Walking Through Back Pain: What My Latest Injury Taught Me

 

A few days ago, I tweaked my back trying to pull off a flashy weightlifting move I picked up from a Dagestani wrestler. I was training with one of my employees — who happens to be excellent at proper form — and she’d been giving me pointers all session. But during a break, I spotted a 45-pound plate and thought, “I’ve got to try that technique.” Instead of bracing properly and using what I know, I swung the weight around…and my back gave out.

At 60, this isn’t my first round with back problems. My history with back pain goes all the way back to the 1990s when I worked for a moving company. Years of heavy lifting led to my first real back injury. Later, I thought switching to desk jobs would help, but sitting all day only made things worse. The pain became so severe that surgery seemed like the only option.

Over the years, I’ve tried steroid injections, rest, and every pain-management method you can think of. But interestingly, once I found work that didn’t chain me to a desk, my back improved dramatically. That experience taught me something critical: our bodies aren’t designed to heal through avoidance — they heal through movement.

This latest injury reminded me of that lesson. I haven’t taken a single painkiller (though I did use Tiger Balm once). Instead, I’ve been walking, stretching, and staying as active as I can without pushing too far. I’ve scaled things back, but I haven’t stopped moving. Now, just a few days later, the pain is still there, but I can feel myself turning a corner.

The truth is, you can’t sidestep back pain — you have to walk through it. Too often, people rush into surgery or long-term treatments that may not be necessary. Our bodies are built to recover, as long as we give them the chance.

One story that inspires me is that of Willie Pep, the legendary boxer. After surviving a plane crash, he was back in the ring training within six months. Years later, doctors discovered he had actually fought with a broken back. His body healed because he demanded it to. That’s how the human body works — for millions of years, before modern medicine, survival depended on our ability to repair ourselves.

So that’s where I am today: moving through the pain, trusting the body’s design, and reminding myself that healing isn’t about babying an injury — it’s about giving your body the right conditions to do what it already knows how to do.

Walking every day and the unforgivable algorithm of the universe

I walk slowly through trails many days per week, mainly along the Rio Grande gorge, and in minimal shoes on rocky trails with my dog, who is very much a taskmaster and not one who likes to sit around the house much. She forces me to get outside, and I comply because I understand the algorithm of the universe.  Video of a typical walk

Every time I walk on these uneven, shifting surfaces, I toughen my feet and activate my toes to prepare better for impact with the ground, thereby lessening the impact on my knees. This helps heal my knees, even though the uneven surfaces are challenging on them, but I know how the unforgiving algorithm universe impacts my body. When you understand the algorithm, you slow down your descent into bodily decay. 

We are all on a descent into bodily decay, and that is the algorithm of the universe. However, the speed at which one descends is key. When you engage in something consistently, your body adapts and repairs itself to meet the demands placed on it. Living on the planet requires a physiological organism to meet the demands of life; your mitochondria multiply to increase energetic output and thus consume more glucose. Your heart rate meets the demands, increasing blood flow, and your bones also remodel to accommodate those demands.

Not only does this benefit my physical health, but it also mentally prepares me. While I'm walking, I'm thinking about what needs to be done, but what is essential? What should I give my time to now? 

Conversely, sitting on a couch or playing video games all day, your mind and body scale down since the demand is minimal. Since there's very little demand, your body is like an energetic accountant. It decides it doesn't need to rebuild muscles. It doesn't need to grow more mitochondria, so it won't. Thus, your body decays faster. I wish we didn't talk so much about metabolic health and just focus on activities, especially demanding ones. 

I mean, that's really it. It's not rocket science, and I think that sometimes, especially among health influencers, it gets turned into rocket science. It really isn't rocket science; it's just a simple concept. I know I'm the one using terms like 'allocation resources' and 'unforgiving algorithm,' but it boils down to putting yourself in demanding situations that are slightly uncomfortable often. It doesn't have to be so painful that you want to die, but the key is REPETITION. Repetition is not a once-a-week thing; it should be at least three times a week, four times a week, five times a week, week after week. It might seem overwhelming at first, but take it one day at a time, and your body will have your back, literally.