Mullis: The bewildering benefits of walking backward

I was at my niece's first birthday party when my father approached me with some advice.

"When you walk the dog, try walking backward. It stretches the opposite muscles, which really helps your lower back."

I grinned.

My father walks his dog through the cemetery by his house and the visual of him strolling backward through the tombstones made me chuckle.

Although I appreciated his concern for my lower back, I walk my dog through my neighborhood. Living people tend to notice lunacy.

Twice more, my father came up to me, repeating this advice, the last time in front of my mother, who was mortified.

"You don't really do that."

He does.

"Trust me. It really helps the back."

The next morning, I got up with my usual back stiffness. My dog didn't care. As soon as I had not-my-pajamas on, he was stalking me, dropping his ball at my feet. I did some writing and then got the leash.

The neighborhood was mid-morning quiet. I couldn't help thinking about my father's advice. I knew the route well and the road was smooth because of a recent repaving. I could walk backward for just a few steps.

I turned around.

The dog stopped, turned and stared at me. I took a few awkward steps backward. The dog sat, judging my sanity. My dad was right. I could feel my lower back muscles stretch, but I felt ridiculous and turned back around.

The dog rejoined me.

A half block later, I decided to try again. This time the dog walked cautiously beside me like he was protecting a toddler. And I was walking like a toddler until I got the gait right – toe-heel, toe-heel, instead of heel-toe, heel-toe.

I heard the sharp whine of a garage door opening. I looked left and saw a neighbor staring at me. Blood rushed to my face. I gave a little wave, turned around, and walked faster.

When we were out of sight, I tried again. The dog had given up protecting me and meandered in the grass, hunting for sticks.

Gradually, I started to look up instead of down, watching the world as I walked away. It felt mystical until I saw a car slow down at the corner I had just passed. It lingered at the stop as if witnessing an accident.

The car beeped. I waved.

I walked forward until reaching the quietest part of the neighborhood. There, I tried again.

When I got home my back didn't feel so tight and I didn't feel so uptight. It could be stretching opposite muscles or could be stretching the standards of normal.

I've continued to walk backward – just a little – ever since. It helps my back, but mostly it helps my sense of humor.

Besides, somewhere among the tombstones, my dad is doing the same.

Nicole L.V. Mullis is the author of “A Teacher Named Faith.” You can reach her at nlvm.columns@gmail.com or www.NicoleLVMullis.com.