Several days ago, as the older grands were outside enjoying early spring snow sledding, the younger grands decided they wanted to sled too. This involved Grandma pulling them around the house on a styrofoam sled while they yelled “Faster! Faster!”
At one point my son-in-law, who may not weigh 200 lbs., but can see it on the scale, decided he wanted a turn. He sat on the sled and looked at me expectantly as if he had no doubt a 130-pound grandmother could pull him across the floor. Not wanting to disappoint, I started to pull. It wasn’t very far before sanity and visions of a lifetime in traction took control and I dropped the rope.
Having watched too many people struggle with back pain and undergo surgeries, it is always in the back of my mind not to do anything stupid and hurt my back. I was sure the morning after the sledding party I would be in pain and unable to get out of bed. Nope. I monitored myself for any sign of a twinge or strain. Nothing.
Today, cleaning day, I donned the garb of a Domestic Goddess, sweatpants and a worn-out turtleneck, and started mopping. Oddly, it felt like one leg was shorter than the other. The obvious physics story problem started forming in my head:
If a 130-pound woman pulls a 200-pound man on a styrofoam sled across a carpet of medium pile height, how far does she need to pull him before the torque skews her back enough to make one leg shorter than the other?
As I was contemplating the complexities of that problem, I started sorting the ever-growing pile of shoes by the front door. Soon I noticed that one pair wasn’t a pair. Both size 6 and brown leather, but not a matched set. I looked down at my feet. Sure enough, same mismatched set on my feet….one with a heel.
I may have strained a muscle in my brain, but my back is strong. Life is good.
