In her recent interview with Hanne Blank Amber at Body Positive Yoga joined a 100 days challenge, saying, “I’ll be committing to move my body every day for at least 30 minutes, whether that’s walking, swimming, dancing, lifting weights, or practicing yoga.”
As I was reading, my thoughts on that went like this — in order:
That’s awesome!
I don’t think I could do 30 minutes every day for 100 days.
I mean, sure, most days — but every day?
Well, what do I do when I can’t run or practice for a full 30 minutes that day?
Wait, there have been days like that. What have I already done?
So I thought it might be fun to start an intermittent series of “five minute” yoga options. While I’m not going to say that each one can be done in exactly five minutes, they will be options for folks who have very limited yoga time.
Of course, now that I’ve prefaced the whole thing as coming from ideas about movement, the first five minute option I’d like to include has little to do with whole body movement — though there is some movement involved in respiration.
Because, pressed for time, one of the first “yoga” things I will do is some alternate nostril breathing. While allergies and sinus problems make this challenging and often noisy, I find the breath practice itself immensely useful for calming, focusing, and just feeling like I’ve taken some “me time.”
[Jennifer Kostel instructing for Expert Village. Video via YouTube.]
I’m not claiming alternate nostril breathing is magic — if it were, I’d be able to do it with far fewer boogers — but I do find it at least somewhat useful for being with chronic pain as well as for trying to be here through a PTSD trigger. Plus, if I hold my fingers just right, it looks like I’m picking my nose — which of course I think is hilarious.
Another post in the daily yoga challenge for anyone who’d like additional suggestions. With this update, I’m being cutesy and going with a hot and cold theme.
Day 9: Ujjayi Breath:
Sometimes translated as “victorious breath” or “conquering breath,” this is probably the pranayama I (along with a lot of other US yogis?) use most often. Since it helps create heat in the body, it’s often used at the beginning of an asana practice to warm the body faster than it would otherwise. And since it creates an audible sound (at least audible to the breather), it can help focus the mind for meditation, while seated or during a vinyasa practice.
[Video by Amy Patee via YouTube.]
And as the video suggests, now that it’s getting colder (yes, even in the desert, it gets colder), I’m starting to use this pranayama to help loosen up my low back and hips in the morning after they’ve “frozen” in place all night. (They do not actually freeze, but I often sleep pretty curled up, moreso during the colder months, and the muscles do start to feel clenched in those positions.) While I usually try to combine morning breath work with movement, the pranayama is one thing I can do even when my movement options are limited (in the car, carrying lots of stuff, etc.).
Day 10: Sitali Breath
Like ujjayi breath can be used to warm the body, sitali pranayama can be used to cool the body, whether more physically (in a hot room or on a summer day) or more emotionally (feeling flushed from anger or embarrassment).
[Video from purejaiyoga via YouTube.]
I don’t have much cause for cooling pranayama this time of year, but I thought it was a nice complement suggestion to the ujjayi. Also, curling my tongue into a straw feels cool.
Because it’s Friday and I deserve it. Also because apanasana is a great way to move into an asana focus on the erector spinae.
Apana is the term for the force that removes “stuff” from the body — where “stuff” can mean breath, urine, feces, menstrual fluid, or negative energy. (And probably other stuff too. That list is not intended to be all-inclusive.) Apana is generally regarded as originating in the lower chakras and/or pelvic floor, which then might explain why apanasana primarily involves the movement of the low back and pelvis.
One short-term physical benefit of apanasana is that it offers a supported way to stretch and start to move the low spine without putting a whole lot of stress on the body. This can be a great way to send blood flow to the back muscles and to generally circulate fluids around the body. In the longer term, apanasana may also be involved in other benefits to the physical and energy bodies:
I’m also just going to throw this in here as an aside: While a long-standing practice has done a lot for me physically and mentally, I’m not going to pretend I think it’s a magic cure-all for all people or any given condition. That said, I do think it’s worthwhile to approach ideas with an open mind (open critical minds and open skeptical minds do count!) and for folks to work with those ideas in a way that best serves them.
A variation of the pose involves moving the knees in a circle (repeating both clockwise and counterclockwise), still in connection with the breath. I tend to like this variation because I can adjust my thigh position so that my sacrum is always on the ground and the circular movement massages it, which relieves some of my pelvic tension and sacroiliac joint pain. YMMV with that, of course, but it’s not a bad thing to play with.
Finally, apanasana (either variation) can be a good counter pose either after or in between backbends. So, something to remember for later.
I’ll admit it. I’m a little bit “over” core strengthening, or at least abdominal strengthening, for the moment. One aspect of yoga is equanimity, a sort of inner calm. And I have reached a point, both physically and verbally, where the best act I can take to maintain my inner calm is to give my abs a freaking break.
One asana that tends to make my abs — and the rest of my body — happy is setu bandhasana (or setu bandha sarvangasana, depending on how you know it), or bridge. I get to lie down, for starters. Plus, my fullest expression of the pose is awesome for stretching the front side of my body while entering and exiting the posture massages my back. It’s win-win-win.
In its basic, static, unsupported form, bridge is a reclined backbend that looks something like this:
I start by checking that my feet are placed properly, under my knees. If they’re too far away, I won’t have the alignment to use my legs as a base of support, making my low back do the work of balancing my legs out in space in addition to doing the work of lifting me up. Not cool to ask my low back to do such multitasking, especially not with multiple large muscle groups.
Next, I check that my feet and knees are the appropriate distance away from my torso. Even after working with this pose for a decade, “appropriate distance” is something that changes day to day, even if it’s only by an inch or two. And that inch does matter. Bringing my feet in closer increases the opening in my front body, but it also increases the compression and muscle work in my back. While I can probably safely do most variations of bridge, that doesn’t mean every expression of the pose is right for my every day.
Once I’ve checked that my base of support is solid (which, to note, is a little more involved that I talk about here — it is a good idea to read up on a given backbend if it’s not part of your practice), I curl up my spine bit by bit. I’m not able to picture it vertebrae by vertebrae as some yogis suggest, but I can visualize it in spinal sections. First my tailbone and sacrum tilt toward my pubic bone. Then my lumbar spine rolls up, extending some but not so much that I feel and pinching or strain in my low back. Next, my thoracic spine rolls up, extending so its curve moves toward straightening out. Here’s where I like to double check that the movement is leading from my heart center, meaning my cervical spine (my neck) is staying relaxed. I think it must be moving some, just based on my understanding of how the spine works, but I check to make sure it doesn’t feel strained or compacted in any way.
All of these check-ins** happen with any expression of the pose I use. The main thing I’m checking for is that I’ve supported myself in such a way as to keep my spine comfortable and safe.
In some expressions of setu bandhasana, that support may come from the use of props:
I’m a fan of restorative bridge on days when I’ve already done a lot of backbending or other back strengthening work — or when I’m just really tired. Using props can also make the pose more accessible (for example, in the case of someone with a shoulder injury or someone with limited leg mobility). Other versions of supported bridge include using bolsters (differently), blocks, or hands and arms. My personal prop favorite involves a block under my sacrum with my legs outstretched.
Any my current favorite of all the “stretchy” bridges (as opposed to the back-strengthening bridges or heart-opening bridges) in my practice is what’s sometimes called rolling bridge, shown in the first part of this video:
Physically, I like it because it lets me maximize my stretch, at least for a moment, without stressing my spine (because I’m massaging my spine for longer than I’m asking it to support me in a static pose). I also like it as a pranayama exercise because it’s a good way for me to articulate breath with spinal movement.
There are certainly other expressions of setu bandhasana; I like them and use them sometimes. But where I am right now in my practice, these restful and rhythmic versions are what serve me as core strengthening counter poses.
** In some form or other. If I do a version of bridge where my knees aren’t bent and/or the soles of my feet aren’t on the floor, I might be checking the alignment of my thighs bones with my hip sockets. Or instead of lifting my own spine, I might be checking that I’ve positioned my props in such a way as to safely and comfortably support me in the pose.
Continuing our series on core awesomeness, if you think about your core as a box, the diaphragm is the lid on that box. It’s a large dome-shaped muscle that attaches to the lower portion of the ribcage and separates the chest cavity from the abdominal cavity.
When the diaphragm contracts, it flattens down and moves outward. Its natural function is to do this during an inhale, which expands the ribcage and therefore the available room in the lungs:
As the diaphragm contracts, it also pushes downward on the abdominal cavity. Since the organs and tissues there have nowhere else to go, the shape of the abdominal cavity naturally pushes out. This is why diaphragm-led breathing is sometimes called “abdominal breathing” or “belly breathing” — not because the abdominal muscles are the engaged cause of the abdominal movement but rather because the passive abdominal expansion is the visible result.
It is in your diaphragm’s nature to be the primary muscle of breath. It is in the diaphragm’s nature to contract and expand, contract and expand, contract and expand pretty much nonstop through both your waking and your sleeping hours. If you habitually breathe from your diaphragm, you are pretty much constantly toning it — in terms of both strength and flexibility — both day and night. In short, you are working (part of) your core in your sleep. How awesome is that?
I am told that, due to the high-stress atmosphere of post-modernity, many people breathe from their chests and do not engage their diaphragms. I spent many childhood years in a church choir, where it was impressed upon me that the Baby Jesus smiled upon diaphragmatic breathing, so I cannot attest to the truth of this. However, assuming it is true, I’d be remiss not to link to/embed some content** instructing folks on how to breathe from their diaphragms, which might possibly be one of the easiest core workouts ever:
Okay, I might actually take that back, at least in part. Diaphragm breathing is a pretty easy core conditioning activity in that it requires little physical exertion, in terms of a single repetition. However, given the sheer number of reps — approximately 12 per minute, with no rests, for the rest of your natural breathing life — that is endurance something fierce.
** The embedded video is part one of a three part series. Part two is here, part three here. The physical postures get progressively more difficult (though none may be particularly difficult for a currently able-bodied person), but the pranayama remains the same.
