The first time Margaret noticed it, she was standing at her kitchen counter, slicing an apple. The knife was steady in her hand, the cutting board firm beneath her fingers. And yet, without warning, her body wobbled—just a quick, unsettling sway, like a tree in a sudden gust of wind. She caught herself by grabbing the edge of the counter, heart hammering a little harder than the moment probably deserved. She was 72, steady on her feet, or so she’d thought. But lately, the ground felt just a bit less reliable, the floor a fraction farther away. She wrote it off as “getting older” and moved on. Still, that small slip lingered in her mind.
The Quiet Architecture Beneath Your Skin
Most of us think of our feet, if we think of them at all, as simple tools—a means of getting from the bed to the kettle, from the car to the garden. We notice them when they ache, when a bunion flares up, when shoes rub us sore. But hidden inside each step is an intricate architecture, a system of levers, pulleys, and soft tissues working in quiet coordination.
In that architecture, the toes have long been bit players in the story we tell about balance. Ankles and knees get the attention—so do hips and core muscles. Doctors talk about bone density, muscle loss, blood pressure. But the toes—especially the big toe and the less glamorous, often overlooked lesser toes—have more to do with your stability than you might imagine.
If you’re over 65, there’s one particular structure that may be quietly changing your balance without you realizing it: the flexor tendons and tiny muscles that curl and spread your toes. You can’t see them, but you feel them every time you push off the ground—when you step off a curb, climb stairs, or pivot to answer the door. They are the last contact with the earth before your body moves forward—your final line of communication with gravity.
The Forgotten Engine of the Foot: Your Toe Flexors
Press your bare foot gently into the floor right now, if you can. Feel the ball of your foot make contact, then your toes. Now, slowly try to grip the floor with your toes—like you’re gently trying to pick up a thin cloth. That subtle scrunching sensation under your skin? That’s your toe flexors waking up.
Your toe flexors are a group of muscles and tendons that help curl your toes down toward the floor. They live partly in your foot and partly in your lower leg, threading their way through arch and joints like quiet cables. When you walk, they help you push off with strength and control. When you stand still, they act like little anchors, making continuous micro-adjustments that keep you from tipping forward or back.
As we age, especially past 65, these muscles can weaken. Sometimes it happens because we walk less, or because we’ve spent years in stiff shoes that don’t let toes move freely. Sometimes it’s because of nerve changes, arthritis, diabetes, or simply the slow, inevitable shift of time in our tissues. The result is subtle at first: a slightly shorter stride, a softer push-off, a vague sense that the floor feels “less sure.” But underneath that sensation is a quiet loss of toe strength and control.
Researchers studying older adults have found that toe flexor strength is closely linked to balance and the risk of falling. People with weaker toes are more likely to stumble, trip, or feel unstable. It’s not just about the big toe, either; the smaller toes help keep you from rolling to one side, especially when the ground is uneven or you move quickly.
Why This Matters More After 65
After 65, the relationship between your body and the ground becomes more fragile. Bones thin. Reflexes slow. Vision changes. A fall that might have meant just a bruise in your forties can turn into a hospital stay in your seventies. That’s why every small contributor to stability suddenly becomes important—and your toes, humble as they are, sit right at the center of that picture.
Feet on the Forest Path: How Toes Talk to the Brain
Imagine walking along a wooded trail. The earth is uneven—soft here, firm there, scattered with stones hidden beneath leaves. Each time your foot lands, thousands of signals shoot from the nerves in your toes and the sole of your foot up to your brain. “Rock on the left.” “Dip in the soil.” “Root sticking up.”
Your brain replies almost instantly by adjusting muscle tension—tightening in your ankle, shifting weight to the outside edge of your foot, lifting your toes a little higher for the next step. This constant dialogue keeps you upright. It is both unconscious and exquisitely tuned.
But what happens when the toes become weaker, stiffer, or less sensitive? That rich conversation with the ground grows quieter. Steps become more cautious, shuffling, guarded. You may start watching your feet more. You avoid certain paths, certain floors, certain stairs. You cling to railings not only for support but for certainty.
Toe flexors, especially, are vital in that dialogue. They grip and release, fine-tuning every push-off, stabilizing each landing. If they’ve lost strength or coordination, it’s like trying to hold onto a railing with numb fingers—your body can still do it, but not with the same confidence.
The Calm Before the Stumble
Most people don’t notice this gradual weakening until something calls attention to it: a near-fall in the grocery aisle, a wobble in the shower, a misstep on a curb. Often, the feet have been changing for years—arches flattening, toes drifting, calluses forming under pressure points—all quiet signs that the load is not being spread the way it once was.
That’s why paying attention to this overlooked part of the foot is not vanity or fussiness. It’s preparation. It’s a form of self-respect. It’s an invitation to reintroduce yourself to the ground you walk on every day.
Waking Up the Toes: Simple Practices You Can Feel
You don’t need a gym, special equipment, or fancy shoes to begin strengthening your toe flexors. In fact, some of the most powerful work happens barefoot, in your own living room, while the kettle is boiling or the radio is humming softly in the background.
1. The Towel Gather
Place a small towel flat on the floor. Sit in a chair with your feet bare, heels on the towel edge. Use your toes to scrunch and pull the towel toward you, one tiny grab at a time. Release, spread the towel out, and repeat. You’ll feel the underside of your foot come alive—the arch, the ball, the tiny pumping of effort in every toe.
2. Marble or Pebble Pick-Up
Scatter a handful of marbles, small stones, or even crumpled bits of paper on the ground. Using your toes, pick each one up and drop it into a bowl. This builds dexterity as well as strength, teaching your toes to grip and release with intent instead of simply being dragged along for the ride.
3. Gentle Toe Lifts and Spreads
While sitting or standing, try lifting just your toes off the ground while keeping the ball of your foot down. Then, try spreading your toes apart, like a fan. You may be surprised by how difficult this feels at first. Over time, these small movements rekindle your mind’s connection to your feet.
4. Barefoot Moments on Safe Surfaces
Spend a few minutes each day barefoot on safe, clean, non-slippery surfaces—like a rug, yoga mat, or grassy yard. Feel the contours of the ground, the way your toes adapt and respond. Let them explore. This not only encourages strength, but also wakes up the sensory nerves that help guide every step.
Here’s a simple way to see how these practices can fit into your routine:
| Practice | How Often | What You’ll Notice |
|---|---|---|
| Towel Gather | 3–4 times per week, 2–3 minutes | Mild fatigue under the arch, stronger push-off when walking |
| Marble/Pebble Pick-Up | 2–3 times per week, 2–3 rounds | Better toe control, more awareness of where your foot lands |
| Toe Lifts and Spreads | Daily, 1–2 minutes | Improved coordination, less “sloppy” stepping |
| Barefoot Moments | Daily, 3–5 minutes | Richer sensation in the soles, more grounded feeling |
The Role of Shoes, Surfaces, and Small Choices
Strengthening your toes is only one side of the story. The surfaces and shoes you live in can either support this quiet work or slowly undo it.
Many older adults spend most of their day in supportive shoes or slippers. Support can be helpful, especially if you have arthritis, foot deformities, or pain. But overly stiff or narrow shoes can limit how much your toes actually move. Imagine trying to strengthen your hands while wearing tight mittens—that’s what it’s like for your toes in cramped footwear.
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If it’s safe for you and your health provider agrees, consider alternating between supportive shoes and ones that allow more toe room and flexibility. Look for a wide toe box where your toes can lie flat and spread. Inside the house, choose non-slip socks or soft, flexible shoes that let your toes participate in every step.
Surfaces matter, too. Hard, unyielding floors—like tile or concrete—can be tiring for older feet, especially if your padding has thinned over the years. Placing cushioned mats in places where you stand often (by the sink, stove, or bathroom) can invite your toes to work without punishment. Outdoors, a stroll on grass or packed earth lets the sole of your foot feel more variety under each step, giving those toe flexors a gentle, natural workout.
When Pain or Problems Speak Up
If you feel pain in your toes or the ball of your foot when you try these exercises, it’s your body asking for attention, not a command to stop moving altogether. Conditions like hammertoes, bunions, neuropathy, and arthritis are common after 65 and can change the way your toes function.
Instead of pushing through sharp or persistent pain, consider it a cue to talk with a podiatrist or physical therapist. They can suggest specific variations—smaller movements, different positions, or supportive taping—that let you gradually build strength without aggravating sensitive joints.
Reclaiming Confidence, One Quiet Step at a Time
Margaret, the woman in the kitchen, eventually mentioned her wobbles to her doctor. She half-expected a shrug. Instead, her doctor nodded thoughtfully and suggested a balance assessment. There, in a bright, echoing room, a therapist asked her to stand with her feet close together, to close her eyes, to turn her head as she stepped forward and back. When she swayed, gentle hands hovered near her elbows—never quite catching her, but always ready.
Then came something unexpected: a short session focused on her toes. Picking up small objects. Spreading and lifting. Scrunching a towel. It felt almost childish, like a game. But in the weeks that followed, as she practiced at home, she noticed something shift. That slight dread she felt getting out of bed in the morning—would her legs feel solid today?—began to fade. The ground seemed to “meet” her feet again. Not perfectly, not as it did in her thirties, but enough that she relaxed into her own stride.
This is the quiet promise hidden in the overlooked part of your foot: that by paying attention to what’s happening at the very edge of your body, you can influence everything above it. Your posture, your confidence, your willingness to walk a little farther, to venture onto that garden path, to stand at the sink and slice an apple without bracing yourself on the counter.
Over 65, aging can feel like a series of small surrenders. But your toes—those humble, often ignored ten travelers—offer a different kind of story, one of small reclaimings. A few minutes a day, a handful of gentle exercises, a bit of kinder footwear, and suddenly gravity feels less like an enemy and more like an old, familiar companion.
The earth hasn’t moved. But you have. Steadier, more rooted, more awake to the quiet strength living at the very edge of every step.
Frequently Asked Questions
Are toe exercises really necessary if I already walk every day?
Walking is excellent, but it doesn’t always challenge the toe flexors enough—especially if you wear very supportive or stiff shoes. Targeted toe work adds strength and control in a way normal walking often doesn’t, particularly for the small muscles that help prevent stumbles.
How long does it take to notice a difference in balance?
Many people report feeling more “connected” to the ground within 3–4 weeks of consistent toe and foot exercises. Larger improvements in balance and confidence often appear after 8–12 weeks, especially when combined with general strength and balance training.
Is it safe to do these exercises if I have arthritis in my feet?
Gentle, pain-free movement is usually helpful for arthritis, but it’s important not to push into sharp or lingering pain. Start with very small ranges of motion and shorter sessions. If pain increases or doesn’t settle, consult a podiatrist or physical therapist before continuing.
What if I can’t spread or lift my toes very well?
Limited movement is common, especially if your toes have been in tight shoes for years or if there are structural changes. Do what you can without forcing. Even imagining the movement while making a small effort can gradually improve your brain’s connection to those muscles.
Do I need special shoes to help my toe flexors?
You don’t need special shoes, but footwear that offers enough room for your toes to lie flat and move is very helpful. Look for a wide toe box and some flexibility in the sole. At home, alternating between supportive shoes and barefoot time on safe, non-slip surfaces can gently encourage toe strength and activity.
