Feed aggregator
Consumer products' air quality impact 'underestimated'
Does cycling really damage men's sexual organs? | Jessica Brown
New research refutes the theory that pressure from saddles can cause erectile dysfunction, and says cycling could actually improve performance in older men
Few doubt that cycling helps you get healthy. One study last year found cyclists are less likely to develop heart disease or cancer, and a 2011 review showed it improves fitness and leads to longer lives. But there’s an area of men’s health that has been the subject of a persistent question: does time spent in the saddle lead to problems in the sack?
In recent years, scientists have linked cycling with several male health problems, including erectile dysfunction, which they speculate is caused by the saddle decreasing blood flow to the penis. In one study, Norwegian researchers gathered data from 160 men after they took part in a long-distance bike tour. They found that one in five suffered with numbness to the penis that lasted up to a week after the tour, and 13% developed erectile dysfunction that lasted more than a week in most cases.
Dutch cow poo overload causes an environmental stink
Dairy farms in the Netherlands are producing so much dung they can’t get rid of it safely. Now the WWF is calling for a 40% cut in herd numbers to protect the environment
There is a dirty stench emanating from the Dutch dairy sector. The industry is, by most measures, hugely successful: despite the small size of the country, it is the fifth largest exporter of dairy and has a much-touted reputation as the tiny country that feeds the world.
But there’s a catch: the nation’s 1.8 million cows are producing so much manure that there isn’t enough space to get rid of it safely.
Continue reading...Country diary: the biggest hare I’ve ever seen sat boldly on its arse
Bleaklow, Derbyshire: They hunker down, escaping the wind and wary of predators, waiting for the hour after dark to feed
Brilliant sunshine and a covering of snow had transformed Bleaklow into the Arctic, the sky azure overhead with hints of turquoise on the horizon, bruising to mauve as the day wore on. Approaching Barrow Stones, the moors a glittering sweep of blue-white, nothing stirred but the bitter wind that curled around my neck. The wind had sculpted extravagant shapes from the snow: translucent fins of névé or else, where it eddied, sinuous arcs and twists. Soft spindrift filled the groughs between peat hags fringed with icicles. The same wind, I reflected, has done much the same to Barrow Stones, albeit over millennia rather than days, scouring a crowd of abstract heads nodding in the sun.
The snow had recorded more than the wind’s passage. From time to time we came across a busy intersection of animal tracks, a meandering series of triangles made by grouse, the delicate feet of mice and voles, like sutures, stitching the lightest trace of time through the snow’s surface. There were the unmistakable prints of mountain hares, also known more prettily as blue hares, forepaws offset and hitting the ground behind the back legs. Different animals had shared the same path for a while before looping off individually in a new direction. Then the prints would disappear altogether until we encountered a new group. Mountain hares don’t have extensive ranges.
Continue reading...