May 12, 2013

Aches and pains: My favorite home remedies (Part II)

Posted by YogaSpy under aging, body, books, flexibility, health, muscles, yoga | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , |
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sleeping-in-symmetryHere are my favorite home remedies for routine tweaks and twinges–and a word on the psychosomatic factor.

RICE (Rest Ice Compression Elevation)

Rest. The best and simplest remedy is hardest for me to comply with. When I notice a twinge or tweak, what do I do? I might ratchet down, but short of full R&R.

When I attend class and the teacher says, “Does anyone have anything to report?” I tend to underreport. Then, instead of forgoing the class sequence, I adjust my intensity accordingly; there’s a big difference in doing a pose at 75% versus 85% versus 95% capacity. I admit that an individualized modified practice might be much wiser.

liz-koch-constructive-restTo “justify” rest, I sometimes recall a position (and turn of phrase) that my first yoga teacher called “constructive rest.” Yes-sir-ee, rest is constructive. No need to feel lazy or guilty about resting.

Ice is bracingly effective to me, but also messy and inconvenient. Non-ice substitutes are ideal. (Long ago I found an ice pack composed of small gel-filled plastic pillows (like ravioli). Magically, they keep cold for several hours. Today I can neither identify the brand nor find anything remotely as effective.)

Compression and elevation make sense, but I find these options cumbersome for non-limb muscles and joints. Compress and elevate my hamstring origins?!

OTC drugstore remedies

I have no qualms popping two Advils (Ibuprofen) when I’m hurt. To me, it’s important immediately to reduce inflammation and the sensation of pain. Otherwise, acute pain from a legitimate injury can become chronic pain, due not to tissue damage but to misguided neurologic activity.

Atul Gawande’s New Yorker article “The Itch” disturbingly explains the brain’s effects on sensation: what we think we feel through our senses might well be “made up” by our brain. I don’t want to give my brain a chance to cling to pain!

salonpas_pain_relief_patch_40ct-225x187

Besides ibuprofen, I’ve tried the herbal arnica remedy Traumeel, which I found ineffective, perhaps because I’m skeptical of homeopathy and it’s “Law of Infinitesimals.” More recently I’ve tried Voltaren Emugel (Diclofenac; available only by prescription in the USA). On a whim I tried the gel last year for mild plantar fasciitis. Soon, my feet felt fine. Due to Voltaren? Due to stretching my soles and Achilles tendons? Without a control, who can know?

My favorite home remedy harks back to my childhood: Salonpas. Maybe every Japanese kid remembers the unmistakable camphor-menthol smell of a grandparent’s Salonpas. The smell alone could cure (or so it seemed). Wake with a stiff neck? Slap on one of these patches… Ah!

Stress

The year before I first tried yoga was turbulent: breakup, landlord clash over harboring cat in no-pets apartment, move across town. I suddenly felt inexplicable back discomfort, primarily while sitting. Strangely, the pain was inconsistent, flaring up at work (despite ergonomic chair) and vanishing at home. A yoga classmate recommended that I read Mind Over Back Pain by John Sarno.

mind-over-back-pain-coverSarno hypothesized that pain is subjective based on mental state; tenseness disrupts circulation, reduces blood flow to specific areas (especially the back), and causes pain. He had studied patients with actual spinal-disc injuries: some felt excruciating pain, others felt nothing despite similar physical abnormality. Thus pain can be a function of the mind. The cure: change your mindset.

Note: Sarno has written two follow-up books, Healing Back Pain and The Mindbody Prescription. I happened upon the latter and found it over-the-top in its crusading claim that all illnesses and injuries are “in the mind.” Read a clear-eyed review here.

Massage

Undoubtedly, my favorite antidote to aches and pains is massage. It is both preventive and curative. Sometimes my body simply craves deep-tissue massage and, if I book an appointment, my mind also relaxes in anticipation.

I do wonder whether my craving for massage signals Sarno-type tension. Do people exist who are truly tension free? People whose muscles are strong and firm, yet uniformly pliable and smooth? Sarno might conclude that massage, while soothing, is only a Band-Aid.

Or maybe it’s more like a prop: with massage, I can feel more myself while working on myself.

GO TO PART I

Image: Liz Koch in “constructive rest” position

 

May 9, 2013

Aches and pains: Are you “injury prone”? (Part I)

Posted by YogaSpy under aging, body, flexibility, health, Iyengar, Iyengar assessment, Iyengar certification, muscles, teacher training, yoga | Tags: , , |
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Last month, eight colleagues and I faced our Intro II assessment for certification as Iyengar yoga teachers. Before commencing, the assessors asked us about injuries or health issues: “Do you have anything new to report?”

When my turn came, I said, “Nothing new to report.” I entered the exam “healthy.” Secretly, however, I knew my real answer: “Nothing new, except the usual stuff.” In other words, even 100%, I’m always aware of my potential trouble spots.

In the past decade, I’ve sustained one major injury (rotator cuff tear) and a bunch of little tweaks and twinges. I tell myself that active people inevitably sustain minor injuries. But is this true?

bizarro-yoga-comicWhy are some people “injury-prone”?

Have you noticed that some people are inexplicably “injury prone”? Among yoga students, one might report new problems every other week, while another might never mention anything. (This tendency does not correlate with ability or flexibility, by the way.)

My first idea is mindfulness: Do injuries result from preoccupied or scattered behavior? Do people invite accidents? An acquaintance once said that when she finds herself stubbing a toe or stumbling on stairs, it’s a sign that she must pause, take deep breaths, and gather herself.

Next, I wonder if some people are hypersensitive to pain. The same tweaked knee might bother one person more than the next. After all, people vary in tolerance levels for deep massage, intense aerobic training, invasive surgery, freezing weather, and hot chili peppers. Regardless of your sensory awareness/tolerance level, perhaps the main thing is be sensitive during the activity, not after, when it’s too late and damage is done.

The likeliest reason might be overzealousness. Possibly, intense students end up injuring themselves because they willingly, eagerly push to their limits. They never allow R&R, and they ignore warning signs.

Are injuries preventable?

So, can people be intensely active and yet prevent/avoid injuries? My injury history (very abridged sample below) indicates yes:

  • Rotator cuff tear A few years ago, I tore two rotator-cuff tendons by slipping and falling on my shoulder. What was I doing? Walking around photographing fall leaves. Instead of bracing myself, I held onto my camera; my shoulder took the hit.
  • Hamstring strain Six months post-op, I resumed yoga classes full force. I also volunteered as a student in an Intermediate Junior II assessment (and did more Utthita Hasta Padangusthasana than ever). Soon I felt twinges at my hamstring origins. Too much, too soon.
  • Neck/upper back stiffness post Sarvangasana Last month, in the run-up to my assessment, I suddenly tripled my usual Sarvangasana hold, doing recorded timed-practice sequences. Again, intensifying a pose should be done incrementally.

And so forth. Of course, you might be more mindful than I–and still end up injured. I’m not implying that we’re always the perpetrators of our aches and pains! We’re also ruled by genetics and chance. Even fully mindful, stuff happens.

Next: when faced with injury, what do you do?

GO TO PART II

Image: Bizarro comic, The Peace Lily

Acknowledgment

This post is dedicated to my colleagues in Vancouver. We all passed our Intro II assessment in April. We couldn’t be more diverse, in body type, age, profession, personality, and birthplace (spanning four different countries!). But we all, in one way or another, have dealt with pain.

post-assessment-cropped

 

April 1, 2013

From the “It’s never too late” files: the centenarian marathoner

Posted by YogaSpy under aging, attitude, body, change, health, home, inspiring people, life, yoga | Tags: , |
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Fauja SinghAre there “windows of time” for some things in life? One of my yoga students, a runner/marathoner, hypothesized  that most people’s bodies can tolerate long-distance running only for two or three decades. Those who run hard from teens to 40s often aren’t running past 50. Those who start later often continue later, but within similar extents.

I recalled our chat when I read “The Runner,” by Jordan Conn, ESPN. Fauja Singh began running upon moving to London at age 84. Born in northwestern India on April 1, 1911, he had lived simply, as a farmer in his home village, for eight decades. Among his three sons and three daughters, only one son, Kuldip, remained at home. After his wife died in 1992, he expected to spend his remaining days working the fields and laughing over tea with his son.

Two years later, Kuldip was killed before his eyes in an accident. Singh was devastated. Eventually, his other children convinced him to move to London, where most of them lived. He left his homeland, he says, “to forget.”

He began running with fellow Punjabi expats at Sikh community gatherings. According to the article, running saved him:

When running, Fauja realized he thought only of his next step. After enough steps, his mind went blank, and with his feet pounding the pavement, Fauja says, “I felt connected to God.” The anger evaporated. For at least a few moments, Fauja escaped his grief.

PJT-ScotiaBankMarathon-17.jpgOne day, he saw a marathon on TV. If those people can do it, surely he could! In 2000, he ran his first marathon at age 89. The next year, he ran the London Marathon and became the fastest man over 90 to run a marathon. By his 100th birthday, he’d broken other distance-running records for men over 100, but he wanted the Guinness World Record for oldest male to complete a marathon.

In October 2011, he finished the Toronto Marathon at age 100, two years older than the official record holder. Unfortunately, he has no birth certificate, which weren’t given to Indians under British rule in 1911. And Guinness requires birth certificates as evidence. Today he is 102, and he ran his final race (a 10K in Hong Kong) in February.

Is there a yoga “window of time”?

Patanjali’s eight-limbed yoga is multi-dimensional, and one can focus on different limbs at different stages of life. A typical assumption is that we shift our focus from asana to “higher” limbs over time. That said, asana can be done at any age, if modified accordingly. The yoga window is long, as long as a lifespan for some.

Maybe anything is possible at any age. (Almost.) Take Singh and running: His marathon times can’t compete with a young man’s, and his running career cannot span decades. Nevertheless he underwent the same “arc,” from incline to peak to decline. His marathon times improved between 89 and 92!

2013 Hong Kong MarathonWho’s to define the “best” time for any arc to occur? Certainly, we’d all run our fastest marathons from youth to middle age, not in our 90s. Likewise, in asana, one’s arc has a different flavor if it runs from 25 to 45 versus from 30 to 80. But is one experience necessarily superior?

I once read a senior yoga teacher describing how handstands came naturally to her, but in her 60s they became incongruously challenging. Around the same time, one of my yoga students, sturdy and athletic at 60, was thrilled about her progress as a beginner. While she might never do a handstand, her asana trajectory was ascending. In her context, she was going uphill, not downhill.

Any arc must have a downslope, of course. In Haruki Murakami’s memoir What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, he muses about writing novels and running, both which he took up at 33. He ran many marathons, peaking in his late 40s. Approaching 60, he couldn’t sustain his former race times and mused on the futility of human effort: It’s like pouring water into a pot with a tiny hole at the bottom. Eventually the pot will run dry. Yet we strive to keep the water flowing, the pot full.

Singh went from unforeseen grief to running marathons, from his native India to “fantastic and different” London, in his 80s and 90s. Maybe there are “windows of time” for everything, but no rules about when they should occur.

Images: England, ESPN; Toronto Marathon, October 2011, National Post; Hong Kong 10K, February 2013, National Post

 

March 14, 2013

Knowing “who’s who” among yoga teachers

Posted by YogaSpy under Iyengar, teachers, yoga | Tags: , , , , , |
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When I took my first yoga class in 1997, I had no idea who the “major” teachers were. I didn’t know what “Iyengar” meant and had to ask my first teacher, Sandy Blaine, to spell it. I met Sandy fortuitously since she then taught at UC Berkeley’s rec center (free classes for members!). But I got lucky. Sandy was an excellent teacher. Despite my total ignorance about yoga, that much was clear.

Now, 15 years in, I recognize many names in the Iyengar world and beyond. Most teachers/studios have attractive websites with detailed bios elaborating training, mentors, level of certification, years of experience. In a few clicks, I can know “who” someone is. But, as with Sandy, I initially found teachers on my own, somewhat by happenstance—without knowing much about their histories or reputations.

PavanamukhtasanaEarly on, I enrolled in one of Mary Lou Weprin’s classes. I knew that she was then co-director of The Yoga Room, but nothing else. On day one, I recall doing Pavanamukhtasana. It felt easy, but Mary Lou immediately recognized that my left hip flexors were tighter and more congested. How did she know?! (I must have been rolling slightly to the left.) I was impressed. Over time I realized that this was just a hint of Mary Lou’s knowledge of alignment and sequencing in asana.

Often, I didn’t grasp the full extent of a teacher’s renown. For example, when I told Donald Moyer, founding director of The Yoga Room (whom I’ve written about here), that I was moving to Vancouver a few years ago, I suddenly discovered his long history here. He introduced Vancouver teachers to Iyengar yoga in 1974, after he had studied the method in London. Today Donald remains a big draw when he returns, an almost legendary figure (with monomymous status) and forever tied to Canada’s yoga history. Little did I know.

When visiting teachers offered workshops at The Yoga Room, I signed up without little, if any, research. Dona Holleman? I attended and absorbed. Joan White? I attended and absorbed. I was a sponge, without context or hierarchy. While such teachers were obviously well-known, I regarded them no differently than I did local or less-famous teachers.

ascent magazine #18

One teacher, Ramanand Patel, I met initially as a journalist. In 2002, while researching an article, “questionable conduct,” for ascent magazine on ethical teacher-student relationships, I called him to arrange an interview. When he agreed, my first thought was “Score!” We journalists rely on articulate sources and I imagined that he’d produce quotable quotes. Ramanand generously invited me to his home and, yes, I got some great quotes. From that conversation I decided to attend his next series in Berkeley. Only later did I realize his vast influence among Iyengar yogis worldwide.

In Vancouver, while no longer a clueless beginner, I was a blank slate in terms of Canadian yoga teachers (another example of USA-centrism). I dropped into a class with Louie Ettling at her studio, The Yoga Space. By then I could tell almost immediately whether a particular teacher was a good fit—and I knew that I could learn from Louie. I discovered only later her reputation as a gifted teacher’s teacher, both of her trainees and of her peers.

Yoga Journal March 2013Nowadays, it’s hard to resist checking out people/places/things beforehand. Before trying an unknown cafe or untested hairstylist, I skim reviews on Yelp. Before buying something, I search online for raves or rants about it. And who can deny the influence of “critics” and more-underground arbiters of taste? If you hear about some awesome new band, artist, or show, suddenly you think, “This must be good.” Do you really think it’s good? Or are you simply adopting the latest critics’ choice or indie darling?

Likewise a yoga teacher’s established high reputation cannot help but sway your judgment. Who has the guts to go rebel and question the status quo? But should majority opinion hold that much clout? Just because a teacher is popular, accomplished, senior, or even indisputably brilliant doesn’t guarantee that he/she is ideal for you.

Sometimes I miss being a clean slate and not knowing “who’s who” among yoga teachers. It was pure and simple to experience people merely as people. But I did find some outstanding teachers without knowing much more than their names. I found them through firsthand observation and intuition, which to me is the best way.

Images: Pavanamukhtasana, zakiyoga.blogspot.ca; ascent magazine; Yoga Journal

 

February 28, 2013

Yoga videos versus yoga teaching

Posted by YogaSpy under classes, Iyengar, marketing yoga, music in classes, north american trends, teachers, types of yoga, video teaching, yoga, yoga performance | Tags: |
[8] Comments 

After President Obama’s second inauguration in January, Beyoncé got flak for performing the US national anthem using a pre-recorded version. At first, I agreed that singing live is not only superior, but also expected.

On second thought, her recorded version is still her. We hear her voice, her interpretation. So what if she sang it beforehand? Music is an art form experienced mostly through recording anyway.

I researched and found some famous renditions of “The Star-Spangled Banner”: Whitney Houston’s 1991 Super Bowl XXV performance apparently was pre-recorded:

Marvin Gaye 1983 NBA All-Star Game performance was not:

Yet both are fantastic.

I proceeded to think about other forms of video recording—yoga videos in particular. Nowadays many yoga teachers film themselves doing asana, not only teaching poses, but simply doing them. Music is almost de rigueur (who knows, you might gain an audience with a “cool playlist”). While the videos can be impressive, I wonder if prospective students understand that a choreographed display does not necessarily translate to good teaching.

The teaching of yoga—Iyengar yoga in particular—is hard to capture on video. That’s because the demonstrations and verbal instructions are only the beginning. The real benefit of this method is the direct teacher-student interaction. Teachers observe and correct/adjust/advise students. Obviously this requires firsthand contact.

Are there many (any?) good Iyengar yoga teaching videos out there? I Googled “Iyengar yoga video” and found a random mix of websites and videos. The only name I recognized on the first page of URLs was Gabriella Giubilaro, who released a teaching DVD in 2005. I’ve taken only two workshops with Gabriella, so I’m no expert on her teaching or her style. But, watching a brief trailer of the video, I found her tone unexpectedly subdued. Further, on film there’s no way to convey how she exhorts students to move, how she ruthlessly exposes errors, how she steers her teaching to what she sees in the moment. I thought, “This captures only a fraction of who she is in person!”

Maybe in other types of yoga teaching, videos are a decent substitute for classes. If all that’s needed is a good sequence and a good performer, a video can do the trick. But in Iyengar yoga there’s no substitute for the real thing. That’s the difference between performance (such as Beyoncé pre-recording her singing) and teaching (which cannot be pre-recorded).

Note: I am not panning yoga performance videos altogether. It can be inspiring to watch the grace and power of the human body—and by watching one can visually imprint the right actions to replicate an asana. For starters, my Google search also found this 1991 video of BKS Iyengar, then 73, doing backbends, including doing Sirsasana dropovers in reverse.

 

January 29, 2013

Are men really less flexible than women?

Posted by YogaSpy under body, flexibility, health, north american trends, yoga | Tags: , , , , , |
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I recently read two articles on that apparently rare specimen: the male yoga student. In an undated Yoga Journal article, “Where Are All the Men?” Andrew Tilin, considers why men aren’t naturally inclined toward yoga. In a December 22, 2012, New York Times article, “Wounded Warrior Pose,” William Broad investigates whether men risk injury doing asana.

Yoga Journal Urdhva Dhanurasana

The takeaway from both articles (whether true or not) is nothing startling: Men are naturally less flexible than women (although even researchers “can’t specifically link it to differences in hormones, musculature, or connective tissue”). Men are more likely than women to sustain major injuries from yoga (women sustain more injuries overall, but less serious ones). Men are driven by competitive challenge and thus overdo to prove themselves (or they avoid yoga altogether). Men regard yoga studios as a female domain, foreign and discomfiting.

Reading the two, I rifled through my mental catalog of male yoga classmates, teachers, and students. Are they stiffer than female counterparts? Generally, yes. But, even among beginners, there are clear exceptions. In fact, I find a huge range in male flexibility, from rigidly immobile to off-the-charts elastic.

That said, my male sample size is much, much smaller than my female sample size. So my conclusions (and perhaps the cited studies’) might be based on invalid comparisons. Maybe the men who gravitate toward yoga represent particular types: men rehabbing injuries, retirees seeking relief from decades of wear-and-tear, musclebound athletes, husbands dragged to class by their wives, naturally flexible guys who take easily to asana.

Likewise, there might be self-selection in the female yogi cohort. Many women who are keen practitioners (who loved yoga asana from day one) are innately supple. We all tend to do what “feels good” or what we’re “good at.” Maybe flexible men end up doing more traditionally male sports, from martial arts to swimming, while flexible women are attracted to yoga.

Yoga Journal Akarna DhanurasanaTilin states that boys and girls are similarly limber until adolescence. Really? I recently taught a healthy, slim 12-year-old girl who struggled to do Adho Mukha Svanasana (much less Uttanasana) with a straight spine. Her pelvis was posteriorly tilted due to tight hamstrings. At twelve! Around the same time, I taught a couple of teen brothers; both were sporty, fit, and more flexible than the girl; but one was definitely tighter in the shoulders and hips. I suspect that genetics are more influential than gender.

If men naturally have more muscle than women do, how come some men are so loose? Once, after I taught my class at a community centre, the next teacher, a lanky 40-ish male, was warming up in the room. I turned away for a moment, gathering my belongings, and when I looked back he was flat on the floor in full Kurmasana, arms and legs shooting out, chin comfortably grounded. Splat!

Yoga Journal Parsvottanasana

I asked him about his yoga background, which is Ashtanga. He told me that he’d done distance sports, including triathlons, before trying yoga. “I was so stiff at first,” he said. “My classmates would make fun of me because my knees would be sticking way up in Baddhakonasana.” Is his case an example of transforming one’s flexibility, to heck with genetics (and gender, if it does matter)?

Ultimately, whether men are less flexible than women is neither here nor there. As a practitioner, you must deal with the hand you’re dealt, male, female, genetically loose or tight. As a teacher, you must see each individual body, avoid assumptions, and prevent injury.

Images: Yoga Journal, Urdhva Dhanurasana, Akarna Dhanurasana, and Parsvottanasana

 

January 17, 2013

Regular practice in de-cluttering, yoga, and being a good aunt

Posted by YogaSpy under body, home, home practice, life, yoga | Tags: , , , , , |
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tali-drawing-1After my thorough New Year’s de-cluttering, I was quite satisfied… for a few days. Then I saw books, notes, pet fur, and fresh debris re-invading my immaculate space. Banishing clutter is not an occasional project—it must be regular practice.

I’m reminded of a yoga teacher’s anecdote three years ago, which I cited in Clearing the clutter. When San Francisco yoga teacher Joe Naudzunas‘s truck was totaled, he had to empty it out. It took longer than expected.

“Do you clean your car regularly?” he asked. “Or do you let junk accumulate in it? Do you use it as another closet, just toss stuff into it? If you let junk build up, it’s a big job to clean it. But if you maintain it daily, it’s not a problem.”

He was analogizing a clean, well-maintained vehicle with a body clean and well-maintained by yoga. If we work on our closed, tight trouble spots only occasionally, it’s a big and painful job to release them. But if we work on them regularly, ideally daily, we keep them open and mobile.

IMG_0588New Year’s resolution = regular practice

His analogy goes beyond yoga and orderliness. Regular practice applies to any New Year’s resolution. Consider the most-common ones: Get fit. Lose weight. Quit smoking. Save money. Advance career. None are one-time achievements. All require longtime, I’d say lifetime, commitment.

One of my resolutions is to be more connected with my faraway family and friends—not just during visits but always. I’m bad at keeping in touch. I’m not into calling and texting (and forget about Facebook), and I put off newsy email messages for “when I have free time.” I regret not sending more holiday greeting cards to my little niece. (My mom long ago established a tradition to send cards on every holiday, from Halloween and Christmas to St Patrick’s Day and Easter, nevermind that we’re neither Irish nor Christian. Sending a card might seem a mere gesture but it takes time and energy. To bother with handwriting and stamps means that you care. My mom never misses a holiday, by the way.)

IMG_5311When I neglect my family and friends, I’m letting clutter accumulate in my most-important relationships. When I find myself repeatedly apologizing or repeatedly procrastinating or repeatedly feeling guilty about my behavior… I’m accumulating a load of clutter. Of course, they are my family and friends; it’s back to normal when we’re together again. But relationships must be ongoing, not occasional.

The sad thing about relationship clutter is that it’s less redeemable. I can always clear my desk, purge my closet, or intensify my yoga practice—and set things right. But my niece won’t forever be so delighted to receive cute cards from me. With people, missed opportunities might not come again.

 

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