Blog: Day Books Planted, Feet First
Miles of walking (every day) on the cobblestones of Andalucía and the hard ceramic tile floors of our rented apartments here take a toll on feet and ankles. Both my husband and I feel it. We’re both prone to ankle injury to start with: because of a lack of flexibility (him) and because of stability problems (me). My tree will always be wavery and I get a charge out of trying it on the vertiginous patterns of the floor tiles — makes me feel in touch with my yowie-zowie inner Frank Zappa.
My husband’s conversion to the benefits of flexibility training is relatively recent and had nothing to do with my (rather) habitual nagging about how his life would be better, easier, more comfortable if he would simply put himself in my hands for 10 minutes a day. He developed painful arthitis symptoms in one ankle and his ortho doc suggested physical therapy, even told him he had seen dramatic results in his practice. And my husband aimed his awe-inspiring powers of concentration on his ankles: stretching and strengthening. Even taking me up on my long standing offer of a yoga strap.
In the past there was some good humored (or at least that’s the way I chose to see it) husband complaining about packing some foam yoga blocks and my travel mat when we took off for one of our long two-times-a-year trips. Now we include a foam half rollar for him. Well, one assumes if we keep working on our range of motion and stability we’ll be able to make these trips for many years to come. If only it were as easy to leap into fluency in Spanish. That is a much slower and more laborious road. The brain is a harder nut to crack. That’s an equilibrium that eludes understanding.