Jumping Jacques
France gets the exercise bug
Twenty-five years ago, when we began visiting Paris, Theresa and I joked about the French version of physical fitness. At the gym, it involved a casual promenade on the treadmill for, perhaps, two minutes before sashaying off to re-apply another round of skin-care products. There was an ashtray on the stair climber.
Oh sure, the French – especially women – are skinny. But that’s widely attributed to their diet, not hours spent in the gym.
Exercise was a whole other matter. Team sports were for the kids. Bike lanes were unheard of. And forget about building muscle, not when the average homme is trying to squeeze into a Saint Laurent shirt tailored for a 12-year-old’s torso. Back then, the only French athlete I’d ever heard of was skier Jean-Claude Killy, who basically excelled at letting gravity do its work.
I’m not sure what got into them, but somewhere in the past five years, the French got the exercise bug.
Last week in Mont Saint-Michel, we bumped into a triathlon that attracted more than 2,000 participants who sprinted up the more than 300 steps to the top of the famed island abbey (after a 4-kilometer swim and a 180-kilometer bike ride).
On Sunday, the Tout Rennes Court (All Rennes Runs) marathon drew more than 20,000 participants – equal to nearly 10 percent of the region’s adult population. Next weekend, another race will attract about 10,000 marathoners who will pace themselves along the cobblestones that run past 500-year-old half-timbered houses.
And it’s not just running. In the past year Rennes has hosted::
An Olympic-style 3-on-3 hoops tournament that was part of a wildly popular nationwide series.
A weekend skateboarding event that turned the grand Charles de Gaulle plaza into a massive obstacle course.
A cycling criterium that sped through downtown streets.
Canoe races on the Vilaine River.
You might shrug at this in America, where physical fitness is taught in school (at least, until recently) and gym memberships are cheap and plentiful. The French, meanwhile, are notorious for hours of aimless relaxation over a tiny cup of coffee; the act of idly wandering around town is so widespread, they even have a word for it: flâner.
All of this new activity is something we marvel at on a daily basis. Cyclists from four to eighty-four cruising along bike lanes… a yoga studio in a boat docked along the canal… an artificial whitewater kayaking river just outside of town. And, of course, our favorite spectator spot, an urban jungle gym that is packed with buff exercise maniacs who proudly shoot TikTok videos of their ab-exposed selves, posing and performing bizarre feats of strength. Theresa, who I’ve noticed enjoys critiquing their form, fondly calls it “The Park for Boys with No Shirts.”
Much of the newfound passion for exercise, it seems, is the result of a nationwide fitness plan launched by the French government in 2019. The program (pdf) promotes nutrition education, commuter bicycling, discounted gym memberships and the creation of hundreds of 100-square-meter outdoor exercise platforms outfitted for 7-minute circuit training routines.
To be honest, most of the time these exercise squares are empty. And, as in most of Europe, French children have an “alarming” level of sedentary behavior, according to the Journal of Physical Activity and Health.
But, at least anecdotally, the French appear far more comfortable sweating in public these days – almost to the point of showing off. Organized runs by impressively buff platoons of sapeurs-pompiers (French firefighters) for example, draw approving crowds and even applause. It’s a far cry from the days when, on visits to Paris, Theresa and I would set off for an early-morning jog, only to be met with sneers from the locals.
Still, when I see spandex-clad runners bypassing the cafe at cocktail hour, it shakes my faith in the essence of the French way of life – the very thing that drew me here in the first place. You know, laziness.
When we moved on to Carnac, I was surprised to see what looked like an outdoor ping pong table in the park across the street from our hotel. And, indeed, the next day a father and his young daughter showed up and played ping pong for 30-40 minutes. I'd never seen an outdoor ping pong table before.it was nice.
Manger bouger !