When I was in graduate school, a friend was conducting a research study that involved interviewing female students with and without eating disorders. This proved to be more difficult than she anticipated. Of the young women she'd recruited though a randomised process, all but one showed signs of disordered eating: She did not have a sufficient control group. So she dismissed her initial participant pool and tried again, only to get a similar result. Eventually this caused her to change the direction of the investigation: Her inability to recruit a group of university women with no history of eating disorders in itself became the theme of her research.
Looking back at this 10 years later, I don't think that she or I would have qualified for the control group of that study either. While neither anorexic nor bulimic, our eating was not what I would now consider normal. We were hyper-aware of our calorie intake.We knew our precise weights.We paid attention to the times of day we ate. After a meal, we would keep a mental note of the amount of exercise we'd have to do to compensate for it. The truth is, eating at that age for many of us was an inherently conflicted experience, the effect of food on our bodies ever-present in the backs of our minds. We were not fashion models and we were not athletes; we were university students. For most of us, it was not about our looks but about maintaining control in a competitive and stressful environment.
It was also a matter of having lostour natural appetite regulation mechanisms. We counted calories because we genuinely had no idea when we were truly hungry and when we were not. Our hunger and satiation signals were so out of whack with reality that we no longer trusted them.At age 12, feeling hungry simply meant I needed to eat something. But by age 22, this connection had become severed. There was nervous hunger, cravings for comfort food during all the endless studying, emotional eating. Lack of appropriate satiation signals could lead to overeating unless we were vigilant. And so we were, and it made us miserable.
How did this become the norm for so many women? Most likely it began with dieting during our teenage years and spiraled from there. We did not see it as abnormal, because we were neither puking up food nor outright starving ourselves. We were simply "eating healthy," watching our weight, making sure we maintained whatever clothing size we saw as being appropriate for our body types. But in truth we were suffering, and did not know how to put an end to it. In retrospect, I cannot believe how normalised this was in my generation of university women. Most of my female friends, acquaintances and colleagues had these issues and hid them with various degrees of success. Countless male friends have told me that they've never had a girlfriend who was not "weird" about food.
I cannot pinpoint exactly when things began to turn around for me. Possibly it was moving to a large city in my late 20s where I was suddenly doing lots of walking - not for exercise, but as a natural part of living and getting around. But riding a bike was what really accelerated the process of getting my appetite instincts back on track, so the connection is a strong one for me. Experiencing my body as a useful machine and not just as a bothersome appendage to my brain was what really did it. Through cycling I began to think of food as fuel. If I wanted to ride, I had to eat. And at age 30, for the first time in what must have been 15 years, I was once again able to eat when hungry and stop when full, just like I did when I was a child.
Since I began writing this blog, I have spoken with many, many women cyclists who describe similar experiences. Regaining trust in their hunger and satiation instincts for the first time since their pre-teens has been a gift more dear than they can express. And while cycling is not the only way to achieve this, it is certainly a great way, both fun and practical. Here's to all the women out there, cycling up an appetite.
7:00 a. m. Walking over to the marsh boardwalk.
7:07 a. m. From the middle of the boardwalk.
7:13 a. m. From the far side of the boardwalk.
7:18 a. m. From a distance, using the telephoto feature.
7:22 a. m. From the same spot as the previous photo.
7:24 a. m. The morning has risen.
7:32 a. m. My only companions were the birds.
The “Happy 101” award is making the rounds in geneablogger land and I'm happy to say that it has been given to me three times! I've received it from Carol at Reflections from the Fence, Harriet at Genealogy Fun, and Bill at West in New England.
About a year ago, I briefly test-rode a Brompton folding bicycle and wrote about it here. We've been toying with the idea of getting Bromptons since before I started this blog, but it just hasn't happened. For one thing, I am not all that attracted to folders. They are fascinating, but they don't excite me in a way that would make purchasing one feel like an absolute priority. On some level, I also just instinctively don't trust that a small folding bike is as versatile and convenient as some claim: Is it really a good idea to ride a tiny bike in city traffic, where you want maximum visibility?Can a bike like this possibly handle hills? And don't those small wheels make for a harsh ride? My short encounter with the bike last year was insufficient to answer these questions, so I decided to test ride it properly once and for all. Harris Cyclerykindly lent me their demo model for this purpose. I left my own bike at Harris and rode home on the Brompton, then brought it back two days later.
The model I rode was the P6L-X, which means that it is set up with "butterfly" trekking handlebars, 6 speeds, fenders but no rear rack. The "X" at the end indicates that the frame is the lightweight version - with titanium fork and rear triangle. Generally Bromptons are available either all-steel or with titanium parts, either with or without fenders and racks, with a variety of gearing options, with or without dynamo lighting, and with a choice of handlebar styles.
Here are the three styles of handlebars next to one another: the "S" type (mountain bike style straight bars), the "M" type (traditional upright bars), and the "P" type (trekking or "butterfly" bars).
I chose a model with the trekking bars, because I was worried that my hands would bother me in the limited hand positions afforded by the other styles. I have problems with the nerves in my hands that make it difficult to hold them in the straight-in-front position for more than a few minutes at a time, so I did not want to take chances on the 9 mile ride home that awaited me.
The gearing on the 6-speed Brompton is interesting in that it includes both a hub and a derailleur. The shifter on the right handlebar operates the 3-speed Sturmey Archer hub, while the shifter on the left operates the 2-speed derailleur.
Here is a close-up of the hub and derailleur together.
And a panned out view. Notice also the titanium rear triangle in this picture.
Titanium fork.
The crown on these forks is made in the style of the Raleigh/ Pashley fork, which looks very cute in miniature. On the all-steel models, the fork crowns look like this.
There is lots of debate among Brompton owners regarding whether the lightweight option is worth the hefty upcharge it fetches. The titanium parts reduce the weight of the bicycle by 2lb, and some claim that they also improve ride quality. Others claim that there is no difference in ride quality, and that the weight difference is negligible. Even after having tried both versions, I am unsure where I stand on this one. The online consensus appears to be that the lightweight package is not worth the price, but in person more than half of theBromptonowners I meet are sporting the titanium parts - shrugging diplomatically when questioned about its "value." Make what you will of that!
As I wrote in my previous review, everything on the Brompton is impeccably made, proprietary and adorable. The tiny fenders with tiny mudflaps are particularly endearing.
The little wheels mounted at the rear are so that the bicycle can be rolled when folded. 
The staff at Harris Cycleryshowed me how to fold and unfold the bike and attached a huge basket to the front, so that I could carry all of my stuff home. I first rode on the streets behind the store without the basket, just to get used to the bike. Because the Brompton is so low to the ground and has such small wheels, it initially gives the impression of being a very long bike and this took me some getting used to. It also felt "different" from normal bikes when starting from a stop: At first there was an odd sensation of momentary front end wobble when starting, so I practiced starting and stopping at intersections until it felt natural. Then I mounted the front basket and set off.
There is a lot of talk about small wheeled bikes having a "harsh ride quality," so here is my take on it.When riding the Brompton, I was aware of aconstant, but extremely subtle feeling of road vibration regardless of whether the road was smooth or bumpy. This sounds worse than it actually is, so let me clarify: There was no pain or sense of being "knocked about" associated with what I am describing, just a very tiny, barely perceptible "shimmy" type sensation. Interestingly, when the bicycle actually went over bumps - even sizable ones - it handled them better than the average full-sized bike. So: I am okay with the subtle shimmy if it comes with the superior ability to swallow bumps, but others might not agree. Best thing to do is to test ride the bike and see how you feel about the ride quality - but "harsh" would not be a word I'd use to describe it at all. I can imagine riding the Brompton long distances on bad roads.
The trekking handlebars were not as helpful as I had hoped in allowing for a variety of hand positions. I mostly kept my hands on the tops and occasionally on the corners. It is not possible to reach the brakes from the other positions, but moreover the other positions are not especially comfortable. I've been told by several Bromptonretailers now that many customers prefer the traditional M-bar, but with bar-end attachments that will allow for a more ergonomic hand placement.
Both the Co-Habitant and I rode the Brompton repeatedly over the course of the two days I had it on loan. My positive impressions included the high quality of the build, the smoothness over bumps, the maneuverability, the ease of mounting and dismounting (low step-over), the compact size, and the amazing load capacity. This bike is designed for enormous front bags, plus whatever the rear rack can fit - I had no idea it could carry this much stuff. And as far as aesthetics, I find the Brompton charmingly eccentric, and would be fine riding it. My favourite colour option is the raw lacquer, though I also love the new sage green. My not so positive impressions included the weight (a 20lb folding bike?), and the fact that should you not wish to drag the bike around with you everywhere, it is not so easy to lock up safely. While I know that most people are crazy about the famous Brompton fold, I am neutral about it. Maybe I'm just being difficult, but I don't get the miracle there: Okay, so it folds... Isn't that the whole point of a folding bike? But I am only partly serious and I do understand that it folds better than the other folders out there. It is a neat design that is especially conducive for travel - which is precisely why we are considering it. 
Because I respect her opinion on bicycle-related matters, Justine's preference for 
trip into town and we spent a short day at Meadow Run. We hopped right on Captain Caveman. Joel tried first since he hadn't had a chance yet... He fell a few times, but got up through it. I got on to give it a try. I wasn't feeling too positive due to the fact that I felt pumped from my previous day attempt. Surprisingly I sent Captain Caveman first try. Joel tied back in and promptly sent in fine style. Next Joel wanted to try Anger management M6+. He tied in started up. For mental pro he got a stubbie to go in ab
out 5 rotations till it hit rock then tied it off. Upward Joel went passing the first bolt and into the overhangs. Quickly learning that the 2nd bolt was way out of reach (now that the rodi stummp is gone), he backed off and down climbed to the ground. Having longer reach, I opted to go up and climb the route and installing a longer runner on the 2nd bolt so that Joel could make the clip. I went up to Joel's highpoint and worked into the clipping hook... What a looooong reach that clip is. Any shorter arms and I don't think I would've got it. I fired up into the ice finish, installing a near worthless screw at the lip, clipping it and gunning for the top. Seemed much harder than I remembered... Joel tied in and gave it a second go. He smoothed up throu
gh the route eventually pumping out at the lip. He hung body weight from the screw I placed and installed a 2nd (good) screw. He finished it without issue. He wanted to try again, but I had obligations and needed to leave. So we decided to leave fixed gear on the bolts for Joel when he comes back.
The Great Forest Park Balloon RaceSt. Louis, Missouri September 1994Copyright © 1994/.. by Rebeckah R. Wiseman
I was so touched that she'd share her life with me so freely and I hope I extended the compassion that I felt in my heart when she shared about being here without extended family around. While I can feel pouty about this or that in my life, she helped me to remember that most of the people I love the most are still here for me to see and visit with and talk to. And that's a pretty huge thing. She reminded me that while I lived for a season where I felt pretty lonely neighbor wise, I have now had a season where neighbors are abundant because most people in this country are still very neighborly. She reminded me of the other reason I love to travel. The people. They are every bit as incredible as the landscape! 
There seems to be more water in this creek at the bottom of a rocky canyon on the road where the Gillman Tunnels are than I have seen in several years. That is really good.
