Handstand. I’m new to it—earnestly, painfully new—but I’ve had the handstand on my mind for a few years. Though I was building strength during that time, I wasn’t actively working on handstand skills or foundations. That changed a couple of months ago, and I can now say—with a self-congratulatory air—that “I’m working on my handstand.”

What changed so that I deliberately started training the handstand? The promise of the handstand for me, right now, is a goal-oriented challenge with an acceptable amount of risk. I’m recovering, slowly, from repeat back injuries, and my spine doesn’t like to be loaded or in too much flexion. These injuries take a long time to heal, and having had this experience I’ve decided to pursue fitness and physical skills in ways that are less likely to set me back for years at a time should I be injured in the course of practice. 

Certainly there are activities less likely than hand-balancing to contribute to injury, but I can mitigate the risk with slow practice. The handstand offers me the opportunity for disciplined training and the reward of consistent, incremental progress. It also allows me to focus on the foundational requirements without throwing my body into a position before it is ready. I can slowly expose my spine to more flexion, my wrists to more extension, my shoulders to more load in a deliberate, calculated way, and I can turn the dial down—go even slower—to reduce exposure if need be.

So far, I’ve had success with a weekly foundational practice. I’ve been working on wrist and shoulder mobility, holding a stacked body position, and getting comfortable with my weight on my hands and my hips above my head. All of which is doable with my healing back. I’m getting a taste of what it will feel like to be fully upside down and balancing, and I can see that the skill I really need to master is patience. Like healing from injury, learning the handstand will take time. 

I’ve been working through a training program at my own pace, which is significantly slower than scheduled. I’m ignoring the recommended weekly advancement in favour of listening to my body as I decide whether to try the next progression, hold a position for longer, or do more repetitions. I’m always excited to take the next step, but I’ve learned that it’s much more important to be ready for the next step, and that means tempering the excitement into a steady, sustainable interest that is more likely to allow for good decisions.

So I’m taking it slow, owning each progression, and grateful to have begun.