culturally proficient. I have tried to be racially and gender fair when hiring employees in the technology departments I've managed.

But like many, if not most, older white middle-class men, I tend not to speak to issues of racial, cultural, or sexual diversity. I believe much of my reluctance comes from knowing I lack understanding of those most negatively impacted by white, male societal norms. I grew up in rural Iowa with only white neighbors and classmates and relatives. Both my graduate and undergraduate programs had few if any persons of color in them. I don't believe I had any but white students in my first seven years of teaching in rural Iowa. It was not until I began teaching in Saudi Arabia that I regularly interacted with students and colleagues who were Arab, Indian, and Philippino. To live and work in a predominately white society was not a conscious choice. 

Even in the mid 1990's when I began speaking professionally, my rural Minnesota school district had very few minority students. After giving a keynote early in my career, a woman approached me and called me out for being racist. "What did I say?" I asked in surprise. "It's not what you said, but what you showed on your slides. There were no children of color represented!" I explained that I used photos of actual children from my own district in my presentations and we had very, very few Black or brown students. But I took her comment to heart, and in subsequent presentations, I made a genuine effort to seek out and show photos of a more diverse student body.

This fear of stubbing my verbal toes that keeps me from writing and speaking of matters of race, culture, and gender, is, if you subscribe to the theory of "white fragility" is in itself a form of racism. All I can say is that I recognize this and will attempt to do better in the future. I think often of the lyrics from this song in the muscial Avenue Q:

Everyone's a little bit racist

Sometimes.

Doesn't mean we go

Around committing hate crimes.

Look around and you will find

No one's really color blind.

Maybe it's a fact

We all should face

Everyone makes judgments

Based on race.

My basic philosophy about racism is that being racist is not in one's children's, one's grandchildren's, or one's own best interest. The more people in the world who are happy, productive, proud, safe, healthy, and respected, the better the world is for my family, friends, and me.