Straw. Camel’s back.

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In my practice, I often ask the question, “Was there an incident that started your pain?  Or did it just creep up on you?”  The answer is very often, “Well, it could be (insert activity here), but I’ve been doing that for years, so I don’t think that’s it.”  But, perhaps, that’s exactly it.

Tissues have a certain amount of force they can withstand before they become injured/dysfunctional/irritated.  This is called tissue tolerance.  The end result of too much force is usually pain.  You see, pain is often the last symptom to appear, not the first.  So, prior to your experience of pain, damage has been done behind-the-scenes for awhile.  If you are body-aware, you may have already noticed this in yourself; perhaps your first perception of a symptom was tightness or decreased strength or lack of range of motion.  But the pain didn’t follow until later.

This process gives us some valuable insights into treatment.  At least, that’s how I see it, and that’s how I treat it.

First, pre-pain symptoms (the above-mentioned tightness, strength, and range of motion) should be watched for and can be used as warning signs to prevent further injury.  Maybe these pre-injury symptoms can be used as healthy reminders to improve your mobility, add in some recovery time, or focus on your nutrition.  Maybe they cause you to re-check your workplace ergonomics or your sleeping positions or your form in the gym.  Maybe they are a signal that your body needs some hands-on treatment.  Listen to those signals, and heed their warnings.

It is much easier to prevent an injury than it is to fix an injury.

Second, just because the pain has disappeared, doesn’t mean that the affected tissues are back to their normal pre-injury state.  This helps to guide my decisions for a patient’s return to activity and give appropriate movement guidelines.  So when I tell you to stop box jumps for the time being, or to raise your computer screen, there’s a method to my madness and science in my reasoning.

The bottom line is this: if you’ve been dead-lifting with a rounded spine for months, or you’ve been sitting at a desk job for years, or you’ve been hunched on your couch with your iPad and “it’s never bothered you before,” doesn’t mean that it won’t bother you now.

Straw.  Camel’s back.  Remember?

straw-camel

Blizzards and Accomplishments

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It was the annual Victoria’s Secret fashion show last week.  Not sure if you watched it, but I did, as I do every year, and this was my view:

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Yes, those are DQ blizzards.  And yes, I realize the irony of watching women with 2% bodyfat parade around in lingerie while downing 800 calories in a single go.  And that’s why I did it.  Because I am about enjoying the simple things in life, like couches and ice cream with my husband.  Because I will never be a Victoria’s Secret model.  Because my body-image has shifted ever-so-slightly over the years.  Because I love blizzards.

I’ve written about my personal struggles with eating disorders, so this isn’t a surprise to many of you.  But the surprising part to me is how my thinking has shifted away from my own struggles, and onto changing those  future struggles for my daughter.  As a mother, I’ve become much more aware of the images that bombard our young girls.  I can now see the damage that photoshop and magazine covers and yes, Victoria’s Secret fashion shows, can do.  Most of us will never be 6 feet tall.  Most of us will never weigh 110lbs.  And yet, skinny is still lauded and valued and praised.  As is height.  And blond hair.  And blue eyes.  And the thing is, I actually have a few of those qualities.  But I don’t have the skinny.  And so my body-dysmorphic thinking only focuses on that.

But instead, I have the strong.

This is a relatively new world for me.  A world where strong is praised and skinny is secondary.  A world where how much you can lift, how fast you can run, how high you can jump, are more important measurements than your 36-24-36.  A world where you can work hard, reach your goals, and keep striving for more.  Where accomplishments are calculated against your own personal bests rather than against external factors that you cannot control.

My three-year-old daughter proudly dressed herself yesterday morning.  When she was done, she went running to find her big brother.  “Look, look,” she squealed, “Look how beautiful I am!  I got dressed all by myself!”  Can you see why her statement is so magical?

Because she measured her beauty based on her accomplishment.

Brilliant.  She thought she was beautiful not because of how she looked, but because of what she could do.

And I’m going to do everything I can to keep it that way.

Project Winter

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My kids are now 6 and 3, rounding the bend to 7 and 4.  Beyond the baby stage, there’s no more naps, no more diapers, no more babies in our house.  And while I may or may not have cried when we took down the crib last year, I am excited for what this new chapter of parenthood brings.  Enter skiing.

I grew up in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains and skied many times a year.  But I wouldn’t say that it ever became a passion of mine; I do love the outdoors and the exercise and the scenery, but the actual skiing part is a medium on my list of loves.  And lately, my distaste for Winter has grown.  You would think that an Alberta-girl would be used to sub-zero temperatures, but my theory is that I got my quota of Winter as a child….. these days I freeze solid in November and don’t thaw out until April.  “Embrace the winter,” my mother says, “there’s nothing you can do to change it.”  Sigh, I’m trying.

You probably already know my views on keeping kids active, and skiing seems like the perfect way to accomplish that goal through our long Canadian winters.  Plus it’s a great lifetime sport, a way to have fun together, and a justifiable excuse for hot chocolate in a ski chalet.  So we’ve made the investment.  My husband and I just purchased full ski gear (Merry Christmas to us!) that we hope will last for many years (as did my previous 1989 Salomons), and we plan to rent equipment for the kids for this, our inaugural ski season.

I’m calling it “Project Winter” and we’ll see who wins the battle between myself and Mother Nature.  We’re embarking on the ski-family journey of two hours to get ready, three runs on the bunny hill, forty-five minutes to complete a bathroom break, and sleeping kids on the drive home.  And if you see my husband, ask him about the time I left him stranded on a ledge at Sunshine Village in Banff….. on the day he proposed…..

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