Miracle therapy or desperation?

I think I may have typed too soon, or maybe I was just dreaming, or maybe, as one of my co-workers so frequently likes to tell me, I’m just delirious. But you know the other day, when I was practically dancing in the streets about being pain and fancy free? Well, today, that’s so not the case at all. Oh no, I’m like a freaking claw all clenched and hooked over with burbles of pain roiling through my neck, down my lower back and in and out of my hips – my pain nemesis!
And I say BAH! to you pain. I’ll show you … with positivity!

I mean, seriously, how could I possibly let the resurfacing of the pain get to me, when, on my way home from work tonight, I frantically had to stop off at my brother’s house to use the washroom (I was only a quarter of the way through my hour-long commute) and my three-year-old nephew greeted me with a handful of hugs … literally, he held out his little cupped hand and said there was a big hug inside it just for me … anddddd I so felt a little of my pain disappear right there. And then when I arrived home, and there was a very spring-like bunch of purply-yellow irises perched on the table, even more of my day’s pains were lifted.

So, do you remember that evil orange plastic ball? Well, turns out it was nothing but a further pain in my butt!
When I told my physiotherapist about it, he didn’t even bother to hide his amusement. He burst out laughing, he was laughing so hard, he almost fell over. And then there’s me, lying on the table, face as red as can be … luckily I like the guy 🙂
In between his gasps of laughter, he did, however, suggest that rather than torturing myself with a rock-hard ball, that he said would only bruise me, not cure me, I should invest in some miracle balls – two balls the size of grapefruits that are much softer (but still somewhat firm) than the evil orange plastic ball!

And seeing as how I’m pretty much desperate to get back to my running, I immediately ran out and got me some.
While Mario was out mountain biking with friends, I figured it was a perfect opportunity to get started. I read through the small book that comes with the balls, and was instantly encouraged when it said there was no visualization or meditation involved – my brain is far too active to focus on imaginary crashing waves, which, in my opinion is the worst thing about yoga. Maybe it’s the inner demon in me or my self-diagnosed ADD. Who knows.
The first 30 to 40 minutes was focused on mastering my breathing, making an S sound when I exhaled to ensure I was breathing out as thoroughly as I was breathing in … after awhile it felt like I’d been sniffing Vics vaporub for a few hours.
I flipped to the chapter on hips and legs and followed all of the exercises, of which there were only five, but it still took me over an hour to complete them … very time consuming. But if it works, I won’t be complaining, I’ll be running.
So worth it!

2 thoughts on “Miracle therapy or desperation?”

  1. Pingback: City runner taps into her country roots «

  2. robert Freeman

    Well, I’m thoroughly confused. I was going to leave a comment about your country roots (peloton? you actually thought readers would know what a peloton is!!?) but there wasn’t a comment place to be found!! So, I’m leaving my comment here – and I’ll probably follow up in the newsroom. But the blog was delightful and so were the pictures. Princess O’ Pavement!! 🙂

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