After all, they had to be with me for the rest of my life. This philosophy made sense to me because these were the days before liposuction and plastic surgery, prior to the notion that we can actually modify what
G-d gave us. Nowadays its common for people to add or take away cleavage, suck out some fat from their butts ( I wish!) or add some to their lips and cheeks (Have you seen Lisa Rinna lately? She looks like a balloon got lodged inside her face.)
But back then, taking care of your feet and teeth seemed like sound advice, something I could actually control, and even though she never liked my hair styles (80’s flashback) I still appreciated my grandmother’s common sense.
I have always hated my feet, colossal in size, overpronating and double jointed toes that are longer than my friend’s fingers, I just felt that they were simply UGLY. But I have since learned to love my feet. They have served me well over the years. I was thinking of this philosophy this morning while I was out for a run. I really do take good care of my feet. To this day I wear sneakers when I have to walk anywhere. I keep 6 inch heels by my desk in case I need to run into a meeting (or walk into the meeting very slowly if you want to be literal because yes, I have tripped and sprained my ankle just walking.) But I will not take more than 6 steps to the water cooler with uncomfortable shoes on. I am the woman you see on the streets of Manhattan that gives homage to Melanie Griffith aka Working Girl by wearing a dress and sneakers with no shame at all.
I bring this up because I have been on a kick lately of appreciating every suspect of the human body and how it works. I was training yesterday at the gym with the meanest trainer in town. I refer to him lovingly as groucho. He never smiles. He also doesnt drink or eat so its no wonder he’s so miserable. I showed up for a class and was the only one there so he gave me a 30 minute training session that made my heart jump out of my chest and hit the waitress in the diner across the street. Maybe it was the fear he instilled in me with his ominous tattoos and growl on his face but something inside of me clicked that made me want to push my feet faster than ever before. He had me running sprints around the building so fast that I beat my own personal record. (Then I went back to work and collapsed in my chair for the rest of the day but that’s beside the point.) The point is I never appreciated my feet more than I did yesterday. The very fact that they could carry me at the speed and support what my mind told them to do.
I was grateful that I listened to my grandmother so many years ago.
I think we should all take her advice to another level and think of our entire body as something that has to be with us the rest of our lives. I hope to treat mine with the respect it needs to support me to an old age.
It’s interesting to think of your body in that manner – it changes your entire perspective of how you act: What you put into your mouth, how you move it, where you take it to. If you look at your body like a possession, such as an expensive car or your home, where you take extra care to keep it clean, if you take pride in it and respect it, care for it, it will return the favor for a lifetime.