A Lovely Massage: A Difficult Message

Lying on a massage table on the second floor of an old farmhouse, I’m nervous enough about the deep tissue massage I’m about to receive.  Little do I know that her words, not her fingers digging into my back and shoulders, will hurt most of all.

After about a month of ongoing neck, back and shoulder pain, I have come to see Patti, the neuro-muscular massage therapist, (and, it’s important to note, also a yoga and pilates instructor) recommended by my physician and my good friend, Tara.  Tara’s exact words were, “It hurts worse than labor, but will make such a difference.”

Apparently, my husband was tired of listening to me moan in pain and helping me out of bed in the morning, because even he ordered me to get a massage immediately.  So, I let go of the guilt over spending a good portion of my week’s grocery budget on an hour of pampering, and tried to consider it a medical treatment.  I booked the appointment, and arrived with nervous anticipation.

Filling out a basic information form for Patty, she saw an imbalance in my shoulders immediately.  As she proceeded through the massage, she told me everything she could feel in the mysterious world beneath my skin.  Tight shoulders from slouching over a computer, imbalance in muscle strength from carrying a 32-pound toddler on my hip, and the surprise diagnosis of a loose iliolumbar ligament and S.I. band.  These are the reasons for my recent lower-back problems, which started with a less than stellar boat pose three weeks ago and have plagued me ever since, reminding me of the pain I had when pregnant with my daughter almost six years ago.

All is well. I finally know what’s wrong, why I’ve been hurting, and I’m ready for the suggestions on where to go from here.  (That is, if I survive the “hurts so good” Patti advises I should be feeling as she works through the tension in my back.)

But then she drops a bomb I’m not quite ready to hear.  She tells me that my lower-back stuff is likely the same old injury I sustained in my first pregnancy, when the ligaments surrounding my pelvis were weakened from carrying my daughter, and never fully healed.  According to Patti, yoga, my ultimate mental, physical and spiritual workout, has probably made my condition worse, overstretching these ligaments and preventing their full recovery.  In the simplest words possible, I am to stop my physical practice and focus on strengthening my lower body.

As I grapple with the thought that yoga, the very thing that has made my body feel strong, relaxed and alive, is doing more harm than good, I shudder at the thought of pumping iron with sweaty men at the gym or boring myself to tears with lunges and squats.  I can’t even imagine sticking to such a routine, but I’m somewhat relieved to think that devoting all of my time to running can only help.

I’m not totally convinced.  While I haven’t been practicing regularly since I sprained my ankle in April (a whole other injury!), the mere thought of not being able to pop into a class or use my newly arranged office floor space for yoga is not sitting well.  I live for those peaceful moments when I can challenge myself, then relax into a posture, all the while focusing on my breath and forgetting the world for a while.   I highly doubt those lunges are going to have nearly the same effect.

Yoga teaches us to put the ego aside, and listen to the body.   I just never thought my body would be kicking me off my mat!

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