The Practice of Natural Movement Read online

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  Does the question make you smile? Does it sound irrelevant or silly? Most importantly, what’s the answer? How would you train a wild tiger to be fit? Would you tell the tiger to sit on an exercise machine and run on a treadmill? Would you instruct the tiger to jump on a BOSU and focus on activating its core because it’s functional? Can you imagine our tiger sweating on an elliptical and frequently checking its pulse rate? Or could it be that a tiger doesn’t need to exercise at all because it’s naturally or genetically fit?

  Here’s my answer: To become fit and remain optimally healthy, a tiger needs to move the way tigers move for their day-to-day survival within their natural biome. It’s that simple. Tigers move naturally when they’re free to live the natural life every tiger should live—as will all wild animals. Throughout their lives, wild animals move the way nature and evolution intend them to move simply because, in nature, moving naturally and staying fit is a matter of survival and being able to reproduce, so life goes on and the species doesn’t disappear from the Earth. Every newborn animal starts developing its species-specific movement aptitudes early on for this very reason. If wild animals maintain optimal fitness in this natural way, why on Earth should it be any different for humans? Because we’re not “animals”? Because we’re smart and they’re not? Because we’re advanced and they’re unevolved? Or because we know better thanks to science? Isn’t it logical to consider that human beings could attain incredible fitness by following a species-specific approach to movement and conditioning that is methodical, scalable, progressive, and safe?

  Gray Cook, a renowned physical therapist and functional movement expert, once said: “We are made to grow strong and to age gracefully. Reclamation of authentic movement is the starting point.” So maybe it is high time for a healthy and meaningful paradigm shift in the way we approach exercise.

  After you’ve read this entire book, the idea of Natural Movement might seem very simple. That’s my hope. You might discover that Natural Movement is a truth that you’ve been familiar with even though it’s been somewhat absent from your life. You just needed someone else to point it out for it to become obvious again.

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  Manifesto

  1 Evolutionary: Natural Movement stems from the way our species has adapted to life in nature since the dawn of mankind.

  2 Instinctual: We start developing fundamental Natural Movement patterns as infants without needing instruction.

  3 Universal: Natural Movement is everyone’s birthright regardless of ethnicity, gender, or age.

  4 Practical: The primary purpose of Natural Movement is to be useful at ensuring basic physiological needs.

  5 Vital: Natural Movement supports survival in life-threatening circumstances and ultimately serves biological fitness.

  6 Unspecialized: Natural Movement skills are interrelated and work symbiotically.

  7 Adaptable: Natural Movement adjusts to the diverse contextual variables and demands of the real world.

  8 Environmental: Natural Movement originally developed as adaptive behavior for the diverse natural environments in which early humans lived.

  9 Progressive: Natural Movement capability is developed and should be maintained over time.

  10 Efficient: Natural Movement tends to meet the level of performance necessary for maximum effectiveness, energy conservation, and safety.

  11 Mindful: Attention ensures efficiency in Natural Movement.

  12 Cooperative: Humans use Natural Movement primarily for the benefit of the group or community they belong to.

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  Evolutionary

  “There is more in us than we know. If we can be made to see it, perhaps, for the rest of our lives, we will be unwilling to settle for less.”

  —Kurt Hahn

  Evolutionary Background

  Imagine yourself going for a walk in nature, maybe with a small group of close relatives and friends, except the time is 50,000 years ago. Your body structure is not different than today, but the world around you is completely wild—no roads, cars, cities, restaurants, or malls, and no planes in the sky. You are a hunter-gatherer, occasionally a scavenger, and your hungry band is on its way to procure the most nutritious food in the greatest amount it can find.

  You’re equipped with only primitive tools, although your body is in itself a remarkable piece of biological technology. It might or might not look muscular, lean, or “fit” by modern standards, but it is certainly strong, nimble, agile, and resilient. On top of these highly desirable physical qualities and physiological adaptations, you also possess very sharp senses, acute alertness, and mental fortitude. Lastly, you have wit and experience, which are indispensable for planning effective survival strategies in a way that raw strength and brute thinking could never match. You might have to explore a broad territory, encountering diverse environments and varied weather conditions, so you can hunt or gather what is necessary for your group to survive. Whatever your survival strategies are, effective natural movements are what you need to be opportunistic, adaptable, and, most importantly, successful.

  Your way of life demands frequent, varied, and sometimes intense physical action. While long periods of rest and recovery are a vital component of survival, there is no room for perpetual slackers in this wild era and world. Your band is made up of untamed, wild, primal individuals. In other words, you are a natural human, and performing Natural Movement is a daily necessity and reality. This is what the situation was for humans and early hominids for roughly three million years.

  Then something happened about 12,000 years ago—a dramatic change in survival strategy that eventually profoundly affected the life of most human beings on Earth: the advent of agriculture. Although producing our own food was an undeniable survival advantage when it was combined with fishing, hunting, and harvesting wild foods, as it progressively became the main method of supplying food—along with raising animals—it started to cause problems from a physical and movement perspective.

  Humans didn’t need to wait until the advent of the information age—or even until the advent of the industrial age—to undergo a dramatic change in physical behavior; the change started with the agricultural age. Choosing to tend fields, crops, and domesticated animals that mostly didn’t wander over large areas meant that the distances humans needed to cover were immediately reduced by a considerable amount. There was no need to “commute to work” by walking or running for miles and miles. The change went beyond the distances covered in a day, though; it also radically altered the diversity of movements we once performed routinely. Fields, which had been cleared of as many natural variables as possible, were artificial environments; trees (live or dead), stumps, unwanted vegetation, large rocks, and even bumps and depressions in the ground were cleared so land could be fully controlled and farmed. Fields were flat, linear, and predictable with little to no environmental complexity and diversity. Drastically altering the terrain also drastically modified our Natural Movement behavior.

  Activities that were formerly necessary for daily living—running, jumping, balancing, crawling, and climbing—had become rare occurrences. This is not to say that these movement patterns became totally absent—young children kept practicing them instinctually—but they were not the norm any longer. It also doesn’t mean that physical effort was eliminated; in fact, physicality might have become even more necessary than ever because old-school farm work required almost constant physical effort. However, in comparison to the movement of the hunter-gatherer, the movement variety of the farmer had been extraordinarily reduced because of the changes to the environment where humans moved and procured food.

  If we look at the overall movement behavior of contemporary, yet still technologically primitive, hunter-gatherers, we observe that they have maintained, by necessity, a broad movement repertoire—the full range of Natural Movement aptitudes including running, crawling, jumping, balancing, climbing, throwing, catching, lifting, carrying, and occasionally swimming. They may not perform all these
movements with the same frequency and intensity—because those qualities depend on individual roles and ability and the environment in which a given human group lives—but, overall, we can observe a greater diversity of natural movements than in agricultural populations.

  Clearly, there is a phenomenal mismatch between today’s physical behaviors and those of our faraway ancestors and contemporary hunter-gatherer relatives. Having been physically and physiologically shaped by millions of years of Natural Movement in wild environments, a few millennia did not give our bodies enough time to genetically adapt to the circumstances of our modern way of life. This evolutionary mismatch is affecting our bodies, our health, our psychological states, and our lives. Evolution—or, if you prefer, millions of years of life in nature—has not only determined what we are capable of but also what our biology expects from us physically and mentally. Humans may not be completely out of place in the modern world we have created, but some of our evolutionary behaviors sure are.

  Evolutionary Mismatch: The Zoo-Human Predicament

  Let’s look at the typical physical behavior and movement habits in modern, civilized humans. For now, I’m not addressing the artificiality of modern living environments, which is also part of the evolutionary mismatch and what is sometimes called our “zoo-human” condition. At this point, I’m considering how we move, or don’t move, within modern environments.

  What do we do when we wake up? We get out of bed and walk a few steps to the kitchen, where we sit for breakfast, or we go to the bathroom where we stand for a shower. Soon it is time to go to either school or work. We might have to walk a short distance to the car, the bus stop, or the train station. A minority of physically active people choose to take their bikes; yet even those who do travel by bike sit as they’re riding.

  At school or work we immediately take a seat and start studying or working. At lunch time, we might stand up and walk a few steps to sit somewhere else until we return to work. Throughout the day, we might take a few breaks from sitting; at those times, we stand up and walk a few steps to go to the coffee machine (where we might stand and chat for a moment) or the bathroom (where we sit for a moment).

  We return home the same way we traveled to school or work—probably sitting. We feel tired at the end of the day and need to sit on a couch to relax and entertain ourselves, or we might sit on a chair for more computer time, be it for extra work hours or to connect with other people on social media. Physically active people, which are a minority in today’s society, might go to a gym after work—traveling there by sitting in private or public transportation—and they work out while mostly sitting at exercise machines. Then we sit for dinner.

  Eventually, we walk a few more steps to go to bed, sleep, and probably repeat the same pattern the next day. Apart from sitting, rising to a standing position, walking a few steps, and making some hand gestures for communication, what other movements have we performed?

  With human nature caged in a narrow space, whipped daily into submission, how can we speak of its potentialities?”

  —Emma Goldman

  When your main, if not exclusive, form of day-to-day natural locomotion is to slowly walk very short distances on flat surfaces and to be physically idle by sitting the rest of the day, from a biological perspective you’re in a state of movement poverty. Where is the diversity, the variability, the frequency, the intensity, the efficiency, and the adaptability in movement that we’re evolutionarily capable of? Nowhere. It’s nowhere to be observed in the typical physical behavior of modern humans. Although this deficit of activity is viewed as “normal,” does that mean it is? Does it mean it’s natural? Is it healthy or desirable?

  Evolutionary science, or the simple observation of how most wild animals behave, indicates that physical idleness is not “laziness”; it’s a necessary adaptation for successful survival. If you want to last, you can’t exhaust all your energy; you must conserve energy for a time when you really need it, and you expend it only when necessary. It’s a similar survival instinct to overeating in a situation where food procurement is unsure, intermittent, and scarce. Nonetheless, we have become “bio-slackers”—people who have neglected their biological nature to such an extent that we have become, in many ways, alien to our own bodies—starting with their need for movement.

  I call physical idleness movement poverty. Movement poverty leads to physical weakness, diminished health, and depression. Movement poverty is a self-inflicted condition no one can biologically afford.

  We are far away from the physical capability and day-to-day movement frequency and variety of our ancestors. Instead we see our bodies as hassles or even burdens that we try to ignore yet must put up with almost as if they are something separate from us. Movement has become one of those inconveniences that stems from having a body, and we try to avoid it as much as we possibly can. However, nearly complete and constant physical idleness is nothing but a biological anomaly, a behavioral void that is shrinking our physiological health to the point of slowly but surely deteriorating our bodies over time. There’s no need to be launched into space to spend time in a zero-gravity field to suffer loss of muscle mass and bone density; a physically idle lifestyle on Earth will do.

  There are possible adverse consequences of movement practice—although for the most part those adverse consequences are only minor and temporary—but the silent damaging of physical inertia over time is guaranteed. Such damage can be very hard to reverse—or even become completely irreversible—and often people have no idea what caused it. (Lack of movement isn’t the only reason, but it’s one of the main ones.)

  In a documentary I once watched, a hunter-gatherer from the Amazon visited the United States and was following his host to a supermarket. He was absolutely baffled when he saw that his host was trading a small piece of plastic—a credit card—in exchange for all this food. The hunter-gatherer was extremely perplexed when, after the transaction had been completed, the cashier gave the piece of plastic back to the host. How is it possible to procure food that you neither move and hunt for nor trade anything for?

  Originally, food procurement wasn’t possible without Natural Movement activity. Today, however, in just a few clicks and while using only our brains, eyes, and our index fingers, we can conveniently order a whole meal of our choice to be delivered to us at any time we want. Don’t get me wrong, such convenience does come at some cost and efforts, but it’s not the same as going out to move in nature for hours. If Natural Movement was mandatory for modern humans to procure food, physical health and vitality levels would rapidly skyrocket, but that imperative is gone.

  Although we laugh at a movie like WALL-E, in which humans of the future are unable to stand up and walk, we are not realizing that walking already has practically become an optional component of modern life. If walking is an option today, it might become nothing but a notion in the world of tomorrow—if not a memory of the past. (Someday we might hear someone say, “You’re telling me people had to MOVE with their body before? No way!”) A person who’s defined as being in “decent shape,” by modern civilized-world standards, might soon mean nothing more than that a person can achieve the extraordinary feat of standing up without technological assistance.

  When young people are growing up and observe everywhere around them mostly out-of-condition adults who perform clumsy, troublesome movements and have a reluctance to engage in physical effort, and when every day at school physical stillness is an obligation, and students who want to move are labeled “agitated” or “hyperactive,” then what happens? Those children will subconsciously accept the idea that an inept, out-of-condition, or even dysfunctional body is the body we are supposed to have, and they also will think that physical idleness is the default, normal physical behavior to have in life. Despite Natural Movement being a potent behavioral drive and need in children, a majority of us have been taught from a young age to repress, distrust, neglect, and sometimes even ridicule it. Hanging is for monkeys, crawling for crocodi
les, jumping for kangaroos—the movements are all some kind of strange animal behavior that we are supposed to outgrow so we can finally become “serious” about life and exercise one day. The truth is that—except for people born with limiting conditions—people aren’t born as “bad” movers, and they’re certainly not born as “non-movers.” You don’t even become a mover; you were born one.

  Those who do not move do not notice their chains.”

  —Rosa Luxemburg

  Alejandro Jodorowsky once wrote “Birds born in cages think that flying is an illness.” Why are people concerned about potentially harming their bodies by being physically active, yet they never seem to understand how much deterioration occurs in their bodies by being physically idle?

  Have you been led to believe that movement is an option, or even a chore? Motion is not a sickness; however, no motion is loco. Most of us are stuck in a self-imposed “movement coma,” which has also become one of the most common self-prejudices of modern times. Not having to be physically active is no longer a luxury that only wealthy people can financially afford. It is an impoverishment of life that no one—rich or poor—can biologically afford. Physical sedentariness is a biological anomaly, an artificial behavior, a culture-inflicted imprisonment, and a destructive habit. A deficit of movement is not just a deficit of health and strength in our lives; it’s a deficit of life in our lives. We have to literally move our way out of it.