Day 77- Be Here Now

The Huffington Post posted this story today about distracted walking and the dangers in which such ridiculousness results. 

People walk into fountains, fall onto train tracks (!), walk into traffic--not to mention blunder into other human beings. I get mightily annoyed when some nitwit is blabbing or texting and crashes into me, or otherwise blocks my path with their thoughtless behavior. 

Because that's what it is. 

We humans have many lovable qualities, and others that are perpetually dysfunctional. One of our little sillies is that it's challenging for many of us to live in the present. We're always fretting about the future or dwelling on mistakes and slights of the past, but it's a real effort to be mindful and present. 


Add in our beloved gadgets, and it's practically hopeless. 


When I see someone walking and texting or talking on their phone, I feel sorry for them. Yeah, yeah, yeah, they're getting exercise and fresh air, but they are also missing out on the mind-clearing/thought-provoking benefits of just walking. This "multi-tasking" isn't really making them more efficient; rather, it's making them deficient. 


Being mindful and present is something we can constantly strive toward. Adding a glowing rectangle in front of your face is detrimental to mindfulness. I despise television, but put me in a hotel room with cable, and I'm worthless as tits on a boar. I can't help being sucked into the glowing rectangles and squares, so I try and avoid them as much as possible. 


Had I had one shining in my face on my walk this lovely, sweet-smelling morning, I would not have seen the pileated woodpecker swoop in front of me and laugh. Since I was present, I was not gazing at my iPhone, and so did not take a picture. But, he looked like this:

I'm pretty sure he was laughing with me, not at me.

I didn't need a photo or video because I saw him dance and flap, and that was better for me. I can't tell you how many school functions I've been at where everyone's gazing into their viewfinders and not actually watching their kids perform. I'd rather be there while it's happening. 

So, walk and text? Why? Walk and talk? Save it if you've got real, live company, but otherwise, it's OKAY to be alone with your thoughts, or even to be empty-headed and enjoy the crazed cackle of red-headed winged wonders. 

Ain't nothing wrong with that. 

XO, 
Dani
 











 

Day 76--Announcing the WalkTheYear App! So cool!

Okay. 

So, I have this App, but it's not sold on iTunes. 

It's free! 

But you don't use it on your iPhone or Android. 

But it IS an App. 

Well, it's an Application. 

That you Apply to your life. 

But it IS free. 

However, unlike most apps that you tap "purchase" and then it's in your hands and you get to landscape with zombie-fighting plants within seconds or find the nearest Indian deli with one touch, this App is a wee bit different. 

But it IS an App.

Here's how it works:

Get up. Stand up. (Stand up for your rights!)

No, okay, seriously. 

Get up. Stand up. Move across the floor and walk out the door.  You can do this and don't even try and tell me you can't. Unless you're barricaded in an underground bunker while zombies roam aimlessly outside the escape hatch, it does NOT matter where you live or where you are RIGHT NOW. You can get up and walk out the door. 


Then--here's the cool part--you just keep going. I bet a million CheezeDoodles you feel awfully good within 5 minutes. 


Without being hunched over your iPad in a kyphotic (that's humpbacked, baby) posture, you can benefit from this App anytime, without worrying about spyware, malware or spiders being loaded onto your own personal software. And this is good for your hardware. You know, the hardware that is your body? 


The only place you've got to live.


I have taken a walk every single day for 76 days in a row now, and I marvel at how well my leg, back, butt and foot muscles have developed. I am delighted how my cardio capacity has increased--no running involved! I wonder why it's taken me 41 years to realize how good the simple & free act of daily walking has been for my body, mind and soul. 


Do you think that if whoever you believe created you had not wanted you to walk daily, then perhaps you would've been born with wheels on your feet or wings on your back, instead?

If a bird never used its wings but rode or walked everywhere, how do you think that bird would fare? If it never soared through the air, nor stretched and flexed the muscles that attached themselves to its skeleton, would it live a long, full and healthy life?


I don't think so. 


Please, download the WalkTheYear App. Oh, wait. You've already got it! I hope you like using it. 


Walk on, 
Dani

Day 75-But Barely Alive

Yesterday was one of the most fun days of my life. My husband threw the coolest little bluegrass festival Bainbridge Island has ever seen--in fact, it wasn't little at all. It was terrific! Not a sour face in the crowd, the sun was shining, my hoops were selling, people were dancing, beer was flowing, life was good. 

photo by Alex Sanso

I'm very proud of The Huz, and think he's the best event manager ev-uh!

photo by Alex Sanso

Anyway, it's been a looonnnnggg weekend with tremendous effort expenditure, little sleep and no rest. 

My walk today consisted of me parking my car, and walking about a mile to go buy a new (used) car. It was a purposeful walk, but I was dazed in the sunlight. It reminded me of those all-nighters we all pulled in college. The day after, we functioned in a trance-like state, doing laundry, walking to classes--but barely. 

That's how today has been. A but barely day. 

Tomorrow, we return to our regularly scheduled programming. 

Zzzzzz, 

Dani

Day 74-Yeee-(yawn)-haw!

Short sleepy walk

In early dark

The dogs they trudged

They did not bark

I got no sleep

Stayed up too late

Was makin' hoops

And they look great

It's bluegrass day

At long, long last

I have to get to the park

And fast

The Huz slept there

To watch and guard

He slept in a trailer

'Cuz the ground is hard

But he needs to shower

And scrub and clean

So I gotta hustle over

And watch the machine

Then I go back

To home, you know

Gather up my hoops

Then off I go

To sell my hoops

May they sell fast

It's Bainbridge Bluegrass Festival

At last. 

(For my newer readers, sometimes, I opt out of actually thinking by writing a quick and silly poem. It is what it is.)

See you at the festival, 

Dani

 

Day 73-If a woman falls into the ditch at 6 AM, does it make a sound?

This morning, my husband came on my morning walk with me. He's putting on a big music festival tomorrow, so he took today off from his regular job. 

We were walking along and I mentioned that I really didn't know what to blog about this morning. It happens. Sometimes my brain jar is clean empty. 

So I mentioned my idea well was dry, and he said:

"I could shove you into the ditch. That'd give you something to write about."

I laughed nervously, trying to figure out if he really did want to push me into the gully at the side of the road. And then it occurred to me that my husband was with me. 

I mean, with me. And with me. He's been putting together this bluegrass festival for a year now, not sleeping, stressing out, occasionally barking--and tomorrow is finally the big day. 


Yet he left his early-morning-last-minute-frantically-putting-together-posters-loading-the-truck-work.


To walk. Because he wanted to be with me. 


But because he's also with me. He gets that walking clears your head, pushes your reset button and relaxes you. Right now, he's busy as a one-armed wallpaper hanger, but he knew that walking would help him more than not walking.


These tiny acts of proactive self-care add up--health-wise and self-esteem-wise. And walking is one of the best, since it's free and invariably makes you feel better. Unless someone shoves you into a ditch. 


He's no dummy. 

But I'm still a little apprehensive about walking too close to the edge of the road.  

See you tomorrow at the festival, 
Dani
 

 

Day 72- I'm Batman

I woke this morning with my back and hips twisted, a pain radiating from my sacroiliac joint as I'd never experienced, and for some reason, the right side of my body was as tense as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. 

What the heck?

I'm all about alignment, and I wake up feeling like this?

What happened? 

I replayed my day, and remembered that after I got back to the island from dropping the kids off with grandparents in Seattle, I sat at my desk, furiously working on tasks, and not really paying attention to how I was sitting. I had to get things done so I could go see the latest Batman movie later with my fella. 

After that, I sat on the floor and furiously made several hula hoops to sell at my booth this weekend. While I made them, I wasn't really paying attention to how I was sitting, as I was watching my favorite parts of the second Batman movie, to refresh my memory. 


And after that, I sat slumped into a movie theater chair for 2.5 hours, not really paying attention to how I was sitting, because I was so engrossed in the new Batman movie. And my popcorn.


So this morning, as I was painfully taking myself through some life-saving exercises from The Restorative Exercise institute in an effort to correct whatever happened to my body, it hit me. When I looked back over my day, there was something consistent in each episode:
 

Batman. That's who messed up my alignment and posture!


Here I am, an innocent and noble Harvey Dent-like gal, and Batman goes and messes up my body and puts me in a twist. 


Oh. What? You noticed some other consistent factor threaded through my day yesterday? Are you trying to say this ISN'T Batman's fault? 

Who are you--Commissioner Gordon? What's your problem?

Oh. My not paying attention? Is THAT what messed me up? Several hours of rotten posture and flimsy body mechanics sent me into a twist? 


I see. 


You may be right, Alfred. You may be right. 

On the bright side, some Restorative Exercise AND my awesome walk moved things back into place, for the most part. The rest of the day will be spent PAYING MORE ATTENTION to my human machine, and less time paying attention to Christian Bale, er, I mean, The Batman. 

Gotta fly!
Dani
 







 




 

Day 71- If Soylent Green is people...then it must be high-fat.

You may not know this about me, but in addition to teaching folks how to move better and regain their health, I also write. I write for all sorts of publications, both local and in other states. Right now, I'm writing a story on local foraging. It's a pretty cool subject, and now I'm very interested. 

That's the cool thing about being a writer. You're required to learn new stuff all the time. Unless you're a sucky writer. 

Anyway, the other day, I was interviewing this fellow about his foraging habits, thoughts, etc., and he said something that really got me thinking. It went something like this (I recorded it, but am too rushed to sift through the recording): 

Humans are hardwired for finding food. So even though we have grocery stores and restaurants, we still like finding something in the wild we can eat. It appeals to some innate sensibility.

So, you're walking through the woods, you spy something red in some bushes, you realize it's an early huckleberry, you get excited and pop it in your mouth. 

Me Tarzan, you Jane. 

It's in our nature to look for food. Otherwise, how would we survive?

Unfortunately, it's also in our hardwiring to conserve energy. I can't imagine that early man would find a handful of berries and then go do wind sprints and burpees (an exercise that Crossfit seem to be thrilled by).

No, a cave woman would probably eat her meager handful of berries, then amble along, looking for more. Once full, she would rest. It only makes sense. But don't forget, she walked almost all day to find her berries and nuts.


Riddle me this, Batman: If we don't have to look for our own food, but we still have the innate drive to conserve energy, what happens to our health and the size of our asses? 


Decline and widen, respectively. 


Our American lifestyle is very sedentary, and our towns and cities aren't designed for walking. European villages and cities were built before we had cars and even bikes, so things were closer, and still are. Every three blocks, you can find a butcher, a tailor, a green grocer and a bakery. A church and a school. So you can walk to meet all your needs. I lost 30 pounds when I lived in Europe, and ate like a queen. But I walked everywhere.


I don't walk my kids to school. It's 10 miles away. Even the nearest school is 4 miles, and I don't think they want to get up that early in the morning. Safeway is 7 miles away and one of the places I work is 8 miles away. Yes, I COULD walk there, but I'd be walking the live-long day and dragging a wagon behind me to carry my groceries and library books. It wouldn't leave much time for anything else, and those other things are an advantage of a more leisurely existence--reading, knitting, playing with your kids--so a decision has to be made. 

You don't walk to go about your daily life, but you NEED to walk.  It's also part of your anatomical hardwiring. Daily walking keeps your systems a 'go'. It keeps you healthy. So if we're not doing it out of necessity, we need to actually make it a priority. That means getting up an hour earlier to walk. Or parking at one end of Winslow and running all your errands on foot. Or, yes, instead of circling for the front row spot, go to the end of the lot and walk.


You can pretend you're searching for berries along the way. It's more fun than pretending to be chased by hungry tigers. 


Big kiss, 
Dani

Day 70!!! O.M.G.

Wow. I was just thinking about how much I was looking forward to crawling into bed when it hit me like a wet mackerel across the face--I totally forgot to blog today. 

OMG!

I would've crawled into bed, fallen asleep like someone popped a cap into the back of my head (that's how I roll) and would've broken my streak! 

I walked today, I just forgot to blog about it. 

And now I cannot remember what I thought about.

Oh well, must've not been important. 

But you are! 

Thank you for reading my blog, whenever you do. I appreciate that and I apologize for spacing out on you today. 

Blurg. 

Love, 

Dani

Day 69-10,000 Steps? I don't think so.

Who has a pedometer? I used to have a little one that clipped onto my waistband. Actually, I've had three and they've all fallen off and lost themselves. I haven't used one since I began Walk The Year, but I had read some interesting facts about number of steps, so I went and bought myself one. That is in the form of a wristwatch--no more loss!

Want to know these crazy facts I read that made me think about steps?

What is the recommendation that we all step? That's right! 10,000 steps a day, or the equivalent of 5 miles. 

When I'd make those 10,000 steps each day, I was terribly proud of myself. Yay for me!

Would you like to know some other stuff? 

10,000 steps a day is what is recommended for pregnant women to stay healthy and functional throughout their pregnancy. 

Pregnant women. 

How much does the average French citizen walk? 

20,000 steps. About 10 miles. Read that again and think about it.

Is this why they can eat steak and cream and butter and pommes frites and look like this:

And we eat those things, PLUS all of our low-fat, fat-free, prepackaged atrocities and we look like this:

France has an obesity rate of 11.3%. America has an obesity rate of 32.2%. 

Let me clear something up. I do believe that 97% of what happens in weight loss happens in the kitchen. You cannot eat more than you burn, period. You need to eat whole foods that you could scrounge or hunt if you were a cavewoman or caveman. I've never seen a Cheeto bush or a Crystal Light stream. 

However, we must begin moving in a natural, human way. I'm not talking 45 minutes on a treadmill, because most humans don't get chased by tigers 45 minutes each day. I'm not talking an hour of Crossfit. 


What if you walked those 20,000 steps a day? 


What if you tried it for a month and let me know the results? 


What have you got to lose? What have you got to gain?


Our ailments are primarily those of affluence. We don't have to move or work as hard as early man, so we don't. But maybe we should take a page from their diary and spend more time moving on our feet, all day long. 


I'm just sayin'. 


See you tomorrow, 
Dani

Day 68, and feelin' great!

Okay, I know that's a super lame title, and today's post will be pretty short. I got up and walked with Jeff and the pooches in the cool air. Is it really July 22? I wore fleece and my cheeks are still tingling with cold. 

We saw a heron couple coasting on a thermal. It's always fun to see them in flight, but not in our pond, fishing.

I've got to work a long day today, slinging crepes and pulling espresso. I'll miss being around my family, but luckily, we spent all day long together yesterday. I like them. 

And that's that. I was leaving to walk this morning, and The Huz was up working on bluegrass stuff, and I threw out "You want to join me?", knowing he probably wouldn't. Lots of work to do, you know. 

Instead, he said, "I think I will!" It was cool that he did. While he was pulling on his broken-foot bootie, he said,"I'm going to subscribe to your advice that walking clears your head and refreshes you--going to try and get out more." 

That made me pretty happy. I didn't start this blog to inspire anybody, only to ensure that I walked every single day. But when I hear that someone is walking more because of Walk The Year, or they're trying to go barefoot or wear better shoes, well...it's a warm and fuzzy feeling. Enough to wipe the chill from my cheeks and stoke the warm glow of chi inside. 

Smooch!

Dani

Day 67-"Bluegrass music, It's kinda like not being embarrased when you dance"

That's me, barefoot walking and carrying a bag of dog poop. Yay!

Today we walked at Battle Point Park, running the dogs as the kids zoomed back and forth on their bikes. We were there to scope out the layout Jeff has planned for the upcoming Bainbridge Bluegrass Festival, which is happening next Saturday, July 28! From 11am -7pm! It'll be a dog-friendly, kid-friendly happenin' with over 35 food, info and arts/crafts vendors, hula hoop rentals, buskers, cloggers, snakes(!), jugglers--oh, and kick-*ss bluegrass music. 

You need to go.

I was watching my fella as he talked about his vision--the one he's been working on for the last year, volunteering his time and pulling together people, artists, vendors, donors and enthusiasts, and I was just so proud of him. He knows that, and I think he knows I'm his biggest fan and cheerleader. However, I hope you come out and show your support to not only the charities and community, but to my Mister, who has worked hard to revive this cherished festival and put it back on the map. 

Chow mein, 
Dani

PS. Tickets are $10 at gate or buy them ahead of time at Town & Country market. Kids 12 & under are free. Want to learn more, or even how you
can get in free AND get a free festival t-shirt? Scoot on over to www.bainbridgebluegrass.com

 

Day 66-Thanks for stopping by my blog, Tracy Chapman!

If you knew that you would die today,
Saw the face of God and love,
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you knew that love can break your heart
When you're down so low you cannot fall
Would you change?
Would you change?

How bad, how good does it need to get?
How many losses? How much regret?
What chain reaction would cause an effect?
Makes you turn around,
Makes you try to explain,
Makes you forgive and forget,
Makes you change?
Makes you change?

If you knew that you would be alone,
Knowing right, being wrong,
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you knew that you would find a truth
That brings up pain that can't be soothed
Would you change?
Would you change?

How bad, how good does it need to get?
How many losses? How much regret?
What chain reaction would cause an effect?
Makes you turn around,
Makes you try to explain,
Makes you forgive and forget,
Makes you change?
Makes you change?

Are you so upright you can't be bent?
If it comes to blows are you so sure you won't be crawling?
If not for the good, why risk falling?
Why risk falling?

If everything you think you know,
Makes your life unbearable,
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you'd broken every rule and vow,
And hard times come to bring you down,
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you knew that you would die today,
If you saw the face of God and love,
Would you change?
Would you change?
Would you change?
Would you change?

If you saw the face of God and love
If you saw the face of God and love
Would you change?
Would you change?




This song by Tracy Chapman was my walking chant today, so I'm taking the easy way out and posting it for you. I was walking through the pouring rain, the air rich with sweet, thick ozone, and thinking that people only tend to change when pain is involved, but not when they're comfy---even if that comfy spot isn't the right place for them to be. 

That, and "Oh, please Lord, move that lightning further away from me! I'm not wearing rubber-soled shoes and I'm walking in puddles!"

Later, Homes, 
Dani

Day 65- In fact, I DO speak jive.

Man! 65 days. If my math is correct, that means you and I get to spend 300 more days together in these brief, but hopefully satisfying interludes to your day. 

Today, more time was spent watching and correcting my gait--I do believe part of my lower back issues were caused my a lifetime of Herculean efforts to NOT pronate. When, in fact, I should've just let my little feetsies do their own thing. I'm noticing a shift in leg usage, butt usage and feeling some pleasant little release pops in my sacroiliac area--typically a troubled spot that may now have found what it wants to be when it grows up. 

Yay for alignment! 

Okay, here's a real conversation I had yesterday, when I was a "walker" at my son's Boy Scout camp. (Yes, he's a scout. No, our family doesn't believe that any family should be excluded from scouting, and we think the Boy Scouts of America's stance on excluding gays sucks. However, our local pack does not extoll such drivel, so we're sticking with them.)

So, there I am, helping out at Little Boy's camp, and this overweight, middle-age, misaligned ol' fella sidles up to me, points at my Monkey Toe shoes, and sez, "Anybody given you a hard time about those yet?"

Yeah, every time I wear them.

"No," says he. "I mean, here at camp. They don't allow open-toe shoes." He smirked at me like he'd won a bet. 

Well, these aren't open-toed, so I guess I'm good.

He harumphed a bit and said,"What if you stubbed a toe?"

I did my best to lift my foot in front of his pouchy, red face, wiggled my Monkey Toes at him, and said:


See? They've got hard-rubber protected toes. No worries.

That's when he stopped smirking and sputtered, "You're supposed to have foot protection!" 

That's when my inner-*sshole peered out and stated:

I bet I could stomp on your oxfords and hurt your toes just as much as if you had my shoes on. They make me leave because of these shoes, I'll fight them, tooth and nail. 
 
He screwed up his face, which got even redder. The woman who'd been standing next to me quickly pointed to her heavy duty hikers and said, "Hey, I've got us both covered, so she's fine, okay?"

He let me be and stomped off, but for the rest of the hour, whenever I walked by, he'd crane his stiff old neck around and try and throw some disapproving stink-eye my way.  I wish I could cartwheel, because it would've been awesome to do that past his face as I passed by.

Of course, my feet survived, and it was nice padding around on that grassy fairground turf all day.  It was a fun time! I stood for 8 hours and never got foot nor leg fatigue, although I did get surrounded-by-100-little-boys-fatigue. 


I look forward to our remaining 300 days together. 


XOX, 
Dani


 

Day 64-Sling 'dat zombie slang!

Walking was quiet and sweet and early this morning. My thoughts were actually quite empty, but I did walk with intention. My intention? Pay ATTENTION to my gait. Gait?

gait/gāt/-noun A person's manner of walking; a particular way or manner of moving on foot. 

I've been working on adjusting my gait naturally, for the past 64 days of walking in a neutral heel, barefoot shoe. This has gradually changed my leg muscles, the way I step, and my gait. 

To a point. 

There's still more work to do to achieve alignment.

It turns out, I turn out. At least on one foot. Why? Because when I was little, my left foot was so turned in that they put me in a cast. It's lovely to see baby pictures of me in a leg cast--I'm sure my mother got dirty looks every time she went out with me. 

I was always told I had severe pronation, especially on my left foot--Woot! Christy Brown!--so I worked REALLY hard my entire life to not pronate. My left foot did not comply, but my right did. Too much. So, while it doesn't turn out severely, it turns out enough for an alignment geek like me. I spent yesterday watching it, and shifting it. 

More of the same today. Fortunately, I've got a great gig today to work on it. 
Today, I will be attending my son's scout camp as a helper parent all day. That means schlepping along with a gaggle of wee boys as they move from archery to the BB gun range to the cooking station, keeping them in line and occasionally flicking the back of one of their heads when they misbehave. And the name they give this role the parents play as we follow along? 

Walkers. 

How cool is that? I know, it's also slang for "zombie", but it's also what we were born to do, every day. 

Enjoy the day, 
Dani

 

Day 63-Rambling on and on until thoughts arrive.

Every once in awhile, my supportive mommy will call me and say, "I sure like your blog! I'm always so impressed that you come up with something to write about every day!"


Uh, heh heh. Yeah. Something EVERY DAY. 

Prepare to be unimpressed, madre. 

Today during my walk, I enjoyed the smell of grass and blackberry bushes, spend time thinking about how many blackberries I'm going to pick with the kids this summer, thought about my friend Alex and how cute it was when I dropped by her house yesterday and she padded out in MONKEY TOE SHOES!!!


I was so proud! Good for her! They were blue. 


I hope she loves them. 


I was also thinking about the workshop I held last night, or rather, the workshop participants. They were truly awesome---one of my favorite groups, for sure. There was an interesting situation with one of them. She had an abdominal condition that would create a tremendous amount of back pain. Yet she suffered no pain. At all. I was noticing her glutes, legs and back (it's my job, it's what I do. I look at butts.) and noticed that they were very well-developed. Then I asked her if she walked a lot. She replied, "My whole life. Barefoot, too."


Ah ha. 


Ah ha!


Considering her abdominal muscles and by all anatomical logic and past experiences in my practice, this gal should've suffered constant back pain. 
Why none, then?


Walking every day, her whole life? I've got money on it. 

When you walk in neutral heel shoes or barefoot, your legs and pelvis are allowed to move as engineered. By nature, not by humans at Nike. That daily walking allows the proper development of your muscles. Those muscles are the things that move your bones. When they are properly, naturally developed, they are at the correct lengths to keep your bones in alignment. 

Remember, your bones don't move themselves---they can't. Your muscles move your bones. So if your muscles are out of whack, your bones--your skeleton--will be, too. Getting your pain fixed by a chiropractor is only temporary. Your "adjustment" is simply the doctor manipulating your muscles so they let go temporarily, relieving you of your immediate, acute pain. 


Soon, those under- or overdeveloped muscles go back to their silly ways and snap your skeletal structure back out of whack. And you're back at Doctor Chiropractor, for another adjustment.


Be preventative. Be proactive. Get out and walk. In neutral heel shoes. Let your body doctor itself. Give yourself a week or two of staying out of heeled shoes and walking daily, and you will begin to feel big differences for the better. 


There, I thought of something to write about today. My mother will be proud. And here's a picture of the heron that treats our pond like it's the McDonald's Drive-Thru while I'm out on walks. 

You should see his face when I come back home. 


Walk well, 
Dani

Day 62-I'm walking, yes indeed...

Ever notice that in books and movies, when people are troubled, angry or have lost their way, they get out the door and walk? 

Why do you think that is? 

I like to call (in my head, of course) walking "Open Door Therapy". You open the door, take a step, repeat and boom! There's your therapy. 

Some folks get the same work done while running, some while knitting, some while burning up a pile of things. Whatever the method for catharsis, walking is the cool one that is typically featured. 

*/-/49*-3-.98+/9*-+-95869-+69/*-+9+6/9-98-+

Note:The above line is me frantically wiping coffee dripped onto my keyboard with my t-shirt tail. I was going to erase it, but then looked closer and realized that it was computer code for "oh sh*t!".


I'd like to delve a little deeper into why the rhythmic motion of our legs and feet swinging settles, organizes and expels thoughts so well. Oh, wait, I'll start that right now. Hold on, please.

From Psychology Today, February 2012:

Research suggests that walking may not make you a genius but it will improve your attention and concentration not to mention help your mood, well being, self-esteem, and even your physical health. 

Well, der. 

There's got to be more, about neural connections and dendrites and oh, yes, here's some good stuff from the Franklin Institute:

Walking is especially good for your brain, because it increases blood circulation and the oxygen and glucose that reach your brain. Walking is not strenuous, so your leg muscles don't take up extra oxygen and glucose like they do during other forms of exercise. As you walk, you effectively oxygenate your brain. Maybe this is why walking can "clear your head" and help you to think better.

Movement and exercise increase breathing and heart rate so that more blood flows to the brain, enhancing energy production and waste removal. Studies show that in response to exercise, cerebral blood vessels can grow, even in middle-aged sedentary animals.

That's what I'm talking about. 

Big hugs, 

Dani

 

Day 61--Day is Done

Today I worked a busy 8.5 hours. That wore me out. Normally, it wouldn't have, but I also weed-whacked for 3.5 hours yesterday. My body is whomped. 

My walk was short and sweet today---through the town, in drizzly soft and furry rain as I munched a bag of Rainier cherries, in a trance and smelling like a creperie.

Met up with my little family as they played in the waterfront park. 

Life is good. 

Tired kisses, 

Dani

Day 60. Dude! It's Day 60!

Here is a definition of plantar fasciitis from a web site that sells orthodics:

Plantar Fasciitis is defined by various sources as irritation and swelling of the thick tissue on the bottom of the foot. Plantar fascia is the very thick band of tissue that holds up the bones on the bottom of the foot. This fascia can become inflammed, making walking difficult and very painful.

 

How to Recognize it:
A very common complaint is pain in the bottom of the heel. It is usually worse in the morning and may improve throughout the day. By the end of the day the pain may be replaced by a dull aching that improves with rest. Most people suffering from plantar fasciitis also complain of increased heel pain after walking for a long period of time.

So, you've got this pain, and you get insoles for "arch support", and you feel better, right?

Er, no. 

Here's what got me thinking about plantar fasciitis: yesterday afternoon, I took off for another walk, this one completely barefoot. The thunder clouds were rolling in, I'd made a berry pie for my clan, and I wanted some ozone threads brushing over my skin like walking through silken webs. It was lovely.

As I was walking, I was thinking about a time several years ago, when I suffered from severe plantar fasciitis. I could barely walk. It truly can be debilitating. 

After a visit to the doc, I was informed that I needed to buy insoles called "Super Feet", and could never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever go barefoot again---that ALL my shoes needed serious arch support. 

That was a sucky diagnosis. I didn't like it, but I took it. 

For about 6 months. 

And my feet didn't really feel better. 

In fact, I had started with PF in my left foot, but it spread to my right. WTH?

It then occurred to me, through some universal grace, that my feet were created to hold me up and not hurt. How could I make this happen?

Research, and my awesome best friend who introduced me to self-myofascial release techniques (thank you, Sara Hatfield, you saved me!), and the guts to defy my doctor's advice, and I cured my plantar fasciitis. Threw away the super feet, got some Earth Shoes for times when I needed to look semi-professional, got the best flip-flops known to humans--Montrail Molokinis--and began a regimen of stretching and self-myofascial release and I was healed! 

Which really made me appreciate padding through Fort Ward like this last evening:

Since then, in my studies at the Restorative Exercise Institute, I've learned even more ways to fix my feet and feel healthy. In my line of work, I see people in such incredible pain, and it's 98% self-inflicted. Learn to move better, and you can feel better. For reals. 

Best, 

Dani

 

Day 59--Uh...duh...

Not much to say

Not much to write

Slept in, short walk

Up late last night!

No wisdom

Not one funny thought

Except for the new

Toe-Shoes I bought

Buy one, get one!

An indulgent treat. 

So I bought two pair 

For my silly monkey feet.

No bunions

No corns!

My toes are free!

It's happy healthy feet for me!

 

Later, Gator,

Dani

 

 

Day 58-Walk a mile in my shoes. I'm not using them anymore.

Last night, we drove to Port Townsend to get a fiddle for a jug-band stranger. 

Doesn't everybody do that?

Anyway...after the fiddle hand-off, we strolled through the streets of PT, looking for a place to eat that didn't charge $25 a plate. There is one. Boy, times have changed since I lived in the woods of Port Townsend in a dilapidated school bus! 

Where'd all those high class, Richie Rich retirees come from? And, where'd all the bikers and stoners go? Man, I've never seen so many upscale boutiques that no one can afford, except on Bainbridge Island.

Oh, well. Times do change. 


I timidly took off my sandals and walked the streets of PT with my husband , nearly embarrassed that I was barefoot. Isn't it funny? If you're unshod, you're a kook. Period. So, I'm a kook. 


But this morning, the soles of my feet looked up at me and whimpered, "Too much, too soon." I mentioned to husband that perhaps I would wear my monkey-toe shoes today, and he said, "Yeah, you don't have to do it all at once."


I agreed, because anyone who knows me knows moderation is my strong suit.


HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA (deep breath)
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Have a good day, Punkin, 
Dani

Day 57---Head, shoulders, corns and bunions, corns and bunions!

I have already become hooked on barefoot walking. This is day 4, and I couldn't wait to get out the door this morning.

My husband had been trying to get me to read "Born to Run" for many months, since he knew I liked my Vibrams so very much. I finally started to read it, and it has coincided beautifully with my new-found hobby of awesomeness in barefoot walking/hiking.  Just last night, I settled in for my bedtime read and as I was reading about the benefits of letting your feet work naturally, my own tootsies were tingling with a new awareness and circulation. Walking barefoot is like a nice, long acupressure massage.

If you can wade through the book's writing--it's like an epic Men's Fitness article--it has some great pondering points. For barefoot running (or as I like to call it, "walking"). 


And against shoes. 




Blech, shoes! Boo, shoes!




I know that right now, my sweet husband is cringing, his face buried in his hands as he thinks, "Oh, please, no, please don't become the Crazy Barefoot Lady of Bainbridge". 


Well, I can't guarantee that I won't. People already gave me funny looks when I wore my monkey-toe shoes around town and at work. Now cars slow down when they drive by. I can't tell if it's my three odd-size pack of dogs or my bare feet. Maybe it's the fanny pack?




I'm not for running as a form of exercise, as you know. Remember, running is for avoiding being a tiger's meal and/or saving your babies from floating over the waterfall. There is no evidence that running as cardio extends your life any more than walking, but there is a hellatious amount of evidence that running busts up your human machine pretty good. HOWEVER, 


I am for minimalist footwear. 


My thought for several years has been:Why would you mess with a machine designed to work in your favor? 


Your feet were designed to hold you up, flatten when they need to cushion a load and pronate--yes, PRONATE--as part of the proper mechanics of walking. 


Pronate? That means your feet roll inward. Since I was a child, shoe salesmen were telling me "You pronate. We'll correct that with proper arch support in your shoes!" 

I know they meant well, but I read an interesting argument in the book that helped me convey why my feet are healthier and feel better now after ditching conventional shoes and those ridiculous orthodics. 

"Blueprint your feet, and you'll find a marvel that engineers have been trying to match for centuries. Your foot's centerpeice is the arch, the greatest weight-bearing design ever created. The beauty of any arch is that it gets stronger under stress; the harder you push down, the tighter the parts mesh. No stonemason worth his trowel would ever stick a support UNDER an arch; push up from underneath and you weaken the whole structure. Buttressing the foot's arch from all sides is a high-tensile web of twenty-six bones, thirty-three joints, twelve rubbery tendons and eighteen muscles, all stretching and flexing like an earthquake-resistant suspension bridge."

If your leg is in a plaster cast, 40-60% of the muscles atrophy within 6 weeks. So imagine what's happened to the muscles in your marvelous foot when you encase it in a shoe. For 40 years.

Muscles shrivel, tendons stiffen, and your foot can't do it's job. 
 
Did you know that in countries where most people go barefoot, fallen arches, corns, bunions, hammertoes and flat feet are nearly non-existent?

But, it's so pretty!!

Or, you could wear these. These are cool. 

 These are even more cool. Way cooler. For sure.

And people chuckle at ME!

Ha ha, 
Dani