Pigeon Variants: Functional Pigeon

I’m about to deviate from the hip series yet again. I know, I know. But I really do think pigeon is a sufficiently involved posture to merit some further exploration. As a starting point, I keep going back to Yoga Anatomy’s assertion that the piriformis is stretched the most when it’s flexed, externally rotated, and adducted.

I investigated the rotation bit here; now I’m interested in adduction versus abduction. I’ve known a number of yoga teachers who teach the posture with the font hip abducted, so the thigh tracks wide of the hip socket. I’ve also known a number of yoga teachers who teach the posture with the front thigh tracking right in line with the hip socket, which — when the thigh is laterally rotated — means the thigh is at least slightly adducted. Most of all, I know a large number of yoga students — me included — who do one or the other (or who — me included — vacillate between options) without really understanding the anatomy behind it.

And while I don’t think the following video gives me complete anatomical understanding (all the tiny little hip rotator muscles? where are they in this abduction versus adduction business?), it is a very good start:

[Hope Zvara instructing. Video via YouTube.]

I’ve done the abdominal and pelvic floor engagement thing for a while, so that part is not exactly new to me. I won’t say I’ve never collapsed into my low back during pigeon, but I’m pretty confident I’ve avoided the error since I first started trying this expression of it. Strange as it sounds on the surface, I’ve found it to be generally unwise to rely primarily on one’s back muscles while entering a deeper backbend. Pelvic floor and abdominal engagement are musts for my king pigeon, and they’ve followed me as default settings into the more common pigeon as well.

As for the femur angle in the socket, that is not something I’d previously considered. I was honestly a little skeptical at first because generally, when my femur hits against part of its socket — hello, bound angle! — I feel it very locally inside my hip socket, rather than in, say, my sacrum or sciatic nerve. But then I went, “Hey, isn’t it you who does not understand about the interplay between hip flexion and rotation and adduction and all that stuff? Why don’t you maybe shut up and try it?” And so I did.

Because when I even tell myself to shut up, I probably mean business.

And you know?

It did feel different.

Before, I would never have described the hip-abducted version as “pinching” — and to be fair, I probably still wouldn’t — but the sensation was definitely more localized compared to the adducted version. That is, for a hip-abducted pigeon, I feel the sensation almost exclusively in the band right around my hip crease. There is sometimes mild sensation along my glute and/or my IT band — but it’s not always present, and if it is, it’s never particularly noticeable.

With the hip adducted version, the overall intensity level decreases. However, I’m not sure if that’s because the sum total of the sensation is less or because it’s spread out over more butt. Er, more muscle and surface area. This is the version I feel predominantly in my glutes — couldn’t say which ones, maybe all three — somewhat in my hamstring, and somewhat along my IT band.

I have to say, the adducted version did feel more productive for me. It’s easier to feel the muscle relaxing, and with a longer hold, I end up with more purposeful shape changes, moving deeper into the posture. I also find that I have less fidgeting and less of an impulse to fidget.

My only complaint is one of proportions. With the abducted version, my torso ends up folding over my lower shin in an uncomplicated fashion. No big deal. However, with hip adduction, there’s boobs and belly and thigh all trying to make peace with a forward fold. I still have some sorting out to do there.

Summer Practice

Our school year is winding down. With final exams and graduation and summer break comes a disruption in our after school yoga routine. It doesn’t inconvenience me personally very much since I have an established home practice and meaningful access (i.e., time, funds, and transportation) to a number of yoga studios in my city. The same is not true for all my yoga students, so I shouldn’t have been too surprised when one of them commented to me, “I’d like to keep practicing over the summer, but I’m not really sure what to do. Like, I can do the poses, but I don’t know how to put them together.”

Which I think is a pretty common issue, knowing individual poses but being uncertain as to how to sequence a whole asana practice. So I put this together as a basic framework for my students and anyone else who wants it. The idea is that there are basic categories and specific examples; they can use the specific examples as they are, or they can choose to substitute in different poses within the category as they see fit. Additionally, as they become more comfortable in their home practice, they can choose to emphasize or de-emphasize different categories according to what they need that day.

I’ll also note here — The categories and example postures I used were listed with my current students in mind. While they’ve had limited yoga instruction (generally, our class only, and not even every week) and run the spectrum of levels of fitness, they also tend to be young, able-bodied — and to practice asana while they are free of any temporary physical injuries. Even though I think it’s a good basic sequence for them, it is not a one-size-fits-all practice.

Centering — The point of centering is to bring your attention to the practice you’re about to do. It might be where you let go of whatever happened earlier that day or whatever lists you have of things yet to do. It might be where you take stock of how you’re feeling, what you need today — and to set an intention. It will probably be a posture you hold for several breaths. I am a big fan of child’s pose for centering, but a lot of people use easy seated or sometimes constructive rest.

Warm Up — The point of a warm up is to put your body gently through its ranges of motion. This warm up focuses mostly on the spine, with a little going into the upper arms and legs. If your practice is going to ask a lot of a particular body part, it’s a good idea to include that body part in the warm up.

• Traditional cat and cow, 5 rounds.
• Lateral cat/cow or wag the dog, 5 rounds.
• Twisted child’s pose, 5 breaths on each side.
• Down dog, with any movement you need, 5 breaths.
• Then step forward into uttanasana and ardha uttanasana for 3-5 breaths.

Sun Salutations — They’re an excellent way to get the blood flowing, they help stretch and strengthen a lot of the body’s muscle groups, and they can be a complete physical work out on their own. I’m going to suggest 5 rounds of Sun Salute A for this practice because it’s one of the ones with the fewest steps, making it mentally less complicated.

Standing Postures — In addition to building lower body strength, standing postures are good for helping you feel grounded and stable.

• Starting on the right side, try — each for 5 breaths — warrior 2, reverse warrior, side angle, and triangle. If you need to hold for fewer breaths, do. If you need to take a break, do. I just picked 5 because that’s the number I’m using for this sequence. You know, for consistency’s sake.
• Take a wide legged forward fold, as deep or as shallow as is comfortable, for 5 breaths.
• Repeat the sequence on the left side. Probably repeat the forward fold, too. It’s kind of awesome.

Balance Postures — I am pretty sure that we practice balance postures to teach us humility. Or that every day is different. Or to focus only on the present moment and not live outside of our bodies. Or that falling on our butts is way comfier than falling on our faces. You pick.

• Tree pose (any variation) or any other standing balance you want, 5 breaths on each side.
• Since crow seemed to be a favorite, try that. Maybe 2 rounds, 5 breaths per round. That way, if you’re not getting up in the balance yet for whatever reason, you can try one round lifting just the right toes up, and the next round lifting just the left.

Backbends — Your back should be reasonably warmed up from sun salutes, and so this would be the time to do whatever your deepest backbend of the day (or deepest backbends, plural) is going to be. They’re really good to counter all the forward bending — sometimes “slouching” — that we tend to do. But because backbends also tend to be energizing poses, they’re maybe more appropriate here than at the very end of a practice. I like camel and bow about equally well for this, but there’s no reason bridge, wheel, locust, or cobra wouldn’t work for it instead. Whatever version you choose, maybe start by doing 2 rounds, 5 breaths per round. Rest in between to give your spine a chance to decompress.

Seated Poses — This is the part of the practice where we start winding down, so things here start to be about going slower and working less. To that end, I’m going to suggest fewer poses and longer holds from this point forward. If at any point, you want to stay in a posture longer than I suggest, go for it.

• A simple seated twist, for 5-10 breaths on each side, to relieve any tension that might have arisen in the backbend. If you’ve done a gentler backbend, a deeper twist may be a good idea; if the backbend was at your edge, a gentler twist is probably in order.
• Bound angle pose, the standard yang variety, for 10 breaths. Then the yin version for another 10.

Inversions — In terms of yoga philosophy, we practice inversions to reverse the flow of gravity and to move lymph back throughout the body. In everyday life, I practice inversions because it feels fun to be upside down.

• For the most part, legs up the wall is a safe and solid inversion to hold for 10 or so breaths. If something like shoulderstand or headstand prep feels right to you, then feel free to substitute that in instead. Or do a little of the more strenuous inversion followed by legs up the wall. You pick.

Supine Poses — To bring the body toward final relaxation. My suggested sequence:

• Lying spinal twist, any flavor, 10 breaths per side.
• Any last movements or postures your body wants or needs.
• Savasana.

So that’s a practice that takes me about 30 minutes without savasana (or about 35 with), which is a time that I find manageable on most days. However, length can be subtracted by reducing hold time or removing some postures; similarly, length can be added by increasing hold time or adding additional postures. As a framework, it’s meant to be played with. So play.

Found It!

From here, regarding the lengthening of the lateral rotator muscles in a pose where the front leg is laterally rotated.

I have found the answer, at least as it relates to the piriformis. Because the other deep rotator muscles have nearby locations, I would not be surprised if a similar explanation applied to them as well.

Bottom line? Flexion makes it happen.

[Dr. Joe Muscolino instructing for learnmuscles. Video via YouTube.]

Essentially, in anatomical position — think: a biology class skeleton hanging from a hook — the piriformis (and other lateral rotators) do externally rotate the thigh. In anatomical position, the origin of the piriformis on the sacrum is also basically in a straight line with its insertion point on the femur.

However, when the hip is flexed — as is the case with the front leg in pigeon — the piriformis (I do not know about the other deep rotators) ends up wrapping around the front of the hip socket. In a way that’s only clear to me when I view it, contraction of the piriformis at that point actually stimulates medial (internal) rotation. In that situation, external rotation actually stretches it.

TL;DR — It’s complicated.

Hip Yoga: Let’s Talk about Pigeon

I’m well aware that I’ve talked about pigeon before, but as it’s pretty much the pose associated with external hip rotation — which is an overly simplistic view of asana — I figured it couldn’t hurt to talk about pigeon again, this time probably adding in variations.

Though maybe the variations are best addressed in a different post. The “starting point” pose is involved enough on its own.

[Cindy Mastry instructing for Livestrong. Video via YouTube.]

Interestingly, according to my copy of Yoga Anatomy (which, there is apparently now a second edition — damn, my bank account did not need to know this), the primary external rotator working in the front leg is the gluteus maximus. For reasons of anatomy I don’t yet quite understand, the other rotating muscles appear to be primarily lengthening here, particularly in the folded forward version of the pose.

Best as I can tell right now, this has something to do with the different motions of the hip joint — internal v. external rotation, yes, but also flexion v. extension and abduction v. adduction — and the interplay between them. Why does it look like I’m off to do yet more anatomy research and then report back?

Kickass Gentle Sequence

It’s that time of the school year again. The time when I am acutely aware of how many days and hours and brain cells I’ve put in but when we’re not close enough to think about being almost done. Past experience tells me there is a light at the end of the tunnel, but I’m not quite close enough to see it yet.

It’s draining. In the classroom, we’re doing some of our most difficult academic work of the year. In the boardroom, budgets are being decided: who will get less, who will get even less. In the offices and orientations and after school clubs and upcoming summer programs, everyone wants something from me.

It’s especially important for me to be gentle with my practice right now, to use yoga as a time to give back — energy, grounding, peace, security — to myself.

I’m really loving this sequence right now. While it is gentle for me, it’s also a combination of some flowing movements, some stiller postures, and some even longer held yin poses. Additionally, with a little bit of heart opening and a little bit of standing work — but nothing too ambitious — it’s a sequence I find energizing as well as grounding.

Since I like it so much — and since I may not be able to think of much else to write for the foreseeable future — I thought I’d put it here.

Kickass Gentle Sequence:

1. I start with a backbendy version of reclined bound angle, though I like my back block horizontal and my head block on “low.” But different people will adjust for different bodies and preferences. I hang out here for 1-2 minutes, maybe longer if, you know, inertia.
2. Then a few rounds of a modified vinyasa that goes: child’s pose –> inhale to all fours –> exhale and lower to the floor –> inhale to cobra –> exhale back down –> inhale back to all fours –> exhale to child’s pose. I come back to this a few times, so, yes, it’s probably worth writing out here. For a first pass, I think I do maybe 3 repetitions.
3. A variation of child’s pose with my arms crossed rather high up, like the first stage of eagle arms. It’s an awesome shoulder stretch, and I want to be sure to credit this video from Ekhart Yoga as my source. I stay here for maybe a minute on each side with a round of the above mentioned vinyasa in between.
4. This knee down side plank with some shoulder circles, both because I like the movement in my upper body and because moving the arm while keeping the rest of the body stable is an interesting balance challenge. I do maybe 5 arm circles, take another kneeling vinyasa, and repeat on the other side.
5. A lunge flow that rocks between low lunge and half hanumanasana for 5 rounds, then holds the forward bend for 5 breaths, then moves into this twisting quad stretch. With a strap if my hand does not reach my foot that day. (It varies.) I hang out in the final stretch for about a minute — because both my quads and my spine heart it — then vinyasa and do the other side.
6. Down dog for 5 breaths, usually bending my knees or pedaling my feet. After that, some down dog twist for 5 breaths on each side.
7. I come standing at the top of my mat and take a few rounds of half forward fold to forward fold. Usually some number between two and eight feels good to me. But whatever.
8. A standing balance series that goes: padanghustasana, then revolved open toward the raised leg, then twisted (though of course, I still do the bent-knee variation; this is a gentle practice, after all).
9. Back to the floor: Usually it’s through forward fold, down dog, and hands and knees. Occasionally, I get the thought to add a conventional vinyasa in there, but it absolutely works fine without.
10. Moving into yin, some cat pulling its tail. Like in the lunging quad stretch, a strap is an option here, though I tend not to want it as much as I do in the kneeling posture. Also because the motion is largely the same as in the lunge variation — though the relationship to gravity is different — I don’t always stay for the full 3-5 minutes yin suggests, though I do always stay for at least 2 (and often 3). As you may have noticed a pattern forming — yes, I take a kneeling vinyasa in between and repeat on the second side.
11. Some yin deer, though I’m sure pigeon would be a fine substitute for people who prefer it here. As it happens, I tend to take this pose in fairly pigeon sort of way, folded forward over my front shin — which creates for me a strongish stretch in the outer front hip (though not as strong as pigeon with the back leg straight) and a lighter stretch along the front of the back hip. Again, here for 2-3 minutes, then modified vinyasa to the other side.
12. After one last kneeling vinyasa, it’s time for some reclining poses. Keeping with the yin timeline, I probably stay in each one here for another 2-3 minutes. First, I take legs up the wall — with an actual wall if at home, on a block if in class (we do not have wall space for all of us). Then back to supta baddha konasana. Then it’s time for savasana — or maybe I just stay in the bound angle. It varies.

While this is a gentle practice for me, I suppose I should point out that it’s not a particularly short practice. It ranges from about 40 minutes to just under an hour, depending on exactly how long I’m holding the poses. (So it’s not exceedingly long, either — but it’s not a quick practice.) I kind of like it that way, actually. Just because I’m doing less in terms of physical intensity doesn’t automatically mean I should be doing less in terms of creating time for myself.

Inversions and Blood

I know lots of people with Opinions on yoga and menstruation. Some believe that a gentle, restorative practice — like this one, for example — is generally the way to go. There are folks who see no reason why periods should cause people to deviate from their normal practices. (There’s a substantial overlap here with those who say things like “just cramps” and “excuse,” which of course render me prone to fits of ragecaps.) Then again, others — including most of the real life menstruating yogis I know — are pretty solidly in the “it’s complicated” camp.

But even in that camp, opinions can shift again on the specific topic of inversions. Again, some think inversions should be entirely avoided while others differentiate: types of inversions, length held, overall effect of the menstrual cycle on the yogi. I’m probably giving myself away, but I’m definitely in the latter category.

When I can manage it, I like a fairly vigorous asana practice on my period, for a lot of reasons. Because that’s the kind of practice I prefer generally. Because there are days when I can’t manage it. Because there are certain quantities and qualities of work that are engaging enough that they help shift my focus away from certain quantities and qualities of pain. Because keeping some semblance of normal can be therapeutic.

Keeping with that, hellacious though my periods may be, I don’t view them as an inherent reason to keep my pelvis right side up. On the other hand, I don’t do a whole lot of inversions in my home practice generally. So “not avoiding” inversions on my period doesn’t automatically mean I am spending seven to fourteen days of my life constantly upside down. By and large, blood gushing and not, the inversions I encounter are the ones an instructor offers during a class.

And then? I judge on a case by case basis.

If my mat is not pooled in sweat and I am not in accidental kicking distance of my neighbor, I usually choose to take the inversion. The ones in my regular practice are not super strenuous for me, so if I’ve had enough energy to go through a physically active practice, I probably have enough energy to safely and appropriately take an inversion — with or without menstruation.

Headstand in particular is a pose for me that can be extremely therapeutic and focusing. It isn’t always, but when it’s right, it’s right — and I think I could do worse that to trust that intuition.

For people who are concerned about retrograde menstruation and pelvic congestion as it applies to me: I’ve had endometriosis pain and ridiculously heavy periods since menarche, five years before I started practicing yoga — and maybe about seven since I started going upside down. I’d estimate that I practice inversions during menstruation for approximately one to three minutes every two to three months. While it is possible that this is contributing to the endo, it’s also true that endo is a progressive disease in itself. Even if I allow for a causal relationship — which is an “if” — I am pretty darn skeptical about the magnitude of the effect.

Still, every once in a while, I get a glimpse as to the reason for the other perspective. Last MenstroMonster was more or less typical for me, except for one issue: The mere idea of going upside down seemed like the most evil, vile, disgusting thing one could ask of me. To the extent that when my instructor, in a small class, asked a general, “What do you want to do?” I spoke right up.

“Not inversions.”

She laughed. “Is it that time?”

[By Kennguru (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)%5D, via Wikimedia Commons]

Dear Yoga Teachers

Quick Note: This post is a vent involving some yoga studio issues I’ve experienced relatively recently. In no way am I suggesting that it’s representative of what I experience when I enter a local yoga studio. If you’re a yoga teacher and this does not apply to you, then it was probably never meant for you in the first place.

Additionally, for the studios in question, I have already left specific feedback, albeit in a more private, less venty form.

To those yoga teachers who it may concern:

I’m not sure how much this matters, but I try to be a good student. Yes, in the sense of being honest with myself and reflecting on my own practice, but also in the more tangible sense of observing good studio etiquette. I read the information on your websites. I choose a class that will be appropriate for me. I wear clothing suitable for movement and bring the suggested items — mat, towel, water in non-glass container — I predict I will need. I respect each studio’s policies with respect to scents and sounds (talking, cell phones, etc.). I arrive as many minutes prior to class as stated guidelines suggest, and I’m upfront in telling instructors about my physical issues. In short, I’m doing the best I can to help your classes and your studios function safely and smoothly.

However, some of y’all are not reciprocating.

As this is my imaginary letter on my real blog, I am going to offer some suggestions. I would love it if you’d consider them.
First, please practice what you preach. For example, it’s not really fair to be strict about punctuality when it comes to student arrivals while not starting class on time yourself. Your time is important. But my time is important too, and if I’d known you weren’t really going to start your 9:00am class until 9:15, I would not have hauled ass to get there at 8:45 — fifteen minutes early — as your website requests. It’s fine to emphasize punctuality or not, or to ask us to arrive early or not; it’s your call. But if you’re going to expect punctuality from us, then we should be able to expect it from you.

The same goes for scents. I get it. People have allergies; people have sensitivities. People have other breathing problems that can be exacerbated by particulates in the air. And breathing problems in a situation where the breath is emphasized is double plus ungood. It makes sense to have a policy asking students to avoid wearing scented cosmetic or personal care items; it’s for the safety of your students. That said, it needs to apply to scents you bring into the studio as well. I’m not talking about whatever deodorant you may or may not be wearing this class. I’m talking about warming scented oils or burning incense while class is in session. Those scents (and smokes!) have the same potential to trigger breathing issues or other sensitivities. It’s for the safety of your students.

Next, it would be awesome if you’d adjust your pre-planned sequence to the students present. I don’t mean that you should make our personal modifications for us; that’s our responsibility, after all. However, in a class where we are packed like sardines in a can, it might not be such a great idea to call out poses that require a good degree of lateral room. For instance, wild thing. Doing this in a crowded room seems like an excellent way to nail someone in the root chakra. I mean, it’s one thing to offer up such a pose if there’s generally space available — and if a single pair of folk are spaced unfortunately, this is their own problem and fixable by the students themselves. But when the no space issue is true for the class as a whole, is this not maybe tempting fate?

Same goes for the phrase “if you fall, you fall” during any inverted balance posture. It’s fine to laugh off falling: for lots of people, this is an acceptable risk. It’s decidedly less cool to laugh off the possibility of falling on someone else, someone who may be recovering from an injury, who may be dealing with a chronic condition, or who may just not like a foot thwacking them in the face. While it’s certainly not your responsibility to account for every single movement of every single student, I don’t think it’s unreasonably to want a teacher who sets safe parameters for the group as a whole.

Finally, it would be super awesome if some of you would step it up when it comes to respecting your students’ bodies and boundaries. Though I appreciate the fact that physical adjustments are often a part of class, I would love if more teachers communicated about the adjustments in advance. I realize this is not the most popular of opinions, but I’m not a fan of the “adjustment status quo” as I’ve experienced it in classes. That is, I wish more teachers would ask before touching instead of assuming that touching is okay unless they hear otherwise.

I get it. We live in a culture that does not, in practice, value bodily autonomy or consent. There are problems with that. In a perfect world, y’all would become part of the solution. To ask, “May I…?” takes approximately a second or two. To receive a response would take a second or two longer. True, you may not get to as great a quantity of adjustments in any given class, but at least you could be sure that each adjustment was wanted.

However, I also understand the harsh reality that the world does not actually operate according to my ideals. While I don’t necessarily like it, I’m pretty sure that the adjustment status quo will remain that students should be open to physical adjustments and touching unless they specifically state otherwise.

That said — and this one is a deal breaker — I do specifically state otherwise, either orally to the teacher or via my intake card. Often — not the majority of times, but a reasonable estimate is one in every three new classes — this “please ask before you touch me” boundary is ignored.

This.

Is.

Bad.

Like, bad enough that I am reduced to monosyllables. I cannot explain it terribly more, only — As a person with nerve damage, it is bad because it has the potential to make me fall, which can injure me. As a person with chronic pain, it is bad because it has the potential to hurt me in and of itself. As a person with PTSD, it is bad because it has the potential to destroy my trust in you.

You are not obligated to care about any of these things, of course, but it is what it is. And it does seem like if you’re going to ask me to abide by what is a reasonable social contract, I might ask you to do the same.

Hip Yoga: Let’s Talk About Angles

Specifically, side angle. It’s a pose I’ve been loving lately, and not in a “love to hate” kind of way. Conveniently enough, it is also a pose that works the external hip rotators — particularly for folks whose front knee tends to want to cave in.

In utthita parsvokonasana, it’s the front leg that’s rotating externally. In this case, it means the piriformis, both obturator muscles, and the gemelli are working — along with the gluteus maxiums, which also acts as a rotator muscle here.

[Chelsey Korus instructing for Howcast. Video via YouTube.]

Observations about this pose from the perspective of lateral hip rotation:

First, the front leg hip rotation is of the same variety as the front leg experiences in warrior two. However, lengthening the torso over the front leg shifts the pose’s center of gravity forward, which can increase the intensity of the hip and other front leg work. So I’m guessing that if there are folks out there for whom any variation of the side bend is just not a viable option, warrior two might be a good alternate pose, particularly as hips and thighs maybe become happier about extended side angle.

Of variations, there are a number:

• With the bottom arm pressing off of the top leg. This is generally the option I take during my first side angle of the day. The hip flexion is less, which means — at least for me — the amount of force on the rotator group is also less.
• With the bottom hand on the inner side of the front leg, either on a block (any height) or on the ground. This is the version I take most option, largely because I like the practice of using my bottom arm to help press my thigh outward.
• With the bottom hand outside the front shin, either on a block (any height) or on the floor. This is actually the version that brings the most work to my rotator muscles. In the previous version, with my arm pressing my thigh out, a good portion of the work is in my arm. In this version, the movement is one hundred percent hips.

If the variation of the front leg decides the intensity of hip rotation, the anchoring of the back foot is what “locks it in” for me. Now, I’m not entirely sure why this is because I’m not entirely sure what the muscles are doing. To the best of my discernment, I think that if my back foot does not ground completely, my tendency is to support my weight more with my bottom arm, which then allows my front thigh to adduct and rotate inward. Keeping a lot of strength in my back leg makes it more difficult for my front knee to just flop anywhere.

Finally, while the arms are maybe not as crucial to my pose as are the legs, that doesn’t mean the arms have no impact at all. As mentioned, I can use my bottom arm either to guide my leg out or as a way to inform myself that I’m moving the leg out on my own. I can lift my bottom arm from the floor so that my torso and legs, including my lateral hip rotators, are supporting more of my body. Even — fun challenge — I can lift my bottom arm so it is parallel with my spine and my top arm.

But you know, that last one… it’s a lot of work.

That Yoga Moment

In class.

When the teacher forgets the long-held, quad-burning warrior two on the second side.

Rapid, fleeting eye contact with the other students in the room tells you they noticed this, too.

Channeling all the positive energy in the room, you all make an unspoken pact never to speak this omission aloud.

And breathe a collective sigh of relief when she moves on to the next sequence.

Dear Lululemon

I get that you don’t want to sell clothes that fit me. While it would be fabulous for you not to send a de facto message that I don’t (or shouldn’t) exist, you’re well within your rights to sell whatever items of clothing you like in whichever sizes you please.

However.

It’s a little much to ask me to support your business, even if the new store in town will have snacks at its grand opening.

Furthermore.

While I’m not generally in favor of telling people how to feel, I’m going to make an exception one time because this is sort of the point of the whole letter.

Because.

You should not feel surprised when I tell you (or your new store representative) that I have no wish to support a company who has taken no steps to include me.

You get to make choices, certainly. But decisions have consequences, and that one was foreseeable.

Five Minute Yoga: Legs on the Couch

Please do not be shocked at my revelation here: There is no actual yoga asana called “legs on the couch.” However, I’m not referring to lying any old way on a sofa — though that has its place in life too.

Rather, I’m talking about my very favorite way to take savasana. Though now that I think about it, it’s more like a combination of mountain brook pose and legs up the wall.

Basically, it involves scooting my hips and thighs up near the base of my couch, resting my lower legs on the couch, and reclining with my upper body. It ends up looking a lot like this except with, you know, a couch instead of a chair. Unlike legs up the wall, my thighs aren’t vertical in this pose, but I think that’s primarily a function of leg length and couch height and will vary for different people.

I like two things about this pose especially. One is that my legs feel more supported than they do either in legs up the wall or in constructive rest (with knees bent and feet flat on the floor), so it’s easier to relax that part of my body. The other is that my lower back feels more supported than it does in a traditional savasana, so it’s easier to relax that part of my body. Also my upper back is supported — which happens in other poses but is still a big deal to me since it’s a place where I carry a lot of tension.

For those reasons, not only do I like legs on the couch as a final relaxation pose — but I also like it any time I have five minutes and need to relax.

Rotator Stretch for Tight Hips

You remember, like, a month ago when I last talked about the hip anatomy series, right? Right? Well, erm, if you need a minute to refresh your memory, I cannot say that I blame you. It’s been a while.

Part of that is because I’ve been consumed by real life stuff and endo blogging, yes. But part of that is because finding poses that focus on rotator muscles is tricky business — at least when it comes to poses I haven’t already discussed in the hip series. And part is because my rotator muscles are among the more persnicketty ones when it comes to interacting with endo pain, which means that experimenting with such poses is often not the most delightful task.

All of which is a meandering explanation for why I haven’t written in so long and why I’m about to detail what looks like a fairly simple pose — and is in fact a pose I have covered before. However, while I looked at internal thigh rotation as it helps contribute to spinal alignment then, I didn’t look at what the internal rotation was doing in the hips themselves.

[Cathie Ryder instructing for Expert Village. Video via YouTube.]

For me, I know now that examining this hip rotation is something worth doing because it’s something that I do easily a dozen or more times, not just during the course of an asana practice, but also during the course of my regular day. From what I’ve seen from other yogis, that whole “pull the butt cheek flesh away from the floor” thing is a pretty common component of most seated poses, though I’m not sure it’s always done with attention to hip rotation.

In staff pose, the gluteus maximus — you know, the big butt muscle — is lengthening, along with the rotation-specific piriformis, obturator internus, and gemelli muscles.

I’m not sure how many people will actually feel stretching action here. Even as someone who has trouble with internal rotation — perhaps suggesting that some of the muscles involved in external rotation might be tight — staff pose is a pretty gentle stretch for me. On a regular day, at least; after a tough run, however, that may be a different story. Interestingly, the stretch increases the more I prop under my hips. I expect this has something to do with the tilt of my pelvis giving my rotator muscles more room to stretch, but I’d have to get back to you on that.

Yoga Bodies

I had the chance to take my favorite yoga class this morning. It’s an awesome class for me: flow-based and fairly vigorous, with a teacher who offers the less strenuous modifications first and who always asks before physically adjusting a student in a pose. In fact, the worst thing I can say about the class is that it’s at a time when I usually have to be at work — and so when I can easily engineer not to be at work at that time, you bet I’m taking off for yoga.

As such, while I’m not a stranger in this class, I’m not a regular, either. That designation belongs to a small group of women for whom the instructor waits to begin class. (Not in the sense that they show up late, just in the sense that she knows they are coming.) The instructor herself is petite and slim, with visible muscle definition in her arms.

The class itself was wonderful. We got to play with some chair pose flows, some partnered warrior work, and some balances against the wall. While it was a practice that involved a lot of strength-building and while I could feel my muscles working, it was not a practice that pushed me to my physical edge. Which, totally fine and good, since that’s not why I go to class.

But.

On the way out, after rolling up our mats, one of the women said to me, “Now I understand why people who really do yoga have the bodies they do.”

I didn’t respond — because another class was starting, because I was headed to meet someone for lunch, because I just did not want to put myself out there for a stranger — but the statement bothered me then, and it bothers me now. I mean, I don’t want to minimize any insecurity that this person may have been feeling, that she doesn’t “really” do yoga or whatever. But I also think it’s not cool to ask me to affirm that insecurity to her. I deal with plenty of my own.

I’ve been practicing for something over 13 years, on a near-daily basis for most of that time. In that time, I’ve experienced insecurity that I am a “yoga fraud” because:

• At the beginning, I couldn’t do a lot of strength-intensive poses. Also, I got out of breath easily during more cardio-intense classes.
• I practice(d) largely at home with a DVD. Cue added insecurity about using the “wrong” DVD. Also account for technology improvements by including online classes.
• I practice(d) largely at home without a video guide, making up my own sequences.
• I’m not vegetarian or vegan. Moreover, while I care about sustainably grown and fairly traded food products, the majority of the food I purchase is neither. Moreover, I like beer.
• I’m skeptical of a lot of the yoga woo. Especially, I outright reject the woo that looks to be at odds with realities like anatomy.
• I teach a yoga class — granted, free and at my school — but am not a certified yoga instructor.

But most of all, I feel insecure because I do not have a “yoga body.” I mean that in the stereotypical — and limited — expectation of a body that is slim yet muscled, toned but never bulky.

That is not my body. My body has broad shoulders, a busty chest, wide hips, a curvy butt, and thick thighs that interfere with the proportions of some traditional poses and require that I get damn creative — and a little bit awkward — while remaining equanimous about it. My body requires modifications that haven’t been invented yet (okay, maybe “have not been taught on a large scale” is more accurate). My body has fat covering its muscles, which apparently causes people to misjudge how “real” my yoga practice is. Moreover, all the daily practice in the world has not given me a “yoga body” that is closer to the slim, sculpted ideal.

And yet.

This body?

Is the one that shows up to practice with me every day. It is my yoga body. It is the only body I have.

Hip Anatomy: External Rotation

I have not really forgotten about the hip series.

Okay, I may have really forgotten about the hip series. Or at least pushed it to the back burner.

But I’m back and am ready to talk about the external hip rotators.

First off, when I say “external” hip rotation, I’m talking about the hip motion that would turn one’s toes and kneecap out to the side.

Second, there are a couple of muscles we’ve already covered that moonlight as external rotators. They are:

• the psoas
• the gluteus maximus

“Anterior Hip Muscles 2″ by Beth ohara. Own work. Uploaded to Wikimedia Commons on 31 January 2006. Shared via Creative Commons 3.0 License.

There is also a lateral (external) rotator group of smaller muscles that primarily do external hip rotation. They are:

1. The piriformis, which originates on each side of the sacrum and attaches on the top of the femur. I hear a lot about the piriformis in pigeon pose specifically. So, yeah, something to look forward to.
2. Gemellus superior and gemellus inferior. Each extends from the ischium (the “sitting bone” area of the pelvis) and attaches onto the top of the femur.
3. The obturator internus, which actually originates on the inside of the pelvis and wraps around each sitting bone to attach to the back of the femur head on each side.
4. The obturator externus, on the other hand, starts out where the ischium and the pubic bones meet and — like all these rotators so far — attaches to the head of the thigh bone.
5. Finally, the quadratus femoris is a shorter but wider muscle, going from the ischial tuberosity (the actual “sit bone”) to the femur just below the head.

If I’m summarizing correctly, I’m seeing — if I include the psosas and the glutes — muscles that start on the lumbar spine, the sacrum, the ilium, the ischium, and the pubic bones. Those same muscles also attach to the front, top, and back of the femur head; the top of the femur itself; and the IT band.

Is it just me, or is there a possibility that external hip rotation is a complicated process?

Five Minute Yoga: Morning Twist

I think I’ve mentioned before that I tend to sleep all curled into one side, which means various muscles on both sides of my back — and shoulders, abdomen, and hips — are all kinds of stiff come morning. So something like this is good to start to loosen things up.

Instead of holding, I tend to take it in an inhale-up, exhale-down vinyasa. I’m also likely to place a prop under my fingertips. My favorite is the seat of my couch, though a yoga block or two (stacked) would also work for folks who have them readily available.

As I tend to do these at the start of my day, I’m already apt to be like, “Why must I wear pants and why the fuck is there no coffee yet?” So looking around for where I may have misplaced any hypothetical yoga blocks (because I don’t actually have any) wouldn’t work for me.

This twist does, though.

Guest Author: Coming Home

[Notes for discussion of depression, suicidal thoughts, and weight gain.]

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My name’s Zannah, and I’m extremely well-rounded. (Hee!) I studied general science in college, specializing in biology, and my pet areas of interest are skepticism, health, fighting oppression (with mah CAPE!) and sex-positivity. I am particularly engaged with people who have been sexually assaulted or victims of domestic violence, and I identify as a feminist no matter what bugaboos people pull out to scare me with. In fact, I am fearless.

I am only fearless, because, as you may know, pain is fear leaving the body and I have known pain well and thoroughly. It is an old and dear opponent. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia and endometriosis in 2007, after suffering undiagnosed(and unbelieved) for a year. I have chronic severe life-long depression and ADD. (I’m kind of fond of the ADD, actually.) I have a rare brain disease that causes bullshit headaches, plus other fun manifestations. This life, particularly this last year, has been enormously difficult.

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Today I did my first yoga practice in at least three years. I also ran, which I had not been putting off quite so long; only two years or so. I made it ten minutes running, which blew my mind. The yoga sequence was possibly the simplest practice I have ever done: knees to chest, cat-cow, child’s pose, seated wide angle pose, corpse pose. It was incredibly emotional. During child’s pose, I could only take long, shuddering breaths, as though I were sobbing, and tell myself that where I was was good.

To understand this, though, you must know that both yoga and running have been very
important to me and huge markers of my well-being. In the last few years, my world has come crashing down and today I may well be at the lowest point in my life so far. Well, maybe yesterday was the lowest point.

I began my yoga-and-running (Roga? Yunning?) when I was 22, when I simultaneously began having symptoms of endometriosis and fibromyalgia, both of which are marked with chronic pain. I discovered a perverse side I didn’t know existed in me, which said, “I’m going to be in pain no matter what I do? Well, fuck it. I might as well be running.” I signed up for a 10K and trained, and although I wasn’t fast, I won- I finished! I also found that I get the runner’s high pretty easily, which is so delightful; it’s like bouncing along on the moon!

I quickly discovered that the doctors were not much help for the fibromyalgia, so I explored other therapies, including yoga. I don’t know if the yoga helped the fibromyalgia, but I found it profoundly enjoyable and mind-clearing. I developed a fairly serious practice, exploring new poses and trying different varieties of yoga within my limited means. I enjoyed the physicality of it, the peace it gave me, and the challenge of designing new practices.

Through all of this, I struggled with chronic depression. I have never not known depression- I was diagnosed when I was nine. I have had my ups and downs, but even when my runs and my practices weren’t mindbogglingly amazing, they left me satisfied in a way that I didn’t get from anything else. Although I had shied away from activities like these before due to my weight- I have consistently been about 230 lb on a 5’8”, medium frame- I found it to be no barrier. These opened doors for me, doors I had not even seen before.

In 2009, I married. I can’t say what it was- I remember doing yoga while my husband sat on the bed and read the next pose out to me- but something twisted in me, and somehow the things I had enjoyed became stressful. I couldn’t find that peace and that physical satisfaction in yoga any more. It was just painful. I couldn’t muster the energy to go running. There was nothing there for me. The marriage had its problems, and ended in 2011.

Since I left my husband, I have known deep grief and severe depression. I have struggled with suicidal thoughts, over and over until it becomes ridiculous- and terrifying. It’s a matter of pride for me that I have not harmed myself or attempted suicide, although it did take a few stays in the hospital. I’m deeply grateful for my friends and my family, who have been amazing. Still, when I look into my future it’s hazy. Due to medication and depression I’ve gained 80 pounds, which has precipitated bullshit rare health problems. (And also, I have no clothes to wear!) I have wondered if I’ll ever have
my life back- ever be able to move and enjoy things, ever have energy, ever be reliable and not prone to bursting into tears.

So again I say: Today, I did my first yoga practice in a long time. I also did my first run in a long time. They were challenging, but I met that challenge and it was again deeply satisfying. I feel new hope now; not overall, not that my life is magically better. But it’s not a small hope either. Just knowing that I can do this once more eases a huge concern about my abilities and my connection with my body. I’m not the woman I once was. But that’s okay. I’m here now, and as Thich Nhat Hanh says, “Present moment; Wonderful moment.”

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If you’d like to read more of Zannah’s work, you can do so at In the Pink of Nourishment or via Zannah’s Facebook page.

If you’d like to contribute a guest post at Anytime Yoga, you can email anytimeyoga@gmail.com.

Size Frustrations

Dear Unnamed Clothing Manufacturer,

It was, on the whole, a good trip. I shouldn’t complain.

I’m going to complain.

I needed new yoga pants, on account of I have plumb worn out the seams of two-thirds of my current batch, and my bum does not need a window to the world while doing down dog in class. So I went to the one store in town that carries the one brand of activewear that comes in my size.

At this point, I feel it is relevant to emphasize that these are necessarily all with the same brand —

It was a good trip because there were several styles of active pants available in all the sizes I might claim as “mine.” It was, however, frustrating as fuck because in the various styles, I tried — where available — every size from a 16 through a 24. Each and every style ran differently. I found 16s that were too big and 24s that were too small.

Some were too large or too small all over, and that at least made a certain amount of sense in the context of the individual garment.

Some fit or even ran small in the hip but were too large in the waist, which aggravates me personally but which I’ve come to expect. It’s totally possible that a critical mass of yoga pants purchasers have proportions that more closely resemble those reflected in your pants, and my body is the odd one out. I get that.

I do, however, take issue with a couple of proportion decisions on your part.

The first is to sell some styles of pants with absolutely no measurement increase between the waist and the hip. Yes, bodies are different, but the average person purchasing women’s activewear pants will be wider at the hip than at the waist. I’m guessing that most of them will expect mass produced pants to follow this general pattern — especially when you list waist and hip differences in your very own size chart.

The second is to sell some styles — in, just for example, a size 22, which I think would have fit my hips — with thighs that are cut to the exact same width as the thighs on the size 12 of the same style pants. I know; I checked. Where, exactly, do you think my thighs come out of, if not my hips? Again, according to your own size chart, you suggest something like a 9 inch difference in circumference between size 12 hips and size 22 hips, why would you assume that the exact same thighs are proportional to both?

I understand that a company probably cannot mass produce affordable activewear — in any size range — without sizing items toward average proportions for each size, which means that people whose individual measurements vary from that average will experience fit issues. Even so, a lot of your averages seem way the hell off, and I would appreciate it if you would please learn to math.

If that is not feasible, maybe you could change your size charts to read, “Fuck if we know!” instead.

Thanks,
Me

Five Minute Yoga: Splat

Another bit of yoga I love if I only have 5 minutes — especially if those 5 minutes occur toward the end of my day or any other time when my energy level might be low.

Essentially, my process is this:

1. Select any variation of a reclining spinal twist (some options available in the video below). I tend to select one that is gentle enough for me to hold comfortably for a long-ish time. Usually, this does not involve supportive props, but other people’s knees and backs may vary.
2. Hold for 2-3 minutes (I like 3, but to fit inside 5 minutes, it would really have to be 2 or 2:30) on each side.
3. Whole lot of stretching, whole lot of relaxing. Good times.

[Jennifer Kostel instructing for Expert Village. Video via YouTube.]

Five Minute Yoga: Booger Blasting

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:

1. That’s awesome!
2. I don’t think I could do 30 minutes every day for 100 days.
3. I mean, sure, most days — but every day?
4. Well, what do I do when I can’t run or practice for a full 30 minutes that day?
5. 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.

Core Sequence: The Dreaded Sequel

Continued from here.

Modified Sun Salutes:

A lot of the modifications here involve skipping or modifying individual poses in the sun salute. So I’ll go through the poses in smaller segments, noting where I offer verbal alternatives to my students.

1. Chair pose, held for 5 breaths [options: shorter hold, or skip it entirely] to forward fold.
2. Go through a chaturanga/backbend (cobra or updog), or proceed directly to downward facing dog.
3. From down dog, inhale to slide forward into plank; then exhale to slide back into down dog. That’s one. Repeat for a total of 5 [options: fewer reps, just hold down dog, or take a child's pose] plank-to-down-dog-thingies.
4. Step or jump forward. Through uttanasana, come back into chair pose and hold for another 5 breaths [same chair options as before]. Then come to stand.

In class, I lead my students through 2 of these. Alone, I might do 3 to 5. Or not.

Boat:

A few options on boat pose twist [links to video].

1. Option one involves placing the hands behind — for support — and keeping the tiptoes on the ground, also for support.
2. Option two involves placing the hands behind for support but lifting the legs off the ground, as shown in the video.
3. The last option involves lifting both the hands and legs, as shown in the video.

In class, I like to go through 3 rounds of 3 repetitions each in order to give folks the ability to try each option. On my own, I’m more likely to do something like 2 rounds of 5 reps each.

Backbends:

1. A half camel flow, spending one breath on each side, and repeating — both sides — for 3 or so rounds.
2. One or maybe two rounds of full camel (where “full” = “both sides,” not necessarily “hands all the way back to heels”). I say I hold each for around 5 breaths, but I only start counting once I’m fully in the pose — and I take 2 or 3 breaths (or more) to get there.
3. If I’m practicing alone, I might take either kapotasana or wheel pose for the same amount of time. Or not, depending.

Cool Down:

1. Upavistha konasana usually, because it’s my favorite, but another seated (or reclined) forward fold would probably work just as well. The time I stay here totally approximately one trillion years. Or, like, a couple of minutes. You know.
2. A reclined spinal twist. I like to make it an easier — so, for me, less twisty-tangly — spinal twist, so that it’s one I can relax and sink into for awhile. Again, here for approximately one trillion years, half on each side.
3. Savasana.

So, yeah. It can be a lot of hard physical work, but for me, it’s hard physical work in a way that I find fun. I like the balance challenges of the traveling planks and the boat twists. And yes, I fall down reasonably often, but that’s part of what reminds me not to take my hard work so seriously.