Yoga And My Aging Body

Yoga is for every body, but where is the yoga for the differently abled body?

I have arthritis. While I'm pretty sure it's in every single joint, it's particularly bad in my lower back, hands, hips, and knees.

In addition to this genetic gift, I'm also fat. I must say, it's so much easier to put weight on then it is to take weight off, especially now that I've aged past the half century mark.

I still remember how easily I moved when I was a younger, as if my well oiled joints would never stiffen. I recall the thrum of vitality that accompanied the use of my body as if the muscles would never atrophy, and the lightness I'd feel as if my strength would never decrease.

With all this in mind I decided to take up yoga again. I'd once practised it daily and loved the feeling of my healthy body moving easily. But it'd been fifteen years, fifteen hard working years, since I'd dropped it from my daily routine.

I remembered the basics but really wanted a guide, someone to push me through a half hour class. Way back when, I'd followed a program led by Gerda Krebs on my local television station. She was patient in explaining the poses and made the practice feel gently strenuous. Her program isn't available now so I did the next best thing: I searched Google and checked YouTube.

Disappointment walked up my fingers and settled into my heart. Yoga had somehow become a bit of a competition. Something to do to push yourself to new limits. This wasn't what I was looking for at all. I don't want to compete with anyone and I don't want to feel exhausted at the end of the class. I wanted what I had before, I wanted to feel invigorated from the movements.

I stumbled on a local yoga studio that offered courses online, prepaid and could be viewed anytime. A big bonus was that the leader of these courses was trained by Gerda Krebs. I paid for them and dug out my mat.

It was immediately evident that I was more out of shape than I thought. I bought the beginner's sessions knowing that I'd need a bit of a refresher, but I was surprised at what was considered 'beginner'.

“Sit on the floor, any way you like,” she said from my monitor. Sit? On the floor? Okay. Sure. I can sit on the floor. First I have to get down to the floor. This was an exercise all its own. I ended up having to hold a table and lower myself in the most graceless way possible, but I did it. I was on the floor. Now to sit.

My body remembered sitting cross legged, even sitting with my legs folded under me and my butt on my heels. The most difficult was to sit with my legs extended out in front of me. Now, the most difficult was to sit in any position and keep my back from curling until I resembled a comma.

I couldn't do it. My back would not straighten. My hips had lost every bit of flexibility they'd once possessed. Of the three sitting positions, I had to go for a hybrid of my legs out in front and somewhat crossed. I did the best I could and, sweating and huffing, managed to just about, almost, sit up tall.

“Now stretch your right arm out to the side and place it on the floor, left arm up, and bend to the right.”

Okay, sure. Bending. I remember this side bend as a gentle one.

I absolutely could not lift one arm up and keep my back straight, much less extend the other out to the side. Not even maybe. I modified the movements by keeping my back as straight as possible, breathing slowly, shoulders relaxed, and bent my whole upper self to one side.

The half hour class was a rude wake up call.

Not only was my flexibility nowhere near what I'd assumed it was, but my chubbiness also got in the way. I couldn't twist or bend into some poses because of my belly.

While struggling around the extra weight, I also had to acknowledge the arthritis made some poses difficult, if not impossible. Tabletop position, or on all fours, hurt the arthritis in my knees. Down dog hurt the arthritis at the base of my thumbs. Corpse pose was impossible because my lower back screeched in agony. Plank? Ha! No.

What was particularly distressing was after lying in a modified corpse pose – knees bent, feet flat on the floor – I had to get up off the floor.

First, I had to roll over. Once upon a time this was a simple activity, a log roll in gymnastics. Now, it proved frightening.

I absolutely could not simply sit up, or even push my hands down to get my upper body up. I was almost unable to leverage myself to lying on one side to push myself up, but I managed.

Although difficult, the workout felt wonderful. My body rejoiced in better blood flow and a teensy tiny bit of extra flexibility. The next day, it was incrementally easier to move.

Now, I'm two thirds of the way through my thirty day course. I've taken weekends off to rest and decided to use two mats for extra sponginess. I can now sit cross legged with my back straight for several breaths in a row before gravity reaches up and pulls me down.

Every day is easier, but I'm still not able to do some of the beginner poses as featured. I've pushed through, modifying where needed, and started to understand that there should be some kind of pre-beginner class. Maybe a class for people with mobility issues.

If I can't do some of these poses, me, in a body that only has arthritis but is otherwise intact, how does someone do them if they can't get to the ground? Or if they know they can't get up off the ground? Or if they can't put any pressure on their wrists or knees? Or if they can't bend their knees?

I searched online again and found a few videos for people with reduced mobility but the content was lacking. Most of it was short, three minute workouts or just a link to an article or information page.

Again, if yoga is for every body, why is it hard to find classes for differently abled bodies?