A short session a day, every day, for six years. One person's practice. The limits named.

What this is. A short session a day, every day, of slow, deliberate work on the soft tissue of the body — the fascia, the muscles, the joints. Not a yoga class. Not a programme. A practice. A foam roller in the morning. A tennis ball against the wall in the late afternoon for the back of the shoulders. Hands, sometimes — fingers down the side of the spine, slowly, finding the held places. Self-massage of the calves and the soles of the feet. Slow neck rolls. The breath, deepening, while the work happens. A short session. Daily. For six years.

Why this is on the page at all. Because over six years it has done more for the body than any single intervention other than the abstinence itself. The shoulders that drinking pulled forward. The hips that drinking stiffened. The jaw that drinking clenched. The diaphragm that drinking shortened. The lower back that drinking dehydrated. All of it slowly let go, in small pieces, on the floor of a Tenerife flat, a few minutes at a time. The change is not visible to other people. It is unmistakable from inside the body.

What this is not. It is not a protocol. It is not the James Method. It is not the James Protocol. It is not a course, an app, a programme, or a thing the desk sells. There is nothing to buy. The foam roller cost very little and lasts a decade. The tennis ball costs less. The hands are free. The desk's refusal to brand this is deliberate; the moment a daily practice becomes a Method it stops being a practice and becomes a product, and the cost of that one yes is permanent.

What the science says, plainly. Connective tissue — fascia — is more plastic than was understood until recently, and slow, sustained pressure on it does measurable things to its hydration, its glide, and its mobility. The clinical evidence base is real but partial; the practice runs ahead of the literature. A practising physiotherapist or a sports-medicine doctor is the person to ask whether this kind of work is right for your particular body. Conditions that change the answer include: any acute injury, any recent surgery, any blood-thinning medication, any vascular condition, certain skin conditions, certain rheumatological conditions, osteoporosis or low bone density (because sustained pressure on the wrong tissue is a different proposition for a thinner bone), peripheral neuropathy (which is common in long-term drinkers and which changes the body's pressure-sensing in ways that matter for self-applied work), pregnancy, and the period immediately after a procedure. If any of these apply, ask before you start. The bot will say so plainly.

What the page will not do. It will not say do this daily and promise you will feel the way I do. It will say: this is one person's practice. The body is yours. The practice that fits your body is yours to find. A physiotherapist who knows your body is the partner for this, not the desk.

The SI (super intelligence) guide will walk you through the questions to ask a physiotherapist before you start.

Sun, breath, movement

The three things the body needs daily that nobody charges for.

Sun. Time in it daily, when it is available. Skin and eyes both. Not midday in summer; morning ideally, evening if not. Vitamin D status matters more than most people realise. The deficiency is common in northern Europe generally and in people who drank for years specifically, because chronic alcohol interferes with vitamin D metabolism in the liver. Test it. Supplement if your level is low and your clinician agrees. Sunlight first; supplement only as the gap-filler. The sunlight does things a tablet cannot — it sets the circadian clock, it lifts mood through pathways the tablet does not touch, and it costs nothing.

Breath. A short spell of slow nasal breathing each day, deliberately. Four seconds in, six seconds out, through the nose. The diaphragm — which years of drinking shortened — wakes up. The nervous system steadies. Heart-rate variability improves over weeks. The cost is zero. The benefit is cumulative. Sit in a chair, eyes open or closed, hand on the belly to feel it move. That is the practice. There is no app required. The SI guide will walk you through the longer version if you want it.

Movement. Walking is the most under-rated treatment in alcohol recovery. A floor I do not drop below on any day, and a target well above it. Walking outside if available, walking inside if not. A run is a run. A swim is a swim. Both help. Walking helps most reliably, costs least, and is most sustainable across years — and across the post-alcohol body, which is often deconditioned, sometimes injured from years of drinking, and rarely served well by a sudden return to the gym in week six. Build slowly. The body will tell you when it is ready for more.

None of these three is on the discharge letter. All three matter for the next forty years.