I got a new hip. ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏
| Last month, I had hip replacement surgery. I’d been putting it off for years, trying to eke out every last unit of time I had before going under the knife, but I’d been waiting long enough. It was the right time to do it. My hip had degenerated thanks to decades of wear and tear and an inflammatory diet—mostly during my marathon and triathlon years when I was eating almost 1,000 grams of carbs a day, gallons of ice cream, a six-pack of beer, and untold amounts of refined grains. Not to mention logging hundreds of miles a week on the roads in substandard overly padded shoes. The years caught up with me. It all came to a head about five years ago, when I was hiking in the Malibu Hills on a narrow, single-track trail along the hillside. A woman came barreling down toward me, didn’t notice I was there, and I was forced to step off downhill, jarring the hell out of my hip. Last month I went to Vail and had probably the best surgeon in the world perform the operation. The day after surgery, I was walking. I was able to put on my Peluvas and go for a quarter-mile walk. My gait was normal, I was reasonably fast, and I was pain free. It was a modern miracle. Orthopedic surgery has gotten so much better it's unbelievable. But it's not just thanks to the surgery. Even before my surgery, when my hip was at its worst, I could still walk. I couldn't sprint anymore. I couldn't play Ultimate Frisbee. But I could walk. And therein lies the power of walking: it's the baseline movement medium out of which everything that makes humans special emerges. When hominids stood upright and began walking, the world opened up. Suddenly they could see for miles across the horizon. They could carry tools and food and water. They could transport culture and create civilization. When kids take their first step, they're on the road to becoming fully human with full agency, curiosity, and exploration. When you walk, your brain works better. Creativity flows. Ideas appear. Solutions to problems you'd been stuck on for days materialize. When you walk, your joints stay lubricated. Your lymphatic system pumps waste out of tissues. When you can't do anything else but walk, walk. Good things tend to happen when you do that. In this New Year, if you do nothing else, I want you to take a good solid walk every single day. Just do that for the next month and see how good your life gets. Take care, everyone. |
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Mark's Daily Apple 1101 Maulhardt Ave. Oxnard, CA 93033 |
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