Feet First – But No Gain Without Pain
As a rule I use my foot: each and every day. Having one at the end of each leg sure helps, but since last week one of them, with a leftie tendency, has gone ‘on strike’. Not, on strike, in a 1970’s “everyone out” Red Robbo type way, but in a ‘this is bleedin’ painful’ type way. But without the blood. Time for the Physio to kick my metatarsals and Achilles tendons into decent shape I thought. Rumour has it, that there are a mere 26 bones in each foot and sometimes they have an off day, or in my case, a few weeks of insolent vacation and increasingly ‘this little piggy’ numbness.
Every Picture Tells A Story
Friday afternoon I arrived at said Physio, she had a free end of the week slot and the hour duly arrived… slight, expectant, gulp. I looked around, spying many a photo and ‘grateful’ captions from sporting icons of the world of two and three wheeled motor sport. Most (this being a motorbike Isle) were road racers, sidecar champions and off road enduro riders – to us locals, they are adrenaline inducing, hard riding rock stars. All fully re-physioed back together, and bodily buffed up. But not all need an engine – Sir Chris Hoy was ‘hanging’ there too, along with a nice, as expected, caption. Wow, just looking at him I thought what a size, or more like ‘what a thighs’. He didn’t get them sat down, or he did?
Blue is The Colour
When Physio girl slung me a pair of blue shorts, I knew she meant business and more than a foot makeover was soon underway. Nattily bedecked in my ‘blues’, I was stood standing on one leg – knee bent, then the other, one by one finishing with a semi twirl. I was adept at this Stork impression lark on one leg, without wobbling (much) but sadly I wasn’t thrown a juicy mackerel to cap things off. Apparently, while ‘left leg standing’, I was prone to lift the middle toes to help my balance. Therein lay her first clue. Next thing, now I am prone and she’s pressing hard into the left foot, first between the toes, then deep into the heel, but targeting an oh so evident pressure point. She sure hit the spot – one that only a masochist could pay to enjoy. This, I thought, is where the fun stops.
Navvies Hands Have It
I asked (twice) if she would stop (pretty please) from digging her nails into my foot, but she assured me she wasn’t – she was just using the pad of her index finger to really get into the ‘spot’. Wow and woa I thought – this pain gaining exercise stuff. Halfway through she showed she’d clearly passed exams at the Newcastle shipbuilders ‘hand strength’ finishing school. Maybe I was wimping out, but this wasn’t pain like in childbirth, or even man flu – but it was perversely pleasurable, especially when it stopped.
Always Seek New Tricks
We ambled the time away talking about her recent skills ‘top up’ course in London. Already with an MSc in ‘people bending’ or some such, she’d been in the Big Smoke for a three day tutorial on the latest in physiology ideas. It was a kind of East meets Western medics: one where meridian lines met more traditional medicine. The lady leading it was an Australian (but now living in Wales) a sort of “G’day Bronwen, throw another prawn on the valley” type expert. It seems that science is finally waking up to the morphic resonance of invisible force fields surrounding our physical bodies. By aligning with them, we gain better and more integrated health.
The Final Count Down and Tally Up
Before too long the pain was over and oh, big sigh, the legs were getting their final rub down too – a quick heel rotation or two and I was soon on my way. Overnight, the foot pain seemed halved, give or take, (sort of a 20 hour childbirth lite now) and I’d slept better too. Yesterday, three hours walking with the dog didn’t faze either foot (or the dog). “Good jaaahhb” as they say Stateside. So those 26 bones are now more than happy bunnies (and little piggies) and so was I. I’ll check in again at the clinic to set me up for some proper summer walkathons. If you’re passing near Peel and need a tune up, Isla Scott will set you up, right (or left) – if she’s not too busy pop riveting the next Geordie tug boat.