women should lift weights because it prevents osteoporosis in old age and makes you a more capable person in everyday life please shut up about butts and waists and hourglasses i’m going to fucking kill
;___;♡♡♡♡
genuine question from someone who would rather chew their arm off than go to a public gym, and also doesnt have a lot of money: how do you safely get into strength training? are there youtube channels, apps (android), etc anyone recommends that makes it approachable and don’t lean into diet culture / body shaming?
also the biggest thing that keeps me from working out is that I already have joint and spinal issues and moving the wrong way can fuck up a knee or a shoulder or my spine for days. I really don’t want to injure myself, and have unwittingly done so before. resources that are extremely clear on exactly how to move and offer gentler / alternative ways to move for people with limited range are vital.
Okay, so this may not technically be strength training, but muscles are dumber than bricks and cannot tell the difference between your own bodyweight and actual weights.
He runs a YouTube channel where he goes over how to work your way up to more complex exercises (for instance, his pull-ups videos start with using a door jamb and moving your weight back and forth) so it’s good for easing yourself into things.
You also don’t have to fork out for expensive weights and such if you don’t want to/can’t. Substitute with stuff you either already have at home or can get from the supermarket and build up the weight you can exercise with. 500 gram cans of butter beans then 750 gram bottles of pasta sauce. 1 litre drink bottle then your 1.5 litre milk bottle. 3 litre bulk-buy bottle of laundry detergent. Etc. One of my dogs weighs 13 kilos and I pick her up on the regular (to her delight). One weighs 16 kg and I pick him up too (to his consternation and mild disapproval). You don’t have to fit out some fancy home gym before you can start strength training.
I second Hybrid Calisthenics, that’s the program I use. It’s run by one guy who’s taken it upon himself to make exercising more accessible and it’s completely free! Each exercise has different variations based on your ability and each variation is further divided into different levels of difficulty so you can work up to where you want to be. If you can’t do a single push up for example then this program will help you work up to the point where you can, and if you’re a master of push ups then there are more advanced body weight exercises you can tackle so you can keep moving forward in your training without stagnating. The routine offers a full body workout with absolutely no equipment required for the beginning levels. The only reason you would need to buy anything is if you want to work up to a full pull up, at which point you would need actual pull up rings
Here’s his actual website which I feel is easier to navigate than the YouTube channel on its own and organizes things in a way that’s easy to understand. He explains everything you need to know about the routine and each individual exercise has both a text description and a video tutorial
In both Claudia’s Do As I Do book and [redacted]’s training semester, it talks about remembering “functional replication”.
e.g. Some dogs will do fine at understanding that when you pick up something with your hands, they can pick it up with their mouth. While other dogs take the demonstration more literally and may try to paw at the object.
It’s seeming to me, that Thistle may be falling in the latter category and that is why she is giving some….interesting…results.
But if *I* change how I demonstrate it, she will be fully ‘correct’.
Something for me to keep in mind.
The dog thinking of it’s hind legs as the same as human legs is so fascinating to me.
[ID: Four gifs of a human and a dog in a room with a chair.
In the first gif, the human stands on the chair. In the second gif, the dog puts its hind legs on the chair, but doesn’t sit on it. In the third gif, the human climbs on the chair with their hands and feet like a dog. In the fourth gif, the dog jumps onto the chair with all of its feet, kicking off of the chair and making it fall over. /end ID]
I bet octopuses think bones are horrific. I bet all their cosmic horror stories involve rigid-limbs and hinged joints.
To an octopus, a human is like a thinking being with blood-stained coral growing inside it.
I need to sit down and breathe into a bag for a while.
Its parts were obscenely limited in their movement. Each hinge could open or close only a small amount before reaching its limit, yet by working in concert they demonstrated unexpected dexterity, moving and manipulating the objects before it with cunning equal to my own. It was more torso than limb, as though a seal had been stretched and warped, given long grasping tentacles filled with bones like bars of coral. It’s head was most horrid of all, flat and ovoid, jutting out too small from the trunk as though it belonged to a beast half its size.
The thing rose upon its lowermost appendages, two long trunks that ended in flat, protruding flippers that branched into stubby, grasping mockeries of a sucker. It’s triple-hinged uppermost limbs were similar, but the ends branched into five smaller tentacles, each with three hinges of their own.
I froze, as the thing’s gaze fell upon me and it opened its hideous fish-jaw, filled with thick, many-shaped teeth like white shards of stone, and spoke in a shrill, discordant babble. I felt its horrid dry grip on my flesh, as those hinged appendages closed on me like the legs of a crab.
I felt the heat of its body, tasted its noxious, oily flesh through my touch, and prepared for the end, and all went black as a swoon overtook me.
I awoke, some time later, the cold and comforting water, banished back to the comfort of the sea and the dark. I should be grateful I am alive. I should cast aside the experience like a half-remembered dream.
I shall never again go swimming in search of lights above. The last thing I recall before the darkness took me was my right eye popping free of the thing’s grasp enough to see into the distance for one brief moment.
I saw thousands of lights.
ok so it turns out “horror but it’s about something mundane from the perspective of a non-human animal” fucks severely
No it fucking doesn’t. It wasn’t sunscreen. None of you fuckers can read late Egyptian (it’s cooking oil) and this was part payment because there was a fucking FAMINE.
Learn the difference between “can afford to pay and won’t” and “cannot afford to pay and tries anyway”
Also stop putting US working condition context onto an event from 1200 BCE I am literally fucking begging you at this point. I covered this at length earlier this year on this very post.
THERE she is! XD
I’m far from an expert here, but wasn’t a large part of wages being eaten (see what I did there?) by the food expense because of that famine, too?
(yep, just scrolled and found your other response that states, yes, food was a major part of the wages and this was literally a part of the back pay)
They’re literally paid in food! It’s a non monetary economy, so being part paid with cakes and bread from the governor (which were accepted fyi. The workers didn’t reject this payment) was them actually being given wages. Except there was nothing left in the granaries so this food came from the governors own food storage and it still wasn’t enough. I cannot stress enough that literally no one had enough food. They’re not being denied wages because of greed, they’re being denied because there’s literally nothing to give. In the papyrus it states that they go around granaries from neighbouring nomes (like counties) to try to make up the amount needed and they simply can’t. These workers are taken seriously because they’re blocking access to the mortuary temples of dead kings, denying them an afterlife and thus putting the very act of the sun rising in the morning (which dead kings are responsible for as they become the god Ra) in jeopardy according to Egyptian religious belief.
Calling it a pizza party and equating it to capitalist bullshit is not only ignoring the context it comes from (where capitalism doesn’t exist) but does these striking workers a disservice.
Also the guy in the tweets kept linking sources and I kept telling him he interpreted them wrong and I knew it because the person being cited for these sources, the person who provided the information, was me.
1,500 drones light up the sky over Shenzhen on June 22 with a flying dragon
this amazing display kicked off China’s Dragon Boat Festival, taking place on the 5th day of the 5th month of the Chinese calendar, commemorating the ancient poet Qu Yuan
“Mom, there’s someone under the bed.” You bend down and see your son there instead and he whispers “Mom that’s not me up there!” You take a step back when someone tugs your shirt. You turn, your son is in the closet asking “who are they?” You suddenly hear him calling from downstairs “Mommy?”
You sigh, raising your voice so that all of your sons can hear you. “All right, everyone into the kitchen. Now.” Hearing a shuffle in the attic, you add, “Yes, Duncan, that includes you.”
You don’t see any movement as you go down the stairs, but you’re used to that. You know they’ll all be there by the time you walk through the kitchen door.
As usual, your children have all fitted themselves into the kitchen. The dimensions of the room are a little wobbly with so many of them present, but you’ve long ago learned to ignore how the laws of physics only occasionally apply to them. A host of little faces look up at you anxiously, and you smile gently.
“It’s okay, none of you are in trouble,” you reassure them. They relax - and how astonishing is it, that they trust you so much? You’re so proud of their progress.
One, however, still looks nervous. You beckon him forward, and he comes reluctantly, shoved by his identical older brothers.
“Are you new?” you ask carefully.
He nods, and you drop to one knee. “It’s okay, sweetie,” you tell him firmly. “I love all of my sons, even ones I haven’t met before. Ask your brothers, they’ll tell you.”
“’m here because I heard you were nice,” he says in a tiny voice.
You open your arms, offering a hug but waiting to let him decide whether he wants one. This child must have seen hugs before, because he flings himself into your arms and starts crying. That’s good. Some of your sons are traumatised from what they’ve seen, knowing more slaps than kisses.
Eventually, the sobs dry up, your other kids patiently waiting for your attention again. “Why do we look like this?” he asks, curious.
“Because this is what the first of you looked like - Wilson, where are you?”
A hand raises from the crowd and waves energetically.
“Wilson took on my son’s form to play Child or Double. Calling from downstairs when my son was in bed, getting tucked in when the child I bore was playing out in the garden. Once I figured it out, I hugged him and told him that as far as I was concerned, I now had twins. It took him some time before he believed me.”
Wilson shrugs unrepentantly.
“When my son died, Wilson stayed. It helped, having one of my sons with me while I grieved. Then another of you began to turn up, and I had twins again. Then more. Until now, when I have more of you than will technically fit in my kitchen.” You give your sons a look of motherly disapproval, but they only giggle. They know you don’t mind.
“It’s not like you need to feed us!” calls out one of your bolder sons. Eric, probably. Your newest, unnamed child looks up hesitantly, then steps out of your arms to join his brothers. Lucas might be a nice name, you think idly. You don’t have a Lucas yet.
“That does help,” you admit. You put steel into your next words. “However, there are Rules in this house, and one of them is no messing around at bedtime. I know that bedtime is a traditional time for the Child or Double game, but four of you is pushing it.”
You’d say more, but there’s a knock at your back door. You turn to answer it, knowing that your sons will have evaporated before your fingers grasp the handle, and brace against the cold night air as you pull the door open.
Two identical little girls stand there. One has a bruise on her cheek, and has clearly been crying recently. The other - the other is a Doubler, just like your sons. After this long, you can tell the difference.
“Please,” the Doubler says, and her voice trembles on the word. “Please. She needs somewhere to stay.”
Part of you is shocked, already looking ahead to the potential legal issues. The rest of you is all mother, and you whisk her into the nice warm kitchen and get her a glass of water.
Your son’s bed will be occupied by someone else tonight. You think he’d have been okay with that.
