So I'm lying on the floor again, with Paul's shoe planted firmly in my upper back (try to explain those footprints to the guy behind you in the Safeway checkout lane) and I'm reaching and twisting, going for upper back mobility and keeping Mr. Twirly Lower Back still. This stretch I understand since I have that honking boot inching up my spine to make sure I don't cheat.
I think Paul ordered this "star" stretch (I feel like a 5-point star) as a 5 minute break since I sorta flunked Supermans.
My shoulder was a little stiff today and the left arm wasn't flying too well. If I were Supergirl I would have been flying in large right-turn circles all day long.
I actually really tried hard because if I couldn't get it right Paul might say
"ok, let's get on the lacrosse ball!"
which he did.
In all fairness, he really does mean "let's" - he gets a lacrosse ball for himself and works on his own back & neck. Of course, he enjoys the rolling around, whereas I feverishly sweat with pain.
The exercise is mind-numbingly painful. In fact, it is painful enough (and mind-numbing enough) that I actually suggested with my own lips that maybe I should go out and push the prowler around instead.
No comments:
Post a Comment