Hey there, fellow creakers, wobblers, and generally un-oiled machines! Welcome to ***Creaky Moves***, the blog where we explore the possibility that "joint mobility" isn't just a suggestion, but an achievable goal (no matter your age) – one snap, crackle, pop at a time.

I'm Monica, your average, everyday human who's currently engaged in a mostly friendly battle with my own joints.

Here are my sweet pups, Hudson and Freyja, looking like they just won the lottery. And these are my two favorite humans, Jeff and Magnus, radiating pure joy at the memory of conquering the Manitou Incline with me. (Spoiler alert: that's not joy you're seeing.)

Being an active person my entire life and with over 2 decades as a massage therapist, I figured my body and I were on pretty good terms. Turns out, my body had other plans, staging a silent (but increasingly creaky) protest about certain movements. Despite daily workouts and a job that keeps me perpetually on my feet, those youthful ninja moves had clearly packed their bags.

My shoulders and knees started whispering complaints, while my ankles and hips decided to throw a permanent "stiffness party." That's when I decided it was time for a hostile takeover of my own anatomy. My weapon of choice? Joint mobility.

**Enter Kinstretch**. My first impression of Kinstretch from watching the videos? I genuinely wondered if it was a form of elaborate performance art designed to induce boredom. It didn’t ***look*** like they were doing anything! So it went straight to the "Maybe Later, When I'm Desperate Enough to Watch Golf" section of my brain.

Then, in a moment of sheer brilliance (or maybe desperation), I actually listened to the instructions and did the movements. Cue the cartoon lightbulb! Suddenly, my body was like, "Oh HEY, we can't do that anymore!" It was way harder (and dare I say, even a little enjoyable in a "this is a delightful form of torture" kind of way) than it looked and definitely exposed more limitations than my 9-year-old’s palate.

Fast forward a few months and I was officially obsessed! The changes were (and still are) subtle (think going from a rusty door hinge to a slightly less rusty door hinge), but they were enough to convince me to become a Certified Kinstretch Coach, start an online joint mobility membership program and share the joy (and the muscle burn) with all of you!

Now, this isn't going to be your typical "perfectly-posed-influencer-doing-yoga-on-a-mountaintop" kind of movement blog. Nope. This isn't about showcasing superhuman flexibility + mobility (neither of which I possess).

I just want to shout from the rooftops (or at least type in bold letters) that anyone, at any stage of life, can begin to improve their joint mobility.

For many of us, our joints have been in semi-retirement for years. So, we celebrate the baby steps: the wince-free bend, the millimeter gained in a stretch, or the sheer triumph of getting up from the floor without assistance. Our mission? To gradually convince our bodies that movement doesn't have to equal misery, aiming for less ouch and more "whoa, I can reach that now!"

I'm on a personal journey to move better and feel better. And I'm inviting you to join me!

What to Expect:

Relatable struggles: I'll share my own (frustrating) experiences as I try to coax my joints into cooperating.
Honest advice: I know some things, but I'm not a doctor. I’m just a massage therapist and joint mobility coach here to share what I’ve learned (and continue to learn) in my journey. Always consult a doctor for serious issues.
Tips, tricks, and some Anatomy Nerd-outs : Expect practical tips, sneaky tricks to improve your movement/mobility, and just enough anatomy to make you sound smart at parties (or at least understand why your shoulder keeps making that noise).
A healthy dose of humor: Because if we can't laugh at our creaky knees, what can we laugh at?
Maybe some pictures of me looking slightly ridiculous while attempting exercises. (You've been warned!)

So, if you're tired of feeling like a rusty robot, if you believe that "mobility" shouldn't sound like a four-letter word, and if you're ready to embrace the glorious imperfections of the human body, you've come to the right place.

Let's get moving... or at least, let's try to.

(Disclaimer: Side effects of reading this blog may include increased self-awareness and a sudden urge to move more.)

Welcome to Creaky Moves: Where Silence is Overrated