‘Wobble Board’ (Photo by Pierre.hamelin, CC BY-SA 4.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0>, via Wikimedia Commons)

Dear Readers, any of you who have been following the blog for a while know that I have a habit of falling over. Sometimes I write about it – here and here and here and indeed here. Usually it’s just a bit of bruising or a sprain, but this time I really did it properly, as we know. And so, I was very interested when one of my readers used a word that I’d heard, but didn’t really understand – proprioception. The term comes from the Latin word ‘proprius‘, meaning ‘one’s own’ and capere, meaning ‘to grasp’ – taken together, proprioception means ‘to grasp one’s own position in space’.

Proprioception is a complicated system, involving sensory neurons that can ‘read’ the speed and pressure on individual parts of a muscle, and which can also detect the degree of movement of a joint. These neurons help to control movement in a myriad different ways. I’m touch typing at the moment, and this is an example of how the neurons activate muscles without me having to use my eyes to see which key I’m pressing. Walking, voice modulation, and all the complicated things that we do with our bodies are governed by the proprioception process, and for the most part it carries on unconsciously. Indeed, sometimes it helps if we don’t think about it, as when we run downstairs or vault athletically over a five-barred gate (well, if you vault athletically over a five-barred gate, my vaulting days being largely over). We can see proprioception at work when we’re running or walking over rough terrain, or steadying ourself on a boat at sea – our muscles, eyes and inner ear all work together to keep us upright and stable. Or at least, they normally do.

Interestingly, in my case at least, there is a link between joint hypermobility and poor proprioception. I have always been extremely flexible, and I am wondering now if the price of this has been my dodgy feeling for where my body is in space. Some conditions, such as MS and Parkinson’s disease, can cause falls, and once I’m off my crutches (hopefully in about three weeks) I will talk to my GP, but regardless of the outcome, I’m pleased that there are various things that I can do myself to improve the situation, once my leg is better.

• I’ll talk to my pilates teacher and get some more balance exercises into my regular routine (hopefully some that I can also do at home). There are some very simple ones, like walking heel to toe, standing on one leg and balancing on a ‘wobble board’ like the one in the photo above ( which in French is called a ‘Plateau de proprioception’ which sounds rather more romantic I think). I’ve been doing pilates for nearly fifteen years, and the osteopathy team at the Whittington were quite impressed by my core strength, so maybe it’s just time to slightly change the emphasis.
• I shall find a beginners tai chi course, and go along with my other half – I think the combination of slow, mindful movement and gentle exercise could be just the ticket to help me recover from my fracture once I’m allowed.
• I shall keep up with my physiotherapy, and shall actually ask the physio if there are any additional exercises I can do to improve balance.

In this recent article in The Guardian, it was suggested that parkour could be a good way of improving proprioception, though this seems a leap too far at the moment. Worth thinking about for any of you young folk out there though! I used to be full of admiration when I saw people doing parkour on the South Bank, leaping over railings and somersaulting between buildings. There’s something rather appealing about using the built space that surrounds us as a kind of outdoor gym.

Anyhow, I am taking this fall, pain in the butt (or rather the tibia) that it is, as an opportunity and possibly a warning. If you’re going to get a spiral fracture of the tibia, better that it happens less than a mile from home, when you’re in your sixties, and when you can manage at home than in any other circumstance. I need to see what I can do to improve my balance, to be more aware of what my body is doing and where it is in space, and maybe to be less distracted when I’m out and about – there is a touch of Ronald Searle’s Fotherington Thomas about the way that I react to nature. I once got a serious sprain when attempting to cross the road to look at a plant. Go figure.

Any tips, Readers? I know I’m not the only one who has crashed to earth accidentally, though I have rather more experience of it than most I suspect. All advice gratefully received!

Fortherington-Thomas – ‘Hello Clouds!”