Skip to main content

Practiced Hands: The 50-Year Warranty

What Doc Burch Taught Me About Staying Active.

We talk a lot about "life hacks" these days, but most of them don’t have a very long shelf life. Usually, they’re forgotten by the next app update.

But back in 1972, I received a piece of advice that came with a 50-year warranty. It’s the reason I’m still on my bike today, still chasing a golf ball around Carlsbad, and still—mostly—in one piece.

The Kick That Changed Everything

It started with a literal kick in the pants. A kid at school in Cuba, Illinois, was joking around and caught me just right. By the next morning, my lower back was screaming. My mom didn’t reach for the Tylenol; she reached for her car keys.

"Let’s go see Doc Burch," she said. "He’ll fix you right up."

Harry E. Burch, D.C., was a fixture in Lewistown. He’d graduated from Palmer College in ’59 and had been our family’s go-to for years. He was a man of practiced hands and steady eyes. After a quick exam and an X-ray, the mood in the room shifted.

"It’s not just a misalignment, Patrick," he told me. "You have Spondylolisthesis."

To a teenager, that sounded like a terminal diagnosis. Essentially, my lower vertebrae were playing fast and loose with my spinal cord. One bad trauma could mean paralysis.

The Fork in the Road

The specialists in Peoria confirmed it and offered the standard 1970s solution: a spinal fusion surgery. Back then, that was a massive, dangerous undertaking with a long, uncertain recovery.

Doc Burch offered a different path.

"Yes, it can be fixed with surgery," he said. "But if you follow a few simple guidelines, keep your weight down, and stay disciplined, I believe we can keep this under control for your entire lifetime."

I chose the discipline. And for over 50 years, I’ve carried his operating manual for my body in my back pocket.

The Burch Protocol (Circa 1972)

If you’re looking for "wisdom from experience," this is it. These four pillars have allowed me to lead a high-activity life without a single day of chronic back pain:

  • Build Your Own Brace: Strengthen your core, back, and stomach. If your muscles are strong, your spine doesn't have to do all the heavy lifting.

  • Motion is Lotion: Walk, swim, or cycle. (Doc was an early advocate for the bike!)

  • Avoid the Pavement Pound: He warned me off long-distance running decades before it became trendy. "It’s hard on the joints, Patrick. Find a smoother ride."

  • Stay in Balance: Don't wait for the "big pop." Adjust when things feel off.

A Legacy of Movement

I originally wrote this post in 2015, when Doc Burch retired after 55 years of service. He passed away in 2022, but I still hear his voice every morning when I’m stretching before a ride.

In our "Great Un-Working" years, we realize that our health isn't just about luck—it's about the quality of the advice we chose to follow years ago. Doc Burch didn't just save me from surgery; he gave me the next five decades of movement.

His dedicated service to Central Illinois was exemplary, but his impact on my life was immeasurable.

How about you? We all have that one person—a doctor, a teacher, a mentor—who gave us a "golden rule" we’re still following decades later. I’d love to hear about yours in the comments.

We've moved - On the Fly on Substack for my latest writing. 

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Resurrecting the '90s Graphite

Let’s face it, there’s a certain danger in reading John Gierach's Trout Bum . His wit, self-deprecation, and sharp, effortless satire are entirely infectious. If you aren't careful, his words will inspire you to drop everything, wade into a freezing river, and try to outsmart a creature with a brain the size of a lentil. In my case, re-reading Gierach recently didn't send me straight to the river. It sent me digging through the dusty, spider-guarded corners of my garage. In the early 1990s, seeking a natural escape from Manhattan's concrete canyons, I decided to learn to cast a fly rod. I bought an Orvis Rocky Mountain —eight-and-a-half feet, three ounces, built for a five-weight line—and had absolutely no idea how to use it. To avoid aimlessly whipping the water like scrambling eggs, I took fly-fishing lessons from Al Cucci, co-author of Hatches , on the Delaware River. With his guidance, I fished renowned waters: the AuSable in New York and Michigan, and New Jersey...

From Mailbox to Microphone

In this episode, catching up with Sierra . What happens when you combine a little imagination, modern digital tools, and the willingness to make a glorious, muddy mess? You get our guest’s latest project. I’m Patrick Ball. Welcome back to On the Fly . Today, we are diving into the world of native plants and guerrilla gardening with twelve-year-old creator Sierra. After watching her impressive, self-produced tutorial on how to make ‘Seed Balls,’ I had to know how she did it. It’s incredibly inspiring to watch Sierra evolve from a young artist wielding crayons and stationery into a savvy digital creator. She’s writing scripts, mastering voiceovers, and editing—all to make a positive, green impact on her local community. “She shoots, she scores, and she’s here to tell us all about it.” Please welcome Sierra to On the Fly ! Let’s get into it. Audio interview . . . For more blog posts showcasing Sierra’s talents, see: The Mailbox Surprise . . . and The Summer Surprise I’m Patrick Ball. Sta...

The AI Debate Was Settled in 1954

In this episode, what a 70-year-old sci-fi mystery teaches us. Welcome back to On the Fly. I’ve been looking for a clear way to explain how we should be handling Artificial Intelligence today. I finally found the answer hidden in a book I just finished. The twist? It was written more than seventy years ago. Isaac Asimov's The Caves of Steel was published in 1954, when a computer filled an entire room, consumed enough electricity to dim the neighborhood, and had roughly the computing power of today's microwave. Yet Asimov set his story nearly 3,000 years in the future—a world where humanity lives in sprawling enclosed cities (New York) and depends on advanced technology for nearly every aspect of daily life. The remarkable part isn't how much of the technology he imagined. It's how accurately he predicted us. In Asimov's future, society struggles with the introduction of highly sophisticated humanoid robots powered by "positronic brains." Naturally, a lou...

The Birth of a Cubs Legend

In this episode, The 162-Game Exhale — and the Birth of a Cubs Legend There’s a hush in the baseball world on Game 162 — a collective breath drawn in and slowly released. Scoreboards stop flipping. Dugouts empty. For six months, the game has been our steady heartbeat, pulsing from the cherry blossoms of Tokyo in March to the crisp, playoff-charged winds of late September. And now, as the regular season exhales, baseball fans everywhere pause to absorb the story we’ve just lived. For me, that story has been deeply personal. This season unfolded in the rhythms of my daily life. It was the summer soundtrack echoing beneath the constant turmoil of politics and sensational headlines. It was a handful of carefully chosen ballpark pilgrimages stitched together with countless nights in front of MLB.TV. And at the center of it all, for a lifelong Cubs fan like me, it revolved around one name — a young center fielder who turned hope into history: Pete Crow-Armstrong. The 2025 season didn’t begin...