Last Friday I made a physio appointment for the Monday in the hope that the physio would stick a needle in my lower back to release the knot of muscle that has long bugged me and has recently been triggered by teaching more yoga. In my mind, it would be a quick fix, of the kind that David, an exercise physio in his 30s, has obliged me with at 6-monthly intervals for the last little while. I had, after all, heeded his advice and started a weekly Pilates class. With a needle jab, and a quick massage, my back would be as good as new.
I arrived for the appointment to find David running late, forcing me to wait what felt like forever - which turned out to be 10 minutes - without my phone on a plastic chair in reception. Still, it was long enough for me to tire of the art on the walls, and to thank my lucky stars that my life so far hasn’t had to include regular health appointments.
David ushered me down the hall, asking how I was doing and whether there were any big changes in my life. Unbuckling my shoes, I said that I’d taken on extra yoga classes, that sitting cross-legged on hard floors was triggering my knot, and that my lower back was stiff on waking.
I finished with the admission that I was hoping David might do his usual trick of needling and massaging the knot in my back. He smiled.
‘Well’, he said, ‘I could do that. Only it wouldn’t address the underlying problem which will only be helped by strengthening your hips and thighs’.
‘Sure’, I said, sensing what was coming next.
‘Have you heard of sliders before?’ he asked, as he got down on the floor.
‘No’, I said.
‘Okay’, he said, as he pulled out 2 snow-shoe-like contraptions from a box and put them under his feet. ‘So. First you lie on your back like this, and draw your pelvis up into a high bridge position. Just like in yoga. Now, with control, you push the sliders out from under you in one long movement. Then you lower your back to the ground, draw the sliders back in and push your pelvis up into a bridge before pushing your feet away again. That’s it. Right’, he said, pushing the sliders towards me, ‘now you try’.
And I did. And as I did I could feel my lower back engage.
‘Great’, he said.
‘And where do I get sliders from?’ I asked, thankful of having to do just three slides in front of David, given how effortful they were.
‘Oh’, he said, ‘don’t worry about that. Shoe box lids work just as well if you have carpet. And if your floors are hard, you can use a towel.’
Next David pulled a step stool from under the massage bed and proceeded to step slow-motion up and down on it, off the same foot each time, like a human stick figure.
‘And now’, he said, jumping off the step, ‘it’s your turn’.
Standing silently, he watched me step up and down off the step for 30 seconds.
‘No’, he said, as if interrupting his chain of thought. ‘You’ll need to move a whole lot slower if you’re not going to rely on momentum to lift you up’.
‘Got it’, I said, as I moved up and down off the step as slowly as I could. David stood alongside watching, his arms crossed over his super-toned chest.
‘Better’, he said, after a pause.
‘And’, he said brightly, ‘there’s also that sideways crab-walk with the thera band around your feet that I gave you last time. How did that go?’
‘Yes’, I said, ‘it does work and I do do it. Only not as often as you suggested.’
‘My thought’, said David, undeterred, ‘is that if we put these exercises together, you’ll have another session for you to do at home once a week without needing to do a second class on the Reformer. How does that sound?’
‘Perfect’, I said, liking the simplicity of his solution.
‘Except’, I asked, as my next thought rolled in, ‘who will I be accountable to?’
David beamed back a smile and said nothing.
‘Oh’, I said, ‘I get it. Me’.
‘Exactly’, said David in a satisfied way.
It seems ridiculous that someone who teaches yoga should be dismayed to have the ball thrown back at them in this way. But it was definitely disappointment I felt when David made it clear that the answer to my niggly lower back needed to come from inside and not outside me.
Glancing at his watch, David sat down at his desk and became absorbed in drawing stick figures for the exercises he was prescribing for me in lieu of a quick fix.
‘Of course’, he said, looking up from his drawing, ‘if it was something acute, I’d use an active treatment. But for something longstanding, like your back, it’s really not appropriate.’
‘Sure, I said, buckling my shoes and pushing myself up off the floor.
‘You do know’, said David, drawing his head back to assess his stick figures, ‘that it’s completely normal to feel stiff in the morning after a long sleep’.
‘Yes, of course’, I said.
There was another pause as he put the finishing touches on the sheet in front of him.
‘Okay,’ he said, handing me the sheet, ‘that’s it. And if you wouldn’t mind asking reception to photocopy the sheet, we can keep it on file.’
‘Got it’, I said, ‘thank you so much’. And I gathered my wallet, keys and folded sheet and headed out to pick up what was left of my day.