Author: Cheryl

Gymnastics with numbers….and thanking a teacher.

    I love math. It’s so simple and so logical. I also have passion for movement.  Math is movement. It’s gymnastics with numbers. Isn’t that a fun way to look at it?     I didn’t always feel this way. When I was young, I didn’t do very well in math. I used to feel incredibly stupid, clumsy and frustrated. Everyone else seemed to understand and catch on so easily, where I always struggled. It did not help that I was told I had no aptitude for math, or even worse, that I just didn’t apply myself or work hard enough. Ouch.     I remember being in Algebra class when I was in high school. I was trying to follow along with the new material my teacher was presenting, but I was lost. Utterly, completely and hopelessly lost. Finally, I raised my hand and said,...

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Habits, constraints, and neuroplasticity….let the learning begin!

In my martial arts class, we often practice something called “randori”. One student stands in the center of the room while the other students form a circle around them and take turns randomly attacking the person in the middle. It’s kind of like the Ninja version of monkey in the middle. And it scares me to death. It is my least favorite training activity, but my incomparable stubborness won’t let me opt out. And besides, the guys would make fun of me if I refused to play with them. Last week, after we completed our randori, just as I heaved a sigh of relief, Sensei said, “We’re going again.” He looked at me and said, “And you are not allowed to do the same techniques. I want you to find new ways to react to each attack.” My response...

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If a tree falls in the forest…..

      Several weeks ago a powerful storm swept through Rocky Mountain National Park. Two weeks later, we went hiking in the area, and we came across a devastating scene of absolute chaos and destruction. Hundreds of huge pine trees littered the ground, crisscrossing over each other, their broken limbs strewn everywhere. Most of the trees were literally ripped from the ground by their roots. Some trees that may have survived the storm that swept through the forest were split in two by the crashing force of the other trees that succumbed to the gale force wind.    What once was a beautiful forest of tall, majestic trees was now an eerie field of debris and destruction. Along with the broken branches, uprooted trees, exposed roots and huge craters in the ground, I saw several deadly nature...

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Charlie Brown’s Christmas….the sequel.

    I have a Charlie Brown Christmas Tree. So do all four of my sisters. Yes, I have four sisters, no brothers. Which always amazes me that my Dad did manage to live as long as he did. It also explains a little bit of his hearing loss. We used to think it was from the constant noise of the years spent working in the steel mills. Knowing what I know now about the nervous system and habituation, I believe it was from the constant high pitched squeals and shrieks that resulted from living with 6 women.     Anyway, last Christmas was an unhappy one for me and my sisters. Our Dad died on Thanksgiving weekend, just less than three short weeks after we lost our Mom. The five of us were together again, preparing to say another final farewell. There we were, surrounded by all of the lights, decorations,...

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A Charlie Brown Christmas

    Don’t you just love the story about Charlie Brown’s Christmas? Poor Charlie Brown. He starts out so sad and depressed by the thought of the upcoming holiday. It seems his depression was exacerbated by the enthusiasm displayed by his little friends who were eagerly anticipating Christmas. He was so disheartened he even sought help from the local psychiatrist. Why he trusted her with his fragile emotional state is a puzzle to me, since there was already some history between them. She never missed an opportunity to knock him down and call him a Blockhead. True to form, her advice appeared to be the psychological equivalent of smacking him upside the head and still charging him 5 cents for her services. Sheesh. That doesn’t seem right.     Everywhere Charlie Brown turned,...

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It turned out to be a pretty good day….in spite of myself.

I started out my weekend in pretty low spirits. When I woke up Saturday morning, I couldn’t shake off the bad mood I was experiencing. It didn’t help that my very sweet little geriatric Italian Greyhound had crawled into bed with us the night before and had become incontinent sometime during the night. Sheesh. I felt the weight of the world coming down upon me. I also felt like the entire world’s population was looking to do the same thing to me during the day that my little dog did the night before. I jumped out of bed, sprinted through the kitchen past the fresh brewed coffee that my husband had just made and directly to the laundry room. I washed the sheets, cleaned the mattress and cleaned my little dog. The nice thing about an Italian Greyhound is that they rarely require...

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And the journey continues….

It takes a tremendous amount of courage for a woman to walk into a testosterone infested  Dojo and begin training. It also takes an enormous amount of trust. I had neither. I was scared to death for the first two years. However, the guys were incredibly tolerant, gentle and patient with me. Most of the time I was the only woman in class, and they dutifully took turns working with me. I thought that was awfully magnanimous of them. I soon discovered that it was because I was prettier and smelled better than any of the guys, even on my worst day. They had plenty of opportunities to work with each other, and they seemed to enjoy tossing me around for a change. Even though I was enjoying the classes, I was still incredibly intimidated. I was a good student, not because I was interested in going...

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That’s how the journey began….

Eight years ago I began my training as a martial artist. Full disclosure; I did it on a dare. I honestly thought I would take a few classes and then quit. After a month or two, I realized how much I enjoyed the classes. However, I wasn’t going to continue training. I had proved a point, and now I could quit at any time with my dignity intact. I didn’t know why, or how it happened, but I just kept showing up. As intimidated and terrified as I was, at least twice a week I found myself in the Dojo, wondering what I was doing there. I knew I wasn’t going to stick with it, and I surely wasn’t ever going to test. I could certainly remain a white belt since I would be quitting soon, anyway. After three months of training, one of the guys badgered me into testing for my yellow...

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What I learned on my Thanksgiving vacation.

    My three day Thanksgiving vacation was rich with learning experiences. I discovered how restful, restorative and rejuvenating three days can be, if you just let go of expectations. I found out how much fun winter hiking is, as long as you dress appropriately. I realized that it really is possible to cook a full Thanksgiving dinner in an unfamiliar kitchen, no matter how small it is.         Life is full of opportunities to learn. All we have to do is let go of expectations, dress appropriately, and get a little adventurous!  Be healthy!Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

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