PT
Almost fifteen years ago, I started running.
I ran out of my door, down my block, through a park, up a local hill—and back.
This lasted six weeks.
Then I hurt my knee.
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I switched my exercise routine to swimming.
I got a pool pass and swam laps.
This lasted a month.
Then I hurt my shoulder.
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I decided to take a break from exercise.
Obviously, I was doing something wrong.
In ten weeks, I’d lost the ability to use my arms and legs.
I called around and made an appointment to see a physical therapist.
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Going to PT helped a lot.
My physical therapist gave me resistance bands and a series of short daily stretches.
These built strength and flexiblity in all the little muscles and joints around the big ones I’d injured.
Soon my knee and shoulder didn’t hurt anymore.
I felt as good or better doing my daily stretches than I ever had running or swimming.
Why stop now, just because I wasn’t injured?
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Since then, I’ve gone running again maybe four more times.
I haven’t hit the pool in years.
I still do those daily PT stretches, though.
They’re far and away my most consistent form of exercise.
They’re my most consistent form of anything.
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At first, I felt a little funny making recovery from exertion my core exertion.
It’s a bit like replacing eating with brushing your teeth.
By now, though, PT is totally ingrained in me.
I’m stronger than I was fifteen years ago.
My balance is better.
I’m more flexible.
If I get hurt, I know how to heal.
Recently a friend was telling me about her recovery from depression.
She described how much talking to a counselor had helped her.
I knew just what she meant.
“Oh!” I said. “It’s like physical therapy for your mind.”
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At this point, even my PT routine has a routine.
About once every six months one of my resistance bands breaks.
Then I go back to my physical therapist’s office and say I need a new one.
They’ve hired two new receptionists since I started going there.
No one ever charges me for the replacement bands.
I guess I’m their best customer.
And their worst.