Movement Matters- Keeping The Body Capable

Keeping yourself active in many differenct ways is one of the secrets to healthy aging.

Do You Know How Much Your Body Is Doing Just to Move You?

Most of us do not think very much about the mechanics of walking across a room. We decide to go somewhere, and our body follows. We stand up, turn, walk around the dog, step over something left on the floor, reach into a cupboard and carry what we need back to the table, all while thinking about something entirely different. When movement is working well, it feels almost automatic, which may be one of the reasons we give it so little attention until something changes.

Then one day you notice that you always reach for the railing on the stairs. You realize you cannot rise onto your toes as easily as you once could. One knee seems to be doing more work than the other when you stand up, or you feel less certain walking across uneven ground.

It is very easy to attach one explanation to all of those changes: I am getting older.

Age can certainly change the body. Muscle mass and power can decline, joints and connective tissues change, reaction time may alter, and vision and the vestibular system can change as the years pass. But age alone does not tell us why a particular movement has become difficult. If you can no longer do something you once did, there is a much more useful question to ask:

What part of this movement needs help?

That question applies whether you are beginning to notice that certain abilities are becoming harder or you are seventy years old and still heading to yoga, spin class, the gym, or the hiking trail several times a week.

Walking Is Anything but Ordinary

The adult human skeleton contains 206 bones, and the body has more than 600 skeletal muscles. We don't engage every one of them every time we take a step, and there isn't one useful number that tells us exactly how many muscles it takes to walk because the answer changes with the person, terrain, speed, and movement itself. What we can say is that walking involves an extraordinary amount of coordination throughout the body.

Start at the ground. Each foot contains 26 bones and 33 joints, supported and moved by a complex arrangement of muscles, tendons and ligaments. The foot must be flexible enough to adapt as it meets the ground and stable enough to support and propel us forward. Above it, the ankle, calf, knee, thigh and hip continually change their roles as we move from one step to another. For part of every normal walking cycle, we are essentially supported on one leg while the other travels forward, which requires the hip and pelvis to control the body while the knee and ankle manage changing forces beneath us. The calf helps propel us forward, the trunk coordinates with the pelvis and legs, and the arms naturally move in opposition to them.

At the same time, our eyes are giving us information about the environment and our position within it. The vestibular system in the inner ear detects movement of the head and contributes to our sense of orientation and balance. Proprioception gives the nervous system information about where different parts of the body are and how they are moving, while sensory information from the feet tells us something about the surface underneath us. The brain brings those streams of information together and makes continual adjustments as conditions change.

If the ground slopes, the body adapts. If you turn your head because somebody calls your name, it adapts again. If something suddenly crosses your path, another adjustment occurs, often before you have consciously considered what your muscles need to do.

Walking feels ordinary because the body has become extraordinarily good at doing it.

Standing Still Isn't Really Standing Still

Balance gives us an even clearer view of how much work can hide inside something that appears effortless. Stand on one foot, and your base of support suddenly becomes much smaller. The foot and ankle begin making tiny adjustments, muscles around the hip help control the pelvis, the trunk responds as your centre of mass changes, and information from your eyes, inner ears and the rest of your body is continually being integrated by the nervous system.

From the outside, you may appear to be standing still.

You aren't.

Those little movements we often call a wobble are not necessarily evidence that balance has failed. They can be part of balance working. The body does not find one perfect position and freeze itself there; it detects changes and continually corrects for them.

Balance is not stillness. Balance is adjustment.

That also explains why balance cannot be reduced to one muscle that needs strengthening. Foot and ankle function matter, but so can hip strength, joint mobility, vision, the vestibular system, sensation, reaction time, pain, previous injury, neurological conditions and some medications. New dizziness, unexplained balance changes or falls should therefore not automatically be treated as something that can be corrected by practising harder. Sometimes the important first step is finding out why the change has occurred.

It Takes Balance and Coordination To Stand On Your Toes

There is another small movement that can tell us a surprising amount: rising onto our toes.

Try it near a secure counter, and you may discover that it is effortless, difficult, uneven from side to side, or no longer available in the way you remember. It is easy to dismiss that as an insignificant movement. After all, how often do we need to stand around on our toes?

But the movement matters. The gastrocnemius and soleus muscles of the calf work through the Achilles tendon to help raise the heel, while the foot provides the platform underneath. The ankle and foot have to control the changing position, and the rest of the body maintains balance as the centre of mass rises. Those same structures contribute to the push that helps propel us forward when we walk.

So if you once rose easily onto your toes and now cannot, the most useful response is not automatically, “Well, I'm older now.”

It is to Ask why, what has changed?

Look to see what happens in your body when you do this movement. Is there pain? Is one side working harder than the other? Then look deeper, is ankle movement limited, or is balance stopping you before strength does? Think about why this could be like this, was there an old injury, or has the body had very little reason to produce this movement for several years?

The important point is that a disappearing movement is information, and age alone doesn't tell us what that information means.

We Tend to Appreciate Movement Backwards

This may be where movement and gratitude meet in a way we don't often consider.

We notice the knee when it hurts. We become very aware of our feet when walking becomes uncomfortable. We think about our balance when we stop trusting it. Yet we rarely appreciate the thousands of ordinary days when those same systems worked together so reliably that we didn't have to think about them at all.

We tend to appreciate what an ability did for us once it becomes difficult.

What would happen if we reversed that?

Appreciating movement does not require us to believe that our bodies work perfectly, nor does it mean every physical change can be restored through exercise. It means recognizing the abilities that are available to us now and becoming curious when one begins to change, rather than waiting until the movement has disappeared before giving it our attention.

That applies just as much to someone who exercises every day. A runner, cyclist, or regular yoga student may be extremely capable within the movements they practise regularly but still discover directions of movement that their usual activity rarely asks them to address. A cyclist can have tremendous endurance and still find descending stairs asks something very different of the legs; someone with an excellent yoga practice may discover that one particular direction of movement or an unfamiliar balance challenge tells them something new about their body.

Fitness and movement capacity overlap, but they are not identical.

Being active gives the body an enormous advantage, but our favourite activities also make us particularly good at the movements we practise repeatedly. Every once in a while, it is worth becoming curious about the movements our usual activities do not ask us to perform.

For someone who is less active, the principle is the same even though the starting point is different. If standing on one foot is not currently safe, balance can begin with both feet on the floor and a hand on the counter. If the heels barely leave the floor during a toe raise, that is where the movement begins. Support does not invalidate the practice. A railing, countertop, or sturdy chair may be exactly what allows the nervous system and muscles to work on something safely enough for improvement to occur.

The body does not need us to begin from somebody else's starting point. It needs an appropriate challenge from our own.

Notice Ability While It Is Still Ordinary

Think about what your body may have already accomplished today without receiving any recognition for it. You moved from lying down to sitting, brought yourself to standing, walked across changing surfaces, turned corners, reached for objects, and maintained your balance through all of it. Your nervous system coordinated information from your eyes, inner ears, and body while muscles throughout you made continual adjustments that required almost no conscious attention.

The fact that we don't have to think about most of this may be one of the most remarkable things about it.

So this week, choose one movement and become curious about it. Notice whether the two sides of your body approach it differently. Notice whether strength, mobility, balance, or confidence seems to be the limiting factor. If something has changed significantly, find out why. If it is appropriate to practise it, give the body opportunities to do so. And if it works beautifully, keep giving it reasons to work.

There may be more happening inside one ordinary step than we have ever stopped to appreciate.

Three Ways to Explore Your Balance This Week

These are not tests, and there is no number you need to achieve. Work beside a sturdy counter or another secure support, particularly if your balance is uncertain.

1. Find Your Base

Stand beside a secure counter with your feet at a comfortable width and notice how stable that position feels. Gradually bring the feet closer together. If that remains comfortable, place one foot slightly ahead of the other, narrowing your base further. Those who already have excellent balance can explore a heel-to-toe position while keeping support within immediate reach.

Instead of trying to eliminate every wobble, notice the adjustments at your feet, ankles, and hips. You are giving your balance systems a changing problem to solve.

2. Restore the Push

With a secure counter available, rise onto your toes as far as you comfortably can and lower the heels with control. Notice whether both sides appear to contribute equally and whether lowering feels as controlled as rising.

If your heels barely leave the floor, begin there rather than forcing more height. If two-legged heel raises are already very easy, increase the challenge thoughtfully by using less hand support or exploring one side at a time when it is safe for you to do so.

The goal is not to prove how high you can rise. It is to keep giving the calf, ankle, and foot system a reason to produce and control a movement that helps propel you through the world.

3. Give Your Balance Something Else to Think About

Once you are secure with your support nearby, change the problem instead of only trying to stand longer. With both feet on the ground, slowly turn your head from one side of the room to the other and notice whether your sense of steadiness changes. Then try reaching one arm comfortably in different directions while allowing your body to make the adjustments needed to remain balanced.

If you are already highly active and have excellent balance, begin from a more challenging but safe stance rather than removing every source of support. The purpose is to ask your nervous system to coordinate movement, position, and balance at the same time.

Balance is not the absence of movement.

It is the ability to respond to movement without losing ourselves.