This extract is reproduced by kind permission of the author James Delingpole, the full article first appeared in The Spectator magazine.
“… The even better thing I wish to draw to your attention, though, is McTimoney. I shan’t go into the medical/technical details: just Google it. Suffice to say that it’s a form of chiropractic devised 50 years ago which involves manipulations so incredibly gentle that during your first treatment you might worry you’re being ripped off. Where are the clicks? Where are the crunches? Where’s the pain to show you it’s all working?
That’s certainly rather how I felt after my first session. I’d gone, pretty much as a last resort, to try to sort out the back trouble which has been plaguing me for years. I’ve done everything: sports physio, pilates, tai chi, acupuncture, message, osteopathy, orthotics…. The latter are these (bloody expensive) shaped insoles you have to wear in your shoe so as to support your arches and correct any gait and posture defects.
They do the job well enough but they’re a crutch, not a corrective. What this means is that you end up unable to live without them. If you play tennis you have to put them in your tennis shoes; when you go for a long walk you have to wear them in your walking shoes; when you pack for your holidays they’re one of those things you absolutely have to remember or else. It got to the stage where, if I didn’t wear my orthotics — or even if I went barefoot — for any length of time, I’d get knee pain and lower back agony.
Anyway, to cut a long story short, after a couple of McTimoney sessions my problems vanished — just like that. Apparently my hip had been so twisted that one side was about an inch and a half higher than the other. McTimoney had now corrected this, so I was free to throw away my orthotics and be normal again.
As a result my life has been transformed. For the past five or ten years I’ve had my shoe choices dictated not by what I might actually wish to wear, but by which kinds of shoe can comfortably accommodate a pair of orthotic inserts. This has meant, pretty much, trainers or nothing. But now I can wear leather lace-up shoes again. And loafers. And Birkenstocks. And, best of all, Chelsea boots.
God how I’ve longed to own a pair of Chelsea boots. But I honestly thought I’d never be able to. I’d resigned myself to spending the rest of my life as a semi-cripple, accepting my back trouble and those bloody orthotics and my limited footwear choices as just the kind of crap you have to get used to when you’re past a certain age. But I was wrong. There’s always hope. And as I’m sure my old mate David Hearsey would tell you — and he should know — never say die!”