Bodymind Ballwork for The Outer Side of The Legs

Right now, it’s the beginning of winter in the Northeast USA. We are wearing heavier clothing and shoes, the ground might be slippery, and the cold temperatures can sometimes cause muscles to tighten as we rush through our day. Tension in the outer legs that can cause hip, knee or ankle pain and fatigue.

Last year I wrote a blog about strengtheners for this part of the body, and today’s blog is about how to release tension there with the balls. While I acknowledge that many people use rollers for this, and get a lot of benefit, I prefer the balls, because I feel that the balls can get in between the layers and neighboring muscles really well, and they facilitate inner “glide” and healthy circulation.

Two of the techniques are done sitting on the floor, and the other two lying down. The balls can be purchased from www.lifesaball.org – look for the 4” spikey ball, and the 2.5” rainbow sponge ball, both of which I also sell at my studio. (Watch for the balls for sale from my website soon!)

1. Sitting with two 3-4” hollow balls: Begin by sitting with your legs spread to the side, and a ball under each buttock. Explore small movements with your pelvis to work on the muscles of the pelvic floor and lower buttocks.
Then stretch one leg to the side, bend the other one, and turn your upper body toward the bent leg. The ball will begin to move down your outer leg. You can lean over to that side to get more pressure if you wish. Make small slow movements to work on the outer thigh and the iliotibial band. Work for 5-10 minutes on one leg, moving the ball gradually down toward your knee, then repeat the same process on the other leg.

 

2. Sitting with one ball under the outer shin: For this you can use the hollow ball (for less pressure) or the solid ball (for more pressure). Sit with one leg bent and one leg straight out to the side. Place one ball under your outer shin. Lean over the bent leg and stabilize it with one hand on your knee and one on the ankle. Then slowly move your leg, moving the ball along the length of your outer shin muscles and fascia. Repeat on the other leg.

 

3. Lying on your side with one 3-4” hollow ball: Start by arranging props to support your upper body well while lying on your side. In this photo I have one pad under my ribs, two under my head, and a space between them for my shoulder.
Then place the ball under the side of the pelvis, where the iliotibial band begins. Your other leg can be behind, possibly on a bolster as shown here. Move your pelvis slowly forward and back to massage the muscles and fascia. Take your time, and stop in places that feel particularly tight.
Then move the ball a few inches down on the side of your thigh, skipping the bony prominence which is the greater trochanter of your femur. Work down the side of the thigh slowly, working on one spot at a time, moving the ball down with your hand when you’re finished with each spot. You can progress down to the side of the knee. Repeat on your other leg.

 

4. Lying on your side with two small solid balls under the side of your lower leg: Support your upper body in the same way as in #3 above.
Place the two balls under the outer shin of your bottom leg, and stack the other leg on top. You can start at the top and progress down toward your ankle. Move your legs slowly so that the ball works into the tibialis anterior and the peroneal muscles, and their associated fascia. You can roll the balls up and down, or across the outer shin. Improvise your movements to reach the places where you want the pressure.

 

For more fabulous ball techniques, check out my book The Bodymind Ballwork Method, published in October by North Atlantic Books.

 

 

Yoga On-the-Go: 7 Yoga Poses You Can Do Anywhere

Summer has finally arrived on the East Coast, and these seasonal transitions are a good time to review and refresh our commitment to self-care. If you’ve been browsing my website, you know that I practice yoga asana, pranayama, meditation and Bodymind Ballwork, a myofascial release technique. And in summer I look forward to adding in hiking, swimming, gardening, and playing outdoors with grandchildren. Plus one of my favorites – just lying in the grass and watching the sky. So the idea of what is “exercise” can expand beyond the normal routine.

What does your self-care look like? Perhaps you attend a yoga class or a meditation group, or go to the gym, or do some exercise at home. Does it change with the seasons? Can you throw in something new from time to time to keep it playful and fresh? Whether you’re in your twenties, your eighties, or somewhere in between, you may find that there is an ebb and flow to what your body likes to do. Aging is a reality for all of us, the body changes gradually but inevitably, and it’s important to adapt our practice to the fluctuations that are built into being human.

I encourage my students to try variations of yoga poses that they can do at in-between moments in the day – at the office, at home, or while travelling – to remind the body and mind to stay connected and to be fully present in the body for whatever you do. Here are some that I do at my kitchen table, while waiting at an airport, or on a break during a long drive. No need to change clothes, have a yoga mat, or even take off your shoes. Stretch in each direction: forward, backward, sideward and twisting. Be creative with your use of props (a park bench, the side of your car, etc) and also with the sequence – do what feels good to you.

Prasarita Padottanasana: With feet spread wide apart, stretch your legs and reach your hips back as you stretch your torso forward. Rest your head on the table with your arms folded. Breathe and quiet your mind as you connect with sensations inside.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Parsvakonasana with your back to the table: With your right leg turned out parallel to the table, bend the right knee, pointing it toward the middle toes. The other hips shifts forward slightly, away from the table. Lean to the right with the right arm on the table. Keeping your legs and abdomen strongly active, bring your torso to the side as far as you wish. Stretch your left arm alongside your head, reaching vigorously from hand to foot. Repeat on the other side.

 

 

 

 

 

Seated twist with chair: Sit sideways in the chair, with your spine erect and legs steady. Inhale, lift your spine, and exhale, twist toward the back of the chair. Place your hands wherever it helps you to twist more. Hold for a few breaths, and repeat on the other side.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

High lunge with the chair: Face the back of the chair and step your right foot forward, your left foot back. Both legs are parallel and the back heel will be off the floor. Face your pelvis squarely toward the chair, and hold the back of the chair with your hands. Lean forward a bit and push into the back leg, widening inside your pelvis and hips. Then pull down through the back of the pelvis as you lift up in the front torso. Raise your chest, look up, and expand from the top of your head all the way to the back foot. Raise your left arm up, and possibly also your right arm. Enjoy your strong and expanded self, then release and repeat on the other side.

 

 

 

 

Parivrrta Trikonasana with the chair and tabletop: Place the chair sideways next to the table, the seat facing you, as shown. Step your left leg forward and keep both legs straight. Reach your hips back and your chest forward as you place your right hand on the chair seat. Twist toward the table, with your left hand pressing down into the tabletop to help empower your twist. Breathe several times, then come out of the twist and repeat on the other side.

 

 

 

 

 

Shoulders and arms pulling back: Stand tall, roll your shoulders back and clasp your hands behind you. Pull your arms back to find a stretch in the front of your shoulders, and a supportive strength in the upper back. Take several deep breaths, feeling all inner sensations as you hold the pose.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Upward facing dog with hands on the table: Place your hands on the edge of the table and walk your feet back. As you bring more weight onto your arms, be sure to keep your shoulders back and your chest lifted. Bend your elbows a bit, bring your pelvis toward the table with your tailbone lengthening, and move your chest forward between your arms, as if going through a doorway. Look up if you can, and enjoy a full stretch from your chin to your toes.
Then repeat the first pose, Prasarita Padottanasana, one more time to finish.

I invite you to leave a comment below…. and enjoy the summer.


I am excited to announce my new book, “The Bodymind Ballwork Method: A Self-Directed Practice to Help You Move with Ease, Release Tension, and Relieve Chronic Pain” to be released in October 2018 by North Atlantic Books. You can pre-order your copy now. Click here.

The Unexpected Silver Linings of Major Hip Surgery

At almost four months after hip replacement surgery, I wanted to collect my thoughts about the whole process, in hopes that hearing about my experience might help others who are considering or definitely heading toward a similar experience.

The lead-up:

I notice that my pain is more frequent and more disruptive of daily activities about two years before surgery.

I go to physical therapy, hoping that will be enough. It is very helpful, but not enough.

I take time to make a list of possible doctors to see.

I see four hip surgeons over the course of a few months. They all tell me I need hip replacement because of advanced arthritic changes in one hip, and they think I’ll need it in the other one too (but I don’t think so).

I choose one of the doctors based on two friends who had surgery with him, plus I liked him and his staff at the initial visit. He’s Patrick Meere at NYU Langone, Hospital for Joint Diseases.

I delay choosing a date, putting off the decision for a few months. Just can’t do it.

My physical therapist encourages me to get the surgery while I’m in relatively good shape, and save the remaining insurance therapy allotment for afterwards.

I schedule a date in late September, giving myself 2 months of time off from teaching afterward, plus another month with no travel. (Actually, I began teaching private sessions after two weeks and classes after three weeks, all at my home studio.)

I am grateful that I have both a solid background in complementary healing methods such as acupuncture, massage, chiropractic and homeopathy, plus a basic faith in mainstream medicine from my father who was a general surgeon. This way I go into the process with confidence on both sides of that spectrum.

The surgery day and first two weeks:

I am nervous, but the morning of surgery I feel ready and grateful for family support. My son is a medical student and I’m comforted as he chats with the anesthesiologist about drugs with impossibly long names (he’s studying pharmacology at the time).

After about 3 hours of pre-op procedures, I say goodbye to family, walk into the OR and sit on the table, greeted by the anesthesiologist and a very nice nurse. They chat as they prepare to give me the drugs, and I marvel at the high-tech feeling of the room. Everyone is wearing suits and helmets as if it’s a space flight about to launch. Thankfully a nurse without a helmet is right by my side, and probably holding me up. The last thing I remember is putting my head into a face cradle while still sitting up. I have heard that people talk at this early stage of anesthesia but don’t remember any of it, so that probably happened to me. I probably lay down on the table still chatting with the nurse.

The next thing I know, it’s 3 hours later and I’m in the recovery room with a very friendly young male nurse by my side asking how I’m feeling. He brings me juice and I am filled with gratitude that it’s over and I’m awake and feeling mentally normal. I have no pain, and in fact, I feel euphoric, thanks to those drugs flooding my system. The euphoria lasts all day while I transition to a room upstairs (with a great view) and get settled, greeting visiting family members. The hospital staff gets me up and walking that afternoon. As I traverse the hallway near my room, there is a framed print by my husband artist Robert Kushner on the wall – a welcome sight.

The next day I have more pain, but I can still get up and walk. That night I have my first melt-down of frustration, and a very kind nurse offers me a hug and a shoulder to cry on. That means a lot to me.

The third day I am scheduled to go home, and there’s a flurry of people in and out to arrange all the discharge procedures. Finally at noon, I walk out on crutches and take the short 4-block trip home via Uber. Too far to walk at this point. But only 2.5 days in the hospital, not much.

At home, I have two places where I spend time – my bed and a couch in the living room. Pretty soon I have a routine and everything I need within reach – phone, laptop, water, reading, medications, snacks. This is when the new normal emerges – resting, walking, taking care of only basic daily needs. This is radical for me, being a person who’s always keeping busy and going from one thing to another all day. Here I am, just on the couch. It’s kind of fun learning how to put on socks and pants with a long-handled grabber.

I’m tremendously grateful for family members and friends who care for me, make my meals, rub my feet, help me navigate daily needs. For these first two weeks, an occupational therapist, a physical therapist, and a visiting nurse come to see me. The PT gets me up and walking outside the very first day. We walk to the corner and back, and that is plenty. When his time is up, I’m sad to say goodbye because we have become friends. He says he wants to come study yoga with me. He buys a rubber ball to help with his plantar fasciitis.

The long-term recovery

As an anatomy geek, I’m fascinated to watch the changes day by day. The incision goes from being quite gory looking with lots of bruises, to a thin red line. My walking becomes smoother, and I transition from walker to cane to nothing. Each week I keep track of my successes, and I laugh at how small but how significant they are. The first time I can wash my feet and put lotion on them. The first time I can put on lace-up shoes. The first time I can go to the grocery store, carry things home, and cook a meal. The first time I can sleep on my left side. The first time I do downward facing dog, sit cross-legged for meditation, do pigeon pose, sun salutation, kick-up handstand.

My muscles are sore and weak in unusual places, but physical therapy always makes me feel more fluid in my walking and confident in my strength. I gradually return to almost all of my favorite yoga poses, and although that process is slower than I anticipated, it feels right. My body clearly tells me yes and no. I get very creative with props.

 

The silver linings:

Ingenuity in figuring out how to do things in a new way.

Patience with myself and my “to-do” list which is ever present.

Gratitude for small and large kindnesses from family, friends and strangers.

Gratitude for yoga and physical therapy, both of which sped me along toward recovery faster than otherwise would have happened.

Awe at the body’s capacity to heal.

Awe for the medical profession to have figured out how to safely replace a hip joint.

And excitement to be in a new phase of wellness and enthusiasm for life!

 

Feel free to write me if you want to dialogue about any of this, or if I can support you in your journey.