I used to work at a public relations firm where the leaders of each specialty (social media, crisis communications, etc.) had offices along the same hallway. You could open any door along this strip and find a communications pro able to pass along incredible insights in his or her area of expertise. For a mid-level practitioner like myself, this on-demand intellectual stimulation was like a library brought to life.
At the physical therapy rehab center I attended, I had the same experience, but for fitness.
For example, I would see a PT working with a woman who had ruptured her Achilles tendon. I had questions: Can you pre-hab your way to prevention of this kind of devastating injury? How long does recovery take? Surgery vs. no surgery?
Then there were the stories. My therapist once had a client who was an orthodox Jew with 10 kids. Although this guy had come to the clinic for help with his back, as soon as he lay down on the examining table, he would instantly fall asleep. My PT let this guy use his session for a nap several days a week, and it was probably the best therapy he could have received.
I’m pleased, however, that I was able to give back value to the rehab center. When I was working with one therapist on my deadlifting form, I showed him my trick to prevent the scraping of shins. You cut a plastic two-liter bottle in half, and slip the thin plastic shields under your socks as shin guards. That tip, plus my excitement for weights, deadlifts, and max effort, inspired my therapist. After our session he said, “Keva, I wasn’t going to work out today, but now I’m pumped and psyched.”
As in any endeavor, game recognizes game.