​​Let’s be honest, most of us don’t think much about our feet unless there’s a problem - like an ingrown toenail or a painful middle-of-the-night cramp. When you are having a bad day, think about the day your feet are having: a quick wash in the shower (if they are lucky), and then they are shoved into shoes  - out of sight, out of mind. How would you like to spend your day in a dank cave with an itchy, smelly sock? Or hanging out on a sandal marinating in dirt and sweat? Truly, our feet are the uncomplaining workhorses of our bodies.

Take a moment to consider your feet. They support your entire body all day long. They help you balance by sending your brain information about the surface you are moving across. There are 29 muscles associated with the foot: 19 in the foot itself and 10 that originate outside the foot, crossing the ankle joint to act on the foot. Each foot has 26 bones and 33 joints. They are a structural marvel, with the arch providing both shock absorption and propulsion. When our feet are working well we have a spring in our step. When our feet are ignored we can develop pain, tightness, and limited mobility, and we have less energy due to that essential foundation not working so well. 

There are many ways to care for your feet: self-massage, wooden rollers, tennis balls. You can book a reflexology session, a massage, or a pedicure. You can soak your feet in some warm water and epsom salts or sea salt. Even walking around your house barefoot is a nice way to care for your feet. Those experiencing plantar fasciitis, when the fascia (connective tissue) on the sole of the foot is inflamed, may choose to support their feet constantly with footwear - that can help. Personally, walking around my house barefoot years ago is what cured my plantar fasciitis. It is worth experimenting to see what works best for you.

Strengthening the feet is excellent not only for self-care, but to take advantage of the benefits your strong and pain-free feet will offer up. One of my favorite ways to work my feet is with Essentrics®. We articulate each part of the foot, wiggle the toes, engage the muscles throughout the foot and arch, encourage foot and ankle mobility, and connect working our feet to working the larger muscles in the legs. This all results in feet feeling and moving better, and the full body feeling energized from the release of the tension unknowingly held in the feet and ankles.

Your feet are your foundation - enjoy taking care of those tootsies in whichever way you choose.

Learn More
Here’s an Essentrics blog post on the importance of working our feet, and it includes a foot workout video with Miranda Esmonde-White, the founder of Essentrics.

Originally published September 8 2022

​It was yesterday that I said goodbye to the dark,
       the short days,
       the long cold nights,
the treacherous ice on early runs under stars piercing the frigid clear air.

I said goodbye to the extra quilt on the bed, to its squares of red, blue and rose,
       to double-down jackets, lined knit hats,
       to the cinnamon tea,
to the round cushion, my winter throne at the hearth. 

Today I said hello to the morning light,
       the later sunset,
       the new rush of water in the little creek bed,
to the earth at the side of the road, emerging disheveled from under months of snow.

I said hello to the lone bird trilling pretty notes from high in the aspen,
while Haven eagerly snuffled muddy brown turf, 
I said hello to the sun on my bare hands, to its warmth on Haven’s black fur.
Hello, Spring.

​

​Let Go: to set free.
-Collins Dictionary

We stand on the Golden Gate Bridge, wind whipping our hair, giggling and taking silly selfies. It is June but cold enough to shiver despite our warm layers. This was not my idea, to walk to the other side and back again, but I’m glad my daughter Charlotte wanted to. Thick fog is on the move, swirling above and around us, sometimes retreating so we catch a glimpse of sienna cliffs on one side of the bridge, and the white city buildings in miniature on the other. The jade-slate surface of the water far below is unyielding, but the scent in our nostrils gives away the life it holds: salty, tangy, faintly fishy. We break into a run on the way back, moving easily, lightly, feeling the heat in our limbs, and hearing our feet hitting the solid bridge with satisfying little slaps.

The orange vermilion Golden Gate Bridge spans the Golden Gate Strait, the narrow body of water linking the San Francisco Bay and the Pacific Ocean. The bridge took over four years to build. When it was officially opened on May 27, 1937, its 4,200 foot suspension span was the longest span in the world. Our mini-adventure across this iconic landmark was fitting - it was Charlotte’s first time in San Francisco, and we were in the midst of a ten-day, 3000-mile road trip to look at colleges. And now we have another milestone: Charlotte’s 18th birthday is in three days, on March 17, St. Patty’s Day.

She is ready. She has embraced life in its entirety: school, work, friends, climbing, tennis, hiking and skiing. She is fascinated by the natural world; environmental science and orienteering courses through Colorado Mountain College (CMC) have deepened her passion. She has plenty of college options from which to choose. She is supported, resourced, self-reliant and excited about her future. For Charlotte, stepping into 18 and out of Steamboat Springs is an open door of new learning and opportunity. 

But Charlotte is aware that she is also letting go. Teachers who’ve been mentors, dear friends she’s grown up with, newer friends from work and CMC, and this mountain town which has been home for over ten years. Like the monkey bars at the playground when she was little, she must let go of the rung she’s grasping in order to proceed to the next one. 

I too feel that bittersweet mixture of melancholy and excitement. Charlotte is the most amazing human I know. In intention and deed she is a person I am tremendously proud of. I am humbled and inspired by what she takes on and how she goes about accomplishing it, and am eager to see what the years ahead hold. And yet, with this official marker of adulthood, a sense of loss is with me most days, a sadness that has taken up residence in my heart. It seems to me that a momentous era in both of our lives is done, and is now set irrevocably in the past. Though logically I understand that she will not be a young child again, her turning 18 makes that fact somehow more solid, more permanent. 

As her birthday draws closer, memories pop up with increasing frequency. It is La Galerie de Charlotte inside my skull, hung with myriad photos of Charlotte moments. My mind’s eye spotlights one, then another and another - I don’t ever run out. I am so very thankful for that.

There is two-year-old Charlotte grinning, plopped on top of her crunchy leaf-nest of orange, gold and burgundy, throwing handfuls of leaves into the air to watch them float back down. Seven-year-old Charlotte skiing the High Noon trees, whooping up and down the little rises and drops, laughing as I barrel along trying to keep her in sight. Eight-year-old Charlotte walking in the June-green Botanic Park, holding my hand and looking up at me with her open face, soft smile, calm golden-brown eyes. Seventeen-year-old Charlotte standing tall, throwing her arms up and out, reveling in the vastness of sky and mountain while climbing our first Fourteener. 
 
All of the experiences - the smells, colors, and sounds - make our relationship tangible and whole. It is hard for me to let go of the past years. It isn’t just letting go of the memories, but also the mother I thought I should be, and the mother that I actually was. It is hard to let go of this rung on the monkey bars and move to the next one, though I will do so. It is inevitable. 

In some ways marking this birthday is like being high up on the Golden Gate Bridge, pausing right in the center to take it all in. From this vantage point we can see where we’ve been - all the way back to 9:00pm on Friday, March 17, 2006, when Charlotte first came into the world.

We can also see, in every direction, the possibilities. The fog will roll in, cold and damp, obscuring the view for a bit. Then it will recede, offering that glimpse of warm red earth and blue sky. The scent of the water below will hint at what may be under the surface, unseen for now. There is so much, forward and backward and right here, that this pause holds, and all of it involves a letting go. A letting go of the past, a letting go of the idea of exactly how the future will be. In the letting go, there is simply the freedom to move towards what is next, one step at a time.

The gentle autumn breeze stirring aspen-gold and maple-red leaves. The smell of evergreen filling your nose, sharp in the cold and snow. The gentle swaying branches of a willow, soft shade on a warm spring day. The dark summer green of cottonwoods along the river, framed by deeper-than-blue summer sky. 

Trees provide shade, shelter, solace. They are homes for myriad living creatures. They benefit our climate by removing carbon dioxide from the air, storing carbon in their wood and soil, and releasing oxygen into the atmosphere. All of this is probably not news to you. 

Here are two truths you may not have known:

Tree = True
Tracing the etymology of tree to words like treow and deru, tree and true have the same root, with associations of firm, steadfast, and trust. A tree was dependable, grew straight, and could be counted upon - a true friend.
Watch this short Ted-Ed Video: The True Story of True to learn more.

Trees are among the oldest living organisms on earth. 
In the White Mountains of California, there are two bristlecone pines - Methuselah is approximately 4850 years old, and her unnamed neighbor is 5067 years old. In Fishlake National Forest, Utah, there is an aspen grove, with one root system, known as a pando, that is thought to be approximately 80,000 years old. The unnamed bristlecone takes the prize because its birthdays are verified; the pando’s age is approximated using various methods. You can read this BBC Article: The Oldest Living Thing On Earth to learn more. I especially enjoyed how the article put the age of the trees into context: the bristlecone was putting down roots before the Ancient Egyptians put up the pyramids. 

Originally published November 2022