Podiatrist · Specialist in Biomechanics · Founder of VOLKAN
"Health does not consist of building a body that never needs to adapt. It consists of maintaining a body capable of continuing to adapt throughout life."
"I just want to be like I was before"
It is a phrase I hear frequently.
After a injury.
After a surgery.
When a pain appears that has been accompanying a person for months.
—I just want to be like I was before.
I always understand that desire.
We all want to regain what we feel we have lost.
But over the years I have learned that the body almost never returns exactly to the place it came from.
And, curiously, that does not mean bad news.
Because the organism does not live looking back.
It lives adapting forward.
Life changes constantly.
If we observe our body over the years, we will see a story of continuous changes.
The child learns to walk.
The teenager discovers new abilities.
The adult bears different loads.
As time goes by, new experiences, new injuries, new responsibilities, and new challenges arise.
Nothing remains the same.
However, many times we still expect health to mean keeping the same body forever.
Perhaps that expectation is impossible.
Because biology never promised immobility.
It promised adaptation.
Adapting does not mean resisting.
There is a widely held idea.
We think that adapting means enduring more.
In withstanding.
In becoming strong.
But the organism uses much more intelligent strategies.
Sometimes it adapts by increasing strength.
Other times by improving coordination.
At times by temporarily reducing the load.
And, many times, completely changing the way to solve a movement.
Adapting does not mean always doing the same thing with more effort.
It consists of finding an effective response for each situation.
Flexibility does not belong only to the joints.
It also belongs to the way the organism learns.
Perfection was never the goal.
We live surrounded by messages that talk about the perfect body.
The perfect posture.
The perfect technique.
The perfect shoe.
The perfect diet.
Without realizing it, we start to pursue an idealized version of ourselves.
But nature seems to have other plans.
It does not create perfect organisms.
It creates organisms capable of responding to the unexpected.
A tree does not demonstrate its strength because it never moves.
It demonstrates because it can bend with the wind without breaking.
Our body works in a very similar way.
Every challenge leaves a lesson.
When we overcome an injury, the body learns.
When we start training, it learns.
When we walk on unfamiliar ground, it learns.
Even when we fail, the nervous system gathers information to reorganize the next response.
That means that every experience modifies, in some way, the body with which we will face the next one.
Adaptation never ends.
And perhaps that is the most extraordinary characteristic of a living organism.
What does this have to do with barefoot?
More than it seems.
For many chapters we have talked about shoes, insoles, pain, balance, proprioception, strength, or movement.
But none of those topics were the true center of the story.
They all pointed to the same idea.
The body needs opportunities to adapt.
Barefoot does not aim to build a better organism.
It aims to provide a context in which certain abilities can return to participate.
It is a tool.
Not a destination.
Because health never depends solely on footwear.
It depends on the body's ability to respond to life.
What I see every day in consultation.
After years of working with patients, there is something that impresses me time and time again.
The people who evolve the best are not usually the ones who never have difficulties.
They are the ones who learn to relate to them in a different way.
They accept that the body changes.
That some days will be better than others.
That adapting requires patience.
And that moving forward does not always mean doing it in a straight line.
When that understanding appears, it also changes the way of experiencing the movement.
No longer is a perfect body sought.
A available body is built.
And that difference changes everything.
What you can do from today
The next time your body does not respond as you expected, try to change the question.
Instead of thinking:
"What is failing?"
Ask yourself:
"What does my body need to adapt to this situation?"
It may need rest.
It may need movement.
It may need time.
It may need help.
The answer will be different for each person.
But the question is almost always the right one.
🔬 In a sentence
Health is not measured by the absence of changes. It is measured by the organism's ability to respond to them.
The most important idea
Throughout this book we have talked about the foot, pain, learning, balance, footwear, insoles, and movement.
However, all those conversations led to the same place.
The human organism is not designed to remain still.
It is designed to change.
True health does not consist of avoiding all injuries, all mistakes, or all difficulties.
It consists of maintaining the ability to learn from them, reorganize, and keep moving forward.
Because a living body is not one that never needs to adapt.
It is the one that can still do so.
And as long as that capacity exists, there will always be the possibility to recover, improve, and move freely again.
A question to reflect on
If you could define your health in one word, would you choose perfection... or the ability to adapt?
Perhaps the answer will also change the way you decide to take care of yourself.
In the next article…
After talking for so many chapters about biomechanics, neuroscience, and adaptation, there is one last reflection.
One that does not deal with feet.
Nor with shoes.
Not even with movement.
It talks about our way of looking at the body.
Because perhaps the biggest mistake was not walking one way or another.
Perhaps the biggest mistake was thinking that the body is a machine that needs new parts when it fails.
In the next chapter we will close the journey with an idea that summarizes all the philosophy of this work:
The body is not a machine to be repaired. It is an organism with which to learn to collaborate.