The year was 2000. I kept my bodywork schedule in a paper calendar and took my calls for appointments over a Nokia flip phone. I was living on the top floor of a charming bungalow on a hill near the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder, Colorado.
My lifestyle was quite active: trail running up Mount Sanitas; lifting weights at Rally Sport; and skiing at Eldora. Even though I was just 26, my body was beginning to talk back when I pushed it too far. And for the first time, concepts like “low back pain” and “sciatica” weren’t abstract ideas that I read about in Travell’s Myofascial Pain and Dysfunction and treated, but discomforts which I was beginning to uncomfortably embody.