I’m not the world’s most flexible gal. This is nothing new. The “sit and reach”portion of the President’s Fitness Challenge in school was always a sad joke. And in yoga class I’m usually apologizing to the instructor after like 15 minutes. Luckily in yoga they’re like, “Whatever you are, it’s perfect.” Whee!
But I recently took a fitness test as part of my new (already under-used) gym membership. In most areas, even though I could only squeak out a few push-ups, the trainer remained objective. But she truly went eye-poppingly amazed when I couldn’t touch my toes. Like, not at all. Like, my fingertips and toes were like feet apart. Really? No, just reach a little harder there… Seriously? That’s all you can do? Yes, lady, shuddup.
So I’ve been practicing a little each morning, thirty seconds at a time, and today the very tips of my fingers curled over the very bottoms of my toes. It felt unnatural. Like waving a third arm out of my spine. The bottoms of my toes were rougher than I remembered. (I guess I don’t spend a lot of time on my feet…) But in the tiny universe of stretch, reach, stretch: a victory.