Blackberries

Istarted running to impress my neurologist. I downloaded the little app, put on some homely trainers, and chucked myself out of the door. And adorably, I continued to do so every other day, even after I’d told my neurologist, twice, even after I’d completed the app — instead, I listened to podcasts about, for example, ‘‘What this smalltown US police department did wrong’’ and ‘‘Hey, did you know some people can smell dementia?’’.

I have never been a PE type. I detest yoga, I find it very horrible. I lack the competitiveness necessary to play a team sport and the idea of going to ‘‘the gym’’, a place so aesthetically moribund, so heavy with the weight of other peoples’ vanity and regrets, repels me. Yet earlier this year, when the neurologist suggested I make some ‘‘lifestyle changes’’ I decided to give running a go — the least bad option from a badly stained menu.

But — it wasn’t as simple as that. It was recently reported that almost half of British women have done ‘‘no vigorous exercise’’ in the past year. The headline bothered me. It was the same feeling of discomfort I remembered when, in those twilight months of early parenthood, I read in the papers about a study on breastfeeding that suggested the longer a baby is breastfed, the more successful and intelligent they become. Though the study was important, the way it was reported left many of my motherly peers, each one trying desperately to keep their newborn babies alive through the spring, feeling shamed and guilty.

This exercise study landed in a similar way, inspiring a familiar guilt. Everyone knows the reasons why women exercise — health, fitness, lose a stone before

Alison’s wedding. But the reasons why women don’t exercise are rarely discussed. To do so requires a sullen breaking down of factors, the telling of which becomes quieter and sadder as the list goes on. Why do half of women do no exercise? Because it takes time, time alone, time which, if they have children, many must pay for. Out of office hours, women carry out an overall average of 60% more ‘‘unpaid work’’ than men, such as caring for children or elderly parents, and cleaning the house, and preparing a meal for five people that takes less than 30 minutes. Their time is not their own — the clock has melted.

And of those who are able to carve out the recommended 150 minutes a week from their schedules, some continue to battle with poor body image , which means they feel anxious and vulnerable about presenting their Lycraed body to the world. Others feel ‘‘unsafe exercising outdoors’’ — Runners World found 60% of women said they had been harassed when running. It seems the original headline was the wrong way round: isn’t it more notable that half the women had exercised in the past year?

After seven months of running regularly, I still don’t love it. People tell me about the rush, the calmness, the way it makes them feel elated, high. For me, it’s still largely a slog. But apart from the impact it’s had on my migraines, the main benefit of regular exercise has been the freedom I feel. Every time I tighten my trainers and leave my house, I marvel at the fact that I have created this time alone, that this sliver of world — of path, of stream, of park and woods — is mine and for now, for me. The dream is to run fast enough that you run away from all that — your work, your responsibilities, your anxieties, your body, the news and its headlines, yourself. For half an hour at least, or until the next study drops. Whichever comes first. — Guardian News and

Media

We drive to the golf course dressed in thick jeans, parkas gardening gloves.

Berries are big after regular rain. We lean, reach for the fattest fruit teetering on the creek’s edge.

As you touch one a riper berry falls lost in tangled vines. The picking’s good pottles fill.

Even with gloves on spines penetrate fingers, rake thighs.

I don’t think of Ukraine or deaths closer at hand I pick, plan blackberry pies.

Cynthia Greensill is a retired teacher and member of the Tight Lines poetry group.

Contributions to this weekly column are invited from writers south of the Waitaki River, should be previously unpublished, should not exceed 35 lines and should be sent as an email attachment. And please include a short autobiographical note. There will be no correspondence over selections. Post to The Weekend Mix, Otago Daily Times, PO Box 517 Dunedin, or email to tom.mckinlay@odt.co.nz. While we love receiving your poems, due to the high volume we cannot reply to everyone, and notifications of acceptance make take up to six weeks.