Sports & Sweat

Sports are questions with rules. These questions have no rules.

201. If I run in place, how far did I go?

Zero kilometres physically, many kilometres emotionally. Your floor is very impressed. Running in place is the treadmill's cheaper cousin and the only race you can win in your pajamas. Your fitness watch will count steps, get confused about why the GPS hasn't moved and assume you're a very energetic houseplant. Downstairs neighbours will assume you're moving furniture at 6 a.m. Some people have run full marathons in place, which takes about four hours and gives you an excellent view of the same wall. The wall cheers silently.

202. Is a nap after a workout part of the workout?

It's the cooldown, and it's the most important part. Professional athletes call it "recovery," which sounds better than "lying face-down on the couch in my sneakers." The nap lets your muscles repair, your heart rate settle and your brain forget how hard the burpees were, so you'll go back next week. Some people do a 10-minute workout and a two-hour nap, which works out to a 12-to-1 rest ratio. Experts disagree on whether that's ideal. The experts were asleep when we called.

203. Does walking to the fridge count as cardio?

Only if the fridge is upstairs. Then it's a hike. If it's in the basement, it's spelunking. If you take the stairs two at a time, it's a sprint, and if you carry a full tray of snacks back up without spilling, that's weightlifting with a balance component. The average person walks to the fridge 22 times a day and opens it with no plan, stares inside like it's a television, then closes it again. That's 22 sets of reps for your arms. Put it on your fitness app. Call it "refrigeration training."

204. Why do golfers yell "fore" instead of "duck"?

Because "duck" confuses the actual ducks on the course. They've filed complaints. Imagine you're a duck by the pond on the 9th hole, minding your business, and suddenly a man in plaid pants screams your name. Very upsetting. Golfers switched to "fore" (probably from "before," as in "look out before you get hit"), and the ducks calmed down. Geese, meanwhile, don't care what you yell. Brent once stood in the middle of a fairway while 12 golfers yelled "fore" at him. He did not move. A golf cart had to go around him.

205. If I pull a muscle, which way should I push it back?

Neither. Rest it, ice it and give it a stern talking-to. Pushing muscles around is how you end up in question 206 of a different book. Pulled muscles are like grumpy cats: the more you poke them, the angrier they get. Wrap a bag of frozen peas around it, prop it up on a pillow and let it sulk. Frozen peas are the official mascot of injuries, and they're never eaten afterward. They become the "injury peas" and live in the freezer forever, refrozen 40 times, until someone accidentally cooks them for dinner.

206. Is chess a sport if I sweat during it?

If you sweat, it counts. Bring a towel and a very serious face. Professional chess players can burn a surprising amount of energy during long tournaments from stress alone, sitting perfectly still while their brains do backflips. A chess match is a war fought by tiny wooden people, and the horses can only move in L-shapes, which is ridiculous when you think about it. The queen does all the work and the king just shuffles one square at a time like he's wearing slippers. If chess had a halftime show, it would be two people silently thinking. Riveting.

207. Why is a marathon 42.195 km instead of a nice round

number?

Blame the 1908 Olympics in London, where the course was stretched so the finish line sat right in front of the royal box. Runners have been bitter about the extra 195 metres ever since. Imagine running 42 kilometres, then being told "just a bit more, the King would like a better view." Those final 195 metres are now the most emotional stretch in any marathon, where runners cry, crawl or make deals with higher powers. The king has long since passed away. The 195 metres remain. They have outlived the monarchy's view and they will outlive us all.

208. Do fish count laps?

Fish swim in circles their whole lives and never once brag about it. Respect the fish. A goldfish in a bowl swims the equivalent of several marathons a year and has never posted a single photo of its running shoes. Salmon swim upstream for hundreds of kilometres, jumping waterfalls like Olympic hurdlers, and when they get to the top they don't even get a medal. Sharks never stop swimming, even while resting, which makes them the most committed athletes on Earth. Next time you finish a 5K, think of the fish. Then stop talking about your 5K.

209. If I lift weights with my eyes closed, do they feel lighter?

No, but you can't see how much the person next to you is lifting, which helps. The gym is full of people pretending not to compare themselves to each other, all while comparing themselves to each other. Closing your eyes removes the guy grunting beside you, the mirror and the motivational poster of a mountain. Don't keep them closed too long, though. Weights are best lifted with full knowledge of where your feet are. A man in Fort McMurray tried it once and accidentally bench-pressed a gym bag. He set a personal record.

210. Can I play tennis by myself?

Yes. It's called hitting a ball against a wall, and the wall has never lost a match. Walls are the greatest tennis players in history: tireless, consistent and completely unbothered by your trash talk. They return every shot, never argue line calls and never ask for a water break. Tennis legends have trained against walls for years, and the walls received no credit. The only way to beat a wall is to hit the ball over it, which is technically a forfeit, and you'll have to go knock on a stranger's door to get it back.

211. Why is it called a home run if you end up where you

started?

It's the only race where the goal is to go home. Deeply relatable. Baseball players run 109 metres around the bases, touch all four corners like they're checking the doors are locked and finish exactly where they started. The crowd goes wild. If you did this in real life, leaving your house, walking around the block and coming back, nobody would cheer. They'd ask if you forgot your keys. Baseball is the only sport where the champion's reward is going home, which is also what every introvert at a party wants. Baseball understands us.

212. If I'm sitting on the bench, am I still on the team?

Yes. You're the reserve force, the last line of defence for the snacks and the water cooler. Bench players perform vital tasks: warming the bench for whoever comes off next, high-fiving people with incredible enthusiasm and cheering at a volume that can be heard in the next province. You're also the official guardian of the team towel. Some of the greatest moments in sports history came from bench players who were suddenly called in, panicked and won. Stay ready. Stretch occasionally. Never let anyone see you eating the orange slices meant for halftime.

213. Is bowling just organized knocking things over?

Yes, with rental shoes. Toddlers invented the concept; adults added scoring. Bowling is the only sport where you can wear shoes thousands of strangers have worn before you, eat nachos between turns and get a strike while holding a soft drink in the other hand. The pins stand there, lined up like little white soldiers, waiting to be knocked over and then lifted back up by a mysterious machine for more punishment. Five-pin bowling is a Canadian invention, perfect for people who find ten pins too emotionally overwhelming.

214. Can a hockey puck feel pain?

If it could, it would have quit by now. Pucks are the toughest athletes on the ice. They're frozen before the game, slapped at over 150 km/h, slammed into boards, stopped by goalies and occasionally fired into the crowd, where someone's dad catches it in his popcorn. They never complain, never ask for a trade and never get a contract. Pucks play a whole game, then disappear into a bucket without a single interview. Some pucks are retired to glass cases with signatures on them. Those pucks finally get their rest.

215. How many push-ups can I do if I only do the "down"

part?

Infinite. It's called lying down, and everyone's a champion. Sports scientists classify this as a "negative push-up," which sounds technical but is mostly just flopping. Your arms lower you slowly to the floor, where you remain, staring at the carpet and wondering what life is about. Repeat as many times as you like. Do the "up" part only when the pizza arrives. Some fitness trainers have begun offering "down-only bootcamps," which are incredibly popular and have a 100% completion rate. Nobody has ever quit.

216. Should I stretch before stretching?

That's a warm-up for the warm-up. At some point you just have to start. If you stretch before stretching, you'll need to stretch before that, and soon you're stuck in an infinite loop of yawning and reaching for your toes. Some people warm up by thinking about stretching for 10 minutes while scrolling their phone. That counts as a mental stretch. The cat has perfected this: it stretches after every nap, before every nap and occasionally in the middle of a nap. Copy the cat. The cat is extremely flexible and has never pulled a muscle.

217. Is it a team sport if nobody passes me the ball?

It's a team sport for them. For you, it's a running sport. You're getting all the exercise and none of the glory, which is a very noble path. Run up the field, wave your arms, yell "open!" with your whole heart and watch the ball go somewhere else entirely. Statistically, every team has one player who never gets the ball, and they're often the fittest person on the team. When the ball finally does come to you, everyone will gasp, time will slow and you will either score the greatest goal of the season or trip over your own feet. Either way, it will be legendary.

218. If I win a participation trophy, did I participate or win?

Both. You won at participating. Display it next to your other great achievement: waking up. Participation trophies come in gold-coloured plastic, which is made from the same material as fast-food toys and dreams. They say things like "Great Effort" and "Thanks for Coming." You may have lost every game 0-14, but you showed up, wore the uniform and only cried once. Adults secretly want participation trophies too. Imagine getting one for doing your taxes, attending a dentist appointment or listening to an entire voicemail. That would be a just society.

219. Why do referees wear stripes?

So they're easy to spot when everyone wants to yell at them. It's a target, not a fashion choice. The stripes also help referees blend in with zebras, in case they ever need to escape a stadium full of upset fans by fleeing across the African savanna. Referees are the only people who show up to a game knowing half the crowd will hate them no matter what they do. Their whistles are their only weapon. Their stripes are their armour. Their wives, husbands and kids are their only fans, and even they boo sometimes.

220. Can I sprint a marathon?

For about 200 metres. Then it becomes a walk-athon. Then a limp-athon. Then a sit-on-the-curb-athon, then a call-a-taxi-athon. Experienced marathoners pace themselves carefully, moving at a steady speed that lets them finish. Beginners start like a cheetah and end like a turtle on its back. Fun fact: elite runners hold a pace for over two hours that most of us couldn't hold for one block. They are a different species. Watching them is like watching a deer sprint past your car on the highway. Respect them, and take the bus.

221. Is the stadium wave a sport?

It's the only sport where thousands of strangers cooperate perfectly for six seconds. Then they go back to arguing about parking. The wave starts with one brave section standing up for no reason. The next section, unsure, joins in. Within moments, an entire stadium is rising and falling like a human ocean. Then it reaches the section with the season ticket holders, who refuse to stand because they're "here to watch the game," and the wave dies. Scientists have studied the wave and found it travels at about 20 seats per second. Grumpy sections stop it in milliseconds.

222. Do skiers ever just want to go up?

Every skier dreams of going up without the lift. It's called hiking, and they hate it. Skiers spend an hour waiting in line, 10 minutes riding a chairlift with their legs dangling over a terrifying drop next to a stranger, and four minutes skiing down. That's the deal. Some daring skiers climb up with special gear called "skins," which sounds horrifying but is just fabric on the bottom of the skis. They're called backcountry skiers and they're extremely proud of themselves. They'll tell you about it. Mostly at the lodge. With hot chocolate.

223. If I do yoga in a hammock, is it advanced yoga or a nap?

It's a nap with ambitions. There is a real practice called aerial yoga, where people hang from fabric slings and do poses upside down. It looks incredibly peaceful and is actually very hard. Hammock yoga at home, however, usually involves getting in, saying "namaste," and immediately falling asleep. The hammock then gently rocks you like a baby. Some people claim to reach enlightenment this way. Others claim to reach the bottom of a bag of chips. Both count. Downward dog is not possible in a hammock. Downward nap is.

224. Why do runners wear tiny shorts?

Runners believe less fabric means more speed. It's not proven, but the confidence is real. The shorts get shorter every year, and some experts predict that by 2050 they will become a single strategically placed sticker. Runners also wear socks that cost more than your dinner, shoes with bouncy foam soles and sunglasses that make them look like they're in a music video. All of this adds up to about 0.3 seconds of speed and 400% more self-esteem. Respect the tiny shorts. They're doing their best.

225. Can I get benched from a game I'm watching on TV?

Yes, by your family, if you yell at the TV too much. You'll be traded to the kitchen. The players can't hear you, but your family can, and they're tired of you calling for penalties from the couch like you're the referee. Repeat offenders get sent to the basement to watch on a tiny laptop. Coaches of couch potatoes, usually moms, give clear rules: no standing on the coffee table, no throwing remotes and no crying during commercials. Follow them, and you'll be back on the couch by the third period.

226. Is a gym membership a donation?

For many members, yes. Gyms are lovingly funded by people who signed up in January. These generous donors attend twice, buy a water bottle and are never seen again, but they keep paying every month like a quiet act of charity. Their money pays for the treadmills, the towels and the guy at the front desk who says "welcome back" even if he's never seen you. In return, donors receive a small key-tag and a strong sense of guilt every time they drive past the building. It's a beautiful relationship. Nobody talks about it.

227. How fast can a sloth run a 100-metre dash?

About 25 minutes, with a nap at the halfway mark. Sloths move around 0.3 km/h on the ground and spend most of their lives hanging in trees, sleeping and digesting leaves, which takes weeks. Every sloth race begins with an announcer saying "go," followed by 12 minutes of nothing happening. The crowd leaves. The officials leave. A sloth crosses the finish line under the moonlight, alone, eats a leaf and goes back to sleep. It has never broken a record, but it has never been stressed either. In many ways, the sloth is the true winner.

228. Why does a basketball bounce but a bowling ball

doesn't?

The basketball is full of air and optimism. The bowling ball is full of determination and refuses to be lifted by anything. A basketball hits the floor and springs back up like it just heard good news. A bowling ball hits the floor and makes a deep thud, cracks a tile and stays there like it's been personally offended. Don't try to dribble a bowling ball. People have, and they now have very flat feet. Also, don't try to bowl with a basketball. It'll bounce off the pins and come back to you like a puppy.

229. If I throw a boomerang and it doesn't come back, did I

win?

You lost a boomerang and gained a stick somewhere. Sticks are very sustainable. A boomerang that doesn't come back is just a confused stick on a journey of self-discovery. It's out there now, possibly in a tree, possibly in a neighbour's pool, wondering why it left. Throwing a boomerang properly takes practice: the right angle, the right spin and the right amount of wind. Most first-timers throw it like a frisbee and then spend an hour searching a field. If it does come back, duck. Many people have been defeated by their own boomerang, which is the most poetic injury in sports.

230. Is golf just a long walk with expensive interruptions?

That's exactly what golf is. The interruptions cost $80 a round, plus every ball you donate to the pond. Golf courses are beautiful parks where people walk 8 kilometres while hitting a tiny ball, chasing it, losing it, swearing, finding a different ball and pretending it's theirs. The pond at every course contains an estimated 3 million golf balls, a family of turtles and at least one club thrown in anger. Divers are paid to fish them out and sell them back to the same golfers. It's the most perfect business model ever created.

231. Can I swim right after eating, or will I sink?

You won't sink; you'll just float like a happy, full log. The old "wait 30 minutes" rule is mostly a myth. Generations of kids have sat on the edge of the lake staring at their watches, counting down the minutes after a hot dog like it was a rocket launch. Parents enforced the rule mostly so they could finish their own lunch in peace. A large meal might make you feel sluggish, so maybe don't do Olympic laps after Thanksgiving dinner, but you won't drop to the bottom like a stone. The real danger is the giant inflatable flamingo. Respect the flamingo.

232. Do horses know they're in a race?

They know. The other horses told them, and horses are very competitive about it. Racehorses spend months training, eating carrots with intent and doing intense stretches. At the starting gate, they trash-talk in quiet snorts. Horses that win get flowers, fame and the best stall in the barn. Horses that lose get a pat on the nose and a thoughtful look in the mirror. Retired racehorses often become lovely, gentle riding horses, but they still pick up the pace whenever another horse tries to pass them on a trail. Old habits. Old rivalries.

233. Is arm-wrestling just holding hands aggressively?

Yes. It's the most intense handshake in history. Two people grip hands, stare into each other's eyes, grit their teeth and try to bend the other person's arm sideways, all over a table at a family barbecue. It's like a romantic moment that went horribly wrong. Professional arm-wrestlers have forearms like hams and stares like hawks. Amateurs usually knock over the potato salad. If you lose, shake your hand out and say "I let you win." Everyone knows you didn't, but they'll respect the attempt.

234. Why is it called a personal best if nobody else cares?

That's exactly why it's personal. Your best, your business, your victory dance. Nobody needs to know that your personal best is walking 3 kilometres without stopping for a pastry, but you know, and it was beautiful. Personal bests are the only trophies that fit in your heart instead of a glass case. Tell your mom; she'll be impressed. Tell your friends; they'll nod politely. Tell your fitness app; it'll give you a little virtual medal and a burst of confetti, which is the closest thing to a parade most adults ever get.

235. Can I train for a nap?

Yes. Start with 10-minute naps and build up to a full Sunday afternoon. Professionals can nap through an alarm. Train like an athlete: practise in different conditions, such as on a bus, at a family event or in a very bright room. Work on your form: find the perfect pillow-to-blanket ratio and master the "one-leg-out" technique (see question 925). Elite nappers can fall asleep in under 30 seconds, anywhere, sitting up, mid-sentence. They're the Olympians of rest. If napping were an official sport, cats would win every medal, and Canada would come a respectable fourth.

236. Who would win a race: a turtle, or a rabbit who's had a coffee?

The rabbit, easily. The old fable only worked because nobody gave the rabbit coffee. A caffeinated rabbit would finish the race in four seconds, keep running, lap the turtle 30 times and then vibrate on the finish line for an hour, unable to sleep. The turtle, meanwhile, would plod along calmly, reach the end and win the moral victory, which is what turtles care about. The moral of the new fable: slow and steady wins the race, unless the rabbit has a large double-double. Then nobody wins, especially the rabbit's heart.

237. Is fishing a sport if the fish wins?

It's a sport for the fish. You're the opponent who brought sandwiches. The fish has spent its whole life training for this: dodging hooks, nibbling bait and leaving with the worm. Every time you reel in an empty line, the fish scores a point. Expert fish can steal bait so gently you'll never even feel it. Fishing is mostly sitting in a boat at 5 a.m., drinking coffee from a thermos and telling stories about "the one that got away," which grows 10 centimetres every time the story is told. By retirement, it's a whale.

238. If I touch my toes, will my toes touch back?

They'll wiggle in appreciation. Many people haven't seen their toes up close in years. Toes are the forgotten citizens of the body, hidden in socks and shoes all day like miners. When you reach down and touch them, they feel acknowledged. The big toe stands proud. The little toe shyly curls under, embarrassed by its tiny nail. Touching your toes is a classic test of flexibility; if you can't reach, just touch your knees and say "close enough." Your toes will still appreciate the effort. They've been waiting a long time for this reunion.

239. Is there a black belt in napping?

After 10 years of training you earn the Fuzzy Blanket Belt, the highest honour in the discipline. Earlier ranks include the White Pillow Belt (beginner, needs silence), the Yellow Couch Belt (can nap with a TV on), the Green Hammock Belt (can nap outdoors) and the Brown Airplane Belt (can nap upright between two strangers). The legendary Fuzzy Blanket master can fall asleep during their own birthday party, wake up exactly when the cake arrives and look completely rested. Only three people in history have achieved it. One of them is a grandmother in Saskatoon.

240. Why does my team always lose when I watch?

Superstition says you're the reason. The only known cure is watching from the kitchen through a doorway. Sports fans have a lot of rituals: wearing the same unwashed jersey for an entire season, sitting in the exact same couch cushion, eating the same snack in the same order and refusing to say the word "shutout" out loud. Hockey fans in Edmonton have tried everything, including watching with their eyes closed and listening on the radio instead. Statistically, your team's performance has nothing to do with you. Emotionally, it has everything to do with you.

241. Can a cheerleader cheer for themselves?

Yes. It's called confidence. "Give me an M! Give me an E!" Self-cheering is a powerful tool, used by people walking into job interviews, people opening tax forms and people trying to parallel park. Some cheerleaders do it with pompoms. Most adults do it quietly in the car, saying "you've got this" to the rear-view mirror. The world would be better if everyone had a personal cheerleader, ideally one with pompoms, following them around shouting "YOU SENT THAT EMAIL! GO, TEAM YOU!" Until then, you'll have to do it yourself.

242. Is a curling stone just a fancy kettle?

It's a granite kettle trained to slide. The sweepers are its personal assistants. Curling stones weigh about 20 kilograms and are made from rare granite, often from a tiny Scottish island. Each stone is pushed gently down the ice while two people sweep frantically in front of it, like butlers clearing a path for royalty, and a third person yells "HARD!" at the top of their lungs. Curling is beloved in Canada because it combines strategy, ice and a reason to go to the bar afterward. The stone itself has never once made a cup of tea.

243. If I do a cartwheel, am I a wheel for that second?

Briefly, yes. For one glorious second, you are a vehicle. Your hands and feet become spokes, your body becomes the axle and the lawn becomes your road. If you could do cartwheels continuously, you'd be legally required to have a licence, insurance and turn signals. Professional gymnasts are basically cars. Toddlers attempting their first cartwheel are more like shopping carts with one bad wheel. Adults attempting their first cartwheel in 30 years are more like a lawn chair falling down a staircase. Try it on soft grass. Not near the barbecue.

244. Why do athletes pour water on their heads?

Drinking it is too slow when you're overheating. Also it looks dramatic, which is half of sports. Pouring water on your head in slow motion is the athletic equivalent of a movie hero walking away from an explosion. Marathon runners grab cups at water stations and half drink, half throw them on their faces, missing both. Football teams dump giant coolers of sports drink on their coach after a win, which is a strange way of saying thank you. If you do this at the office after finishing a report, people will be concerned.

245. Is it cheating if I take a gondola up the mountain?

It's not cheating, it's strategy. The view is the same and your legs are grateful. Some hikers insist on walking all the way up, sweating for four hours, and then judge gondola riders who arrive at the top with a coffee and fresh hair. Ignore them. The mountain doesn't care how you got there. The gondola in Banff takes about eight minutes and offers excellent views of people hiking, which is the most relaxing way to experience hiking. At the top, there's usually a restaurant. The hikers will be eating trail mix. You'll be eating nachos.

246. Can I run away from my problems if I'm fast enough?

Your problems also do cardio. They'll be waiting at the finish line with a water bottle. Problems are remarkably fit. They've followed people across countries, into new jobs and through entire vacations. One woman in Calgary ran a full marathon to escape a tax form. She crossed the finish line and her accountant handed it to her. Running is, however, excellent for clearing your head. You won't escape your problems, but you'll be in better shape when you face them, and that has to count for something.

247. Why do coaches yell when everyone can already hear

them?

Coaching is 20% strategy and 80% volume. The whistle is for when the yelling runs out. Coaches yell because they believe information travels faster at higher decibels, the same way some people talk louder to tourists. The most effective coaching phrases include "HUSTLE," "LET'S GO" and "WHAT WAS THAT," none of which contain any actual instructions. Coaches also have special powers: they can see a mistake from across a field, recall a play from 1997 and lose their voice by the second quarter. By the playoffs, they're communicating entirely through clipboards.

248. If I skip leg day, will my legs file a complaint?

They'll file it by refusing to climb stairs. Respect leg day or take the elevator forever. People who skip leg day develop the famous "chicken legs" look: a huge, powerful upper body balanced on two little toothpicks, like a refrigerator on chopsticks. Legs are the foundation of everything. They carry you to work, to the fridge and away from bees. Do squats, lunges and calf raises. Your legs will be sore for three days and you'll walk like a newborn giraffe, but at least you'll have stood up for them.

249. Does a trampoline count as flying?

For half a second at a time, yes. You're a bird with a very bouncy floor. At the top of each jump, there's a tiny moment where you're weightless, hair floating, stomach in your throat, completely free. Then gravity remembers you. Trampolines turn every child into an Olympic athlete and every adult into a person who says "I'm just going to sit down for a minute." Never let more than one person jump at a time, unless you enjoy unplanned launches into the vegetable garden. Birds watching from the trees are not impressed. They do this for free.

250. If I come in last, am I the winner of the losers?

You're first among the brave. Also, the last runner always gets the loudest cheer, which is its own kind of gold medal. The crowd stays, the volunteers clap and someone hands you a banana with real emotion. In every race, the last finisher is often the one who had to overcome the most, like a sore knee, a bad night's sleep or a very distracting dog along the course. Finishing last is still finishing, which is more than everyone who stayed home in bed. Wear your last-place ribbon proudly. Hang it beside your participation trophy (see question 218).