It Was Harder Than I Thought

Yesterday, I wrote about pushing the ground when I walk.

Today, I had a different thought.

This is harder than I expected.

Of course it is.

If I haven’t been using those muscles much, why would they suddenly be happy to work?

Honestly, I could easily imagine myself giving up and returning to my usual way of walking.

While I was thinking about that, I sat down on a bench.

I straightened my posture.

Or at least, I thought I did.

Then I noticed something.

I wasn’t really lengthening my body.

I was arching my back.

I’ve always been prone to that.

The image that came to mind was a soft rubber ball squeezed from one side.

One area collapses.

Another bulges outward.

My back tightens.

My belly pops forward.

A rather glamorous arrangement, if you ask my lower back.

But what if the pressure were distributed evenly?

What if the front and back of the body were the same length?

That’s the feeling I started searching for.

Not pulling myself into a perfect posture.

Just finding a place where the front and back of my body seemed balanced.

When I found it, something interesting happened.

My abdomen gently switched on.

Not because I consciously tightened it.

It simply joined the conversation.

There was a feeling of quiet support through the center of my body.

So I started walking again.

And suddenly, pushing the ground felt different.

I wasn’t trying so hard anymore.

My weight naturally flowed into my feet.

The push happened almost by itself.

And that’s when I laughed.

Ah.

So that’s what everyone means when they talk about the core.

I’ve known that for years.

I’ve studied it.

I’ve taught it.

And yet somehow, I had to discover it all over again while sitting on a park bench.

The body is funny like that.

Knowing something in your head and understanding it in your body seem to be two completely different things.