‘It was yoga that hurt me’
Shula Sarner, a 37-year-old medical writer in New York City, thought yoga would be a “peaceful and gentle” complement to her regimen, which includes weight lifting, kickboxing and marathon running. A former aerobics instructor — and one with a history of rotator cuff injury — Sarner made a point of telling the teacher it was her first class. She didn't mention and wasn't asked about the old injury, which she considered healed.
When the class did headstands, the teacher told Sarner she didn't have to do them. But when a series of Sun Salutations, including multiple Downward Dogs, began to bother her arm, he didn't notice her stopping and stretching. Sarner carried on through the end of the class; her play-through-the-pain attitude had served her well in other activities. “There were people around me of all shapes and sizes, and I figured if they could do it, I should be able to,” she says.
Within a few hours of class, Sarner's left arm was incapacitated, her rotator cuff reinjured. All those sports she thought yoga might complement were off-limits for months. “Here I was, this competitive athlete, and it was yoga that hurt me,” Sarner laments. “If I had to do it again, with hindsight, I'd have stopped doing the poses that bothered me.”
Students need to be wary of a teacher who conveys, either explicitly or through implication, that anyone can do every pose if she only tries. “Many of these positions aren't relevant to every body,” says Gary Kraftsow, author of “Yoga for Transformation” (Penguin). Ashtanga, the popular fast-paced discipline often called power yoga, was originally designed to develop children's flexibility and joint strength, Kraftsow says. Although that doesn't mean a 40-year-old can't build the strength to do it, at that pace, even basic poses such as Downward Dog and Cobra pose will put much more of a strain on her joints than it would on a child's.
Elena Brower, founder of the Virayoga studio in New York City, has made regular trips to other studios to observe teaching styles. “I literally watched injuries happen,” Brower says. “I saw hands that were turned in too far and sinking shoulders just begging for rotator cuff or wrist injuries. Over time, the tiniest misalignment of even a quarter inch can make the difference between something that is injurious and something that is healing.” Alyssa Cooper, a 36-year-old television producer in New York City, put so much stress on her wrist in yoga classes that she developed a painful ganglion cyst (a liquid-filled pouch). A hand surgeon wanted to aspirate it, but a yoga teacher had another idea: better alignment. Five private sessions later, Cooper had learned how to put less pressure on her wrist as well as on an ankle she had injured skiing. The cyst went away on its own. “It's kind of amazing that a few adjustments helped turn something that was hurting me into something that healed me,” she says.
Even without private lessons, it's possible to reap the benefits of yoga and avoid limping off your mat. Look for small classes, taught by an instructor registered with Yoga Alliance. Make sure you inform the instructor of any physical problems you have, and ask her for the modified versions of a pose. A good teacher, Kennedy says, will “teach in stages,” explaining a posture bit by bit, so a student can stop when she is at her personal limit. “If a teacher says, ‘Let's all get into a headstand now,’ a student might feel bad if she can't do it. Instead, I say, ‘Let me teach you how to get in a Dolphin’ ” — which involves the same arm positioning. “I tell them, you can remain right there, if that's what feels right for you today.” Most important, Kennedy says, is to listen to your body. If you find yourself holding your breath in a pose, that's a simple sign you should ease up.
After her stroke, Susan Eaton avoided practicing yoga for roughly a year. “I felt betrayed by yoga, and the hardest thing was to return to my mat,” she says. Rest and medication had helped heal her body. But now she needed to face her fears and regain her confidence.
She did so by becoming a teacher herself — the right way — training for 500 hours over the course of a year and a half with a Yoga Alliance-registered program. “I modify poses like headstands to avoid compression of the spine and hyperextension of the neck,” she says. “And even in poses that don't affect my neck, I don't push anymore. I don't go to that place of uneasiness, and that's what I teach my students. Yoga is about practicing mindfully in your own body — and your body is different from everyone else's.”
