An astronaut was rocketed into space. He was twenty years old. He stayed there for ten years. His shuttle is now re-entering Earth’s atmosphere. Before he began orbiting the Earth, he was a typical human being. He could run, jump, throw, and move marvelously through Earthly space-time. But now? He’s being carted off the space shuttle in a wheel [...]
An astronaut was rocketed into space. He was twenty years old. He stayed there for ten years. His shuttle is now re-entering Earth’s atmosphere.
Before he began orbiting the Earth, he was a typical human being. He could run, jump, throw, and move marvelously through Earthly space-time.
But now?
He’s being carted off the space shuttle in a wheel chair.
His twenty-year old marvelous moving self has fizzled. He’s now Gertrude incarnate…and he’s only thirty years old.
You were twenty years old when the astronaut went into space. But you stayed on Earth for the past ten years. You’re thirty now, too.
You don’t need no stinkin’ wheelchair.
What’s the deal?
- Human, in space, ten years, can’t move.
- Human, on Earth, ten years, can move.
When you don’t overcome gravity, you lose the ability to overcome gravity. So you, as a human being living on Earth, can overcome gravity precisely because you are a human being living on Earth forced to regularly overcoming gravity.
I’ll let that sentence sink in for a moment…
Gertrude. Gertrude has no reason to move. She gets her meals delivered to her bedside. She has become a slug. Slowly oozing across her bed to find the remote is the extent of her physical activity.
She stopped sifting through Earthly space-time…just like the astronaut.
Your body is reading the matrix of the environment. Epigenetics 101.
Cutting through Earth’s space-time sends a love note to your body:
Dear Self,
There is this thing called gravity. It’s kind of rough on me. I’m out here moving around and it’s throwing me against the ground.
So here’s the deal…
As long as I’m out here being an idiot (jumping, running, frolicking, humping my neighbor in secrecy), I need you to keep my bones sturdy. I need you to keep my muscles up to snuff. I need you to keep my joints greased.
I’m sure you get the idea.
Thanks.
xoxo,
(other) Self
And then your body reads the note and makes choices based on best biological fitness interests.
(Consider: there’s more than one factor influencing the decision making process. You can tell your body it needs strong bones, muscles, and all that jazz, and your body might fully agree…but if you aren’t giving your body the materials to support the maintenance and upgrades, well…)
Gertrude isn’t sending the love note. She’s not powering through the fabric of Earthly space-time.
One pretty reliable constant within the ether of biological fitness: don’t be wasteful.
Bones are stronger than steel. It takes a lot of energy to keep those guys strong. Same goes for muscle. Same goes for…
If you don’t NEED strong bones, then, by golly, you won’t have very strong bones. Why would your body waste precious resources on steel strong bones when it can survive just fine with wimpy waffle bones?
It’s like paying a mortgage a beach house…that you NEVER use.
It’s stupid.
Now, some humans pay the mortgage on unused properties…because us humans have some stupid quirks. Luckily our body, System 1, is a little more rational.
Consider all the situations where your body no longer overcomes gravity. Imagine living in space. Or imagine lying in bed. Or keeping your forearm in a cast.
What happens?
You lose strength. You lose muscle mass. You lose bone density.
Your body recreates itself to match the demand of use…within reason.
(And you thought milk made bones stronger. Shame on you.)
Now, I know what you’re thinking…
If the human body is so smart, why doesn’t it just keep building stronger bones and bigger muscles over time? Why aren’t humans turning Super Saiyan after walking around the high school track?
Isn’t that “sifting through gravity” Mr. McSmart Pants?
Good question.
Here’s the answer:
The adaptations you’re able to gain within the confines of gravity are bottle necked.
And, to understand why, you have do some homework: revisit antifragility.
Your homework will pay off next letter.