Ink Tea Stone Leaf

It is a disturbing fact that, in this fourth decade of my life, I can no longer count on my body to look after itself. I must devote a portion of my day to making sure that I have moved a sufficient amount in all the correct ways, or else I will hurt. I will hurt so bad.

About a year and a half ago, I woke up with a pain in my lower right side. I thought little of it that morning, thinking it was a temporary consequence of having spent too much time leaning forward the night before, writing in my journal. I was wrong (about it being temporary, anyway) and I have not passed a day since then without experiencing some amount of pain in that region.

It has mostly been OK. It’s usually worst in the morning, when I try to get out of bed, but I can always get out of bed. The number of days I’ve been rendered more or less immobile by the pain, bound to the living room couch with a heating pad, I can count on one hand. I can walk around, mow the lawn, wash dishes, and appear like a functional human 95% of the time. But after about a year of hurting a bunch for all that, it occurred to me that perhaps I could, and ought, to do something about it.

I talked to my doctor, who wrote me a referral for physical therapy, and then I continued hurting for however many months until an opening was available for an appointment. I suppose, with the benefit of hindsight, that I might have been a little more proactive about managing my pain. The trouble is, I’ve never been great about knowing what is best for my body. I struggled and sweated my way through P.E. when I was in school. My participation in sports and games of exertion was sporadic and uninspiring. In my mid twenties I was on something like the right track with regular hikes, walks, and visits to the gym, but circumstances steered me back to sedentary habits. The pain in my back and side made the idea of self-directed exercise unappealing. Like many of the physically untalented, I felt I needed somebody to tell me how to exercise just right, so that my body would feel better and I wouldn’t just make everything worse.

The first thing my therapists told me was that my posture was probably a big part of the problem. I agreed, perpetually hunched over my desk as I am, and the first part of my therapy became an effort to monitor and correct the positioning of my neck and shoulders at all possible times. I began comparing my resting stance to others I saw around me, and it was soon apparent that what felt in my body like an absurd puffing out of the chest, like some kind of vain, strutting gamecock, was a near approximation of how a normal human stands. Again, I’m not very physically self-aware.

Following some much-needed standing lessons, I began going to physical therapy about twice a week, where I worked on my posture and began doing prescribed exercises under close supervision. Over time, I acquired enough discipline (and some light pieces of necessary equipment) to do some of those things at home, and my progress accelerated. The acute pain in my side hasn’t totally disappeared, but my overall range of motion and ability to withstand leaning slightly forward over a sink long enough to wash a few dishes has vastly improved. Accordingly, I was discharged from my therapy program this week, it being agreed that I was ready to take matters into my own hands.

Here, for no other reason than that it is what is chiefly on my mind this week, is a review of how I have incorporated physical fitness into my daily routine. With any luck, writing it down like this will bolster my resolve and keep me at it, even when I feel like giving up in my quest to not hurt all the time. You’re my witness now, you cold, unblinking internet. Here is what I’m up to.

The cardio

This is not actually a part of my prescribed regimen, which mainly consists of calisthenics and strength training. About three years ago I bought a seated elliptical machine, which I had been using on and off at home. In the past year I had somewhat neglected it, partly due to the pain, but as I began to feel better again I decided there was no reason not to take it up again, and work up a real good sweat (I sweat easily).

I set the machine to a resistance level of eight, which feels comfortable to me, though I’m not sure what quantity the numbers on the knob refer to apart from “levels of resistance.” After putting on a podcast or TV show, I pedal non-stop for thirty minutes, after which my wife will not embrace me because I have, as noted, become very sweaty. In times past I would pedal for a full hour, but I don’t do this anymore, because I found that on top of my calisthenics I was simply becoming too exhausted.

The elliptical has to be a part of the picture because I otherwise would not get a whole lot of cardio exercise in my life. I still get out for the occasional walk around the neighborhood from time to time, but it’s not enough to keep me in fighting form. Fighting form is what I desire, after all, if not necessarily to fight anybody, to do which I would probably have to sign up for martial arts classes since I don’t know the first thing about it. Currently my plan is to only use the elliptical five out of seven days, allowing myself a bit of rest on the weekend with a bit of light walking now and then. The rest of my exercises are, whenever possible, to be done every day of the week.

The core-strength enhancers

Many years ago, I was capable of doing quite a lot of push ups. I tried to revive the habit a year ago, doing a quick five to see if I still had the knack; when I tried a second set, I promptly collapsed on the floor, feeling like my gut was about to split open. This feeling, I have come to realize, is the fatigue of a weakened core. The habit was not revived at that time.

About a week ago I realized that, with all the core strengthening I’d been doing, I could probably manage a few push ups. Lo and behold, I did two sets of five with no special difficulty. I decided I should do them every day, building my way up over time, and my therapists agreed. They love when you tell them how proactive you’re being.

They had me doing planks as well, and I didn’t much care for them, but one planking variant has been included in my home routine that I’m becoming accustomed to. They call it a “bear hold.” What I do is get on my hands and knees, straighten my spine, and then for thirty seconds at a time I lift my knees slightly above the ground, so that I am held up only by my hands and toes. The act of raising the knees just so shifts the center of gravity remarkably forward, and I am not light, so in learning to do these I am sure that I appeared like a real wobbly wimp. However, I find these days that three thirty-second bear holds, broken up by two sets of push ups, seems like something I can just about handle. I expect that in time I will be able to handle longer sets of both, since that is the basic principle behind strengthening exercises.

The resistance bands

One day, my physical therapists sent me home with four colored rubber cords, and for a while I forgot what they were called. They’re called resistance bands, but I was going with “stretchy-stretchies” for a while. They are very stretchy.

What I do with them is go out on my deck and loop a band of the appropriate resistance (they are color coded for that purpose) around a sturdy convenience—usually my hammock stand. Then I take either end of the band in each hand and perform two sets of four exercises to strengthen my shoulders. First, I pull the band straight back in a rowing motion, fifteen times. Then I pull my arms apart and form a big T, fifteen times. Next I pull my arms apart in alternating diagonals, fifteen times for each side (it’s simpler in my mind to just count to thirty). Lastly I bring my hands and elbows up and perform the motion of an overhead press, fifteen times. I actually found out this week that I wasn’t expected to be doing that one at home, but since I have decent form they didn’t tell me to stop.

I also have a little band, which I hold either end in each hand for a simpler exercise: ten reps of holding my arms out straight, and moving them up above my head and back down again in slow, deliberate arcs. It’s probably the easiest thing I do, but it does satisfy the shoulders very well.

I like the resistance bands a lot, and I think they help my posture. I’m also beginning to feel as though the muscles of my upper back are actually beginning to grow in size, which is an odd feeling for somebody who has never had an appreciable amount of visible muscle.

The foam roller

I love my foam roller. When they told me that they would actually sell me one to take home, I jumped on the chance immediately. I could stretch out my spine on that all day, if it wouldn’t absolutely wreck me in the process. Sometimes I welcome the prospect.

What I do is lay the foam cylinder on the floor, then lay my back down on top of it in parallel, so that I’m balanced like Snoopy on his dog house. Then I perform four kinds of repetitive actions for a minute each (or more, if I feel like it): I alternate my arms up and down like I’m doing the back stroke; I stretch my arms out wide and then wrap them around myself in a bear hug; I perform the classic snow angel maneuver; I push my fists forward into the air as far as I can and then bring my shoulders back down slowly. After I’m done with those, I usually just lay there a while, and let gravity work its wonders on my shoulders.

I usually do the foam roller exercises last, even after I’ve showered since they don’t really get me sweating. It lets me unwind and continue doing my body some favors while lying down, one of the all time most relaxing postures. It’s also convenient practice for keeping my neck vertebrae straight, and correcting the tendency to lean them forward.

This little blog post has been about me and my own present routine, not a prescription for how you can achieve a more perfect musculoskeletal condition. But if I can offer any advice, it’s this: get yourself a foam roller. Use it however you want. Maybe not however you want; it’s probably better to consult some kind of medical authority if you have any crazy ideas. But damn, it feels good if you do it right. That’s how exercise should feel.