Upbraided by a colleague the other day when he found me in a horribly unergonomic posture at my desk, hunched over my new iPad mini writing my editorial.
I’ve struggled with my posture all my life. I remember visiting an exotic European couple (exotic to us: we were from Palmerston North) who were friends of my mothers. I was 15 and the husband put his hands on my shoulders and tried to get me to put my shoulders back and stand up tall. I was horrified – embarrassed to be called out for slouching, of course, but also very unused to anyone touching me. My family are very English in that way.
I had found slouching a useful way of hiding as a child, and also constantly looking at the ground meant that I found more than my share of money and other lost valuables.
A couple of years later, I was in my first year at Uni, where I had joined the University of Canterbury Canoe Club. I’d done canoeing at school so wasn’t a novice, but it was my posture that led to the nickname “The Gnome”. For some reason that I can’t fathom, it didn’t bother me. I think I was just happy to be noticed.
