Listen Shakira, you may have vocal prowess, but your Hips Don’t Lie song is simply not true.
My hips from hell have been spouting half-truths, hidden troubles and flat-out lies for decades now—like their general appearance of holding it together when, in fact, they’re tearing me limb from limb.
I’ve known this for some time, mind you. My waist-to-hip ratio would be the envy of Beyoncé and Kim Kardashian wannabes the world over, if the rest of my body would only match.
Instead, I’m left to watch these cheeky witches wagging around out there, regularly bashing into furnishings and making it difficult for me to find pants.
But physiotherapist Jen Gulley—the latest in a long line of professionals who have admirably torn out my core muscles, leg muscles and hip flexors in order to keep my legs moving forward (instead of in, or out or sideways)—has isolated a new curve in their torturous tale.
Apparently, when I knocked my hip out of the socket while flipping off the bars in the school gym (I wasn’t a gymnast) or knocked the other out in a pretty impressive snowboarding accident on Whistler (I’m kind of lousy at snowboarding too), I lost more than my dignity.
I already know my hips don’t fuse to the bottom of my spine properly—x-rays—but now I know my ligaments aren’t doing much to hold me all in either.
My take away from the integration session of our NEUmovement Pilates and Physiotherapy five-week makeover is basically that the one week of physio and tequila to cure the Whistler epic and the two months of crutches and doctors for the gym class accident probably didn’t cut it.
I’m going to need a core with superpowers to hold together; cue the theme songs people—it’s going to be a long road.
For the most part, this little crunch at the core of my body has not been a problem.
I already have a very awesome chiropractor who has kept me pretty close to straight in combo with a lot of core classes.
But after a couple of months off to get adjusted to eating with braces—hmm…I’m sounding like a real winner here; maybe more than my hips should start lying—I have to admit, I think it might be easier to just wait until someone develops bottom torso replacement surgery.
But Gulley thinks she can fix it all for good and the pilates that followed our one-hour session, integrating exercise and therapy, provided a convincing twist on untwisting.
After ungluing muscles and straightening the old pelvis for the umpteenth time, I once again took my crack at turning on my core muscles so I can learn to go straight.
I can do this quite admirably now. The problem is more whether I can use my core while drinking coffee, interviewing someone, paying my bills, drafting up a couple of story ideas and trying to rearrange my work schedule—simultaneously, of course.
Armed with an ‘a’ to ‘k’ list of ways to train my brain to accomplish this one last multi-tasking super-feat, I’m now rebuilding muscles in pilates and hoping for the best.
If you need me, I’ll be lying on my carpet lifting one leg at a time, turning on my core, doing my nails, making my grocery lists and paying bills.
Oh, and combing the bank accounts for the money to pay for carpet cleaning as I curse condo builders for their unrealistic attachment to lily white.