IOL Strength and Conditioning

The way I figure it, the movement pattern and corrective exercise experts began their study of human motor patterns through the work of Moshe Feldenkrais. He’s the guy who started this trend back in the ’40s, although he didn’t live to see it hit the athletic world, or for it to trickle down to those of us on the fitness side. Of course the new generation of teachers expanded on his efforts to include strengthening weak areas and stretching tight ones, but the underlying idea of how the brain makes the body move began with Feldenkrais a long time ago.

Today’s rehab leaders probably don’t talk about the Feldenkrais influence much because most of their readers would think it sounds like some kind of voodoo magic; yesterday was my second class, where the six of us rolled around on the floor as the instructor pondered out how we first taught ourselves to crawl.

Pretty out there, but no less true, and the movement pattern guys who re-teach us to squat will often remind us of how a baby learns to squat, and how the body originally built stability on top of great mobility. Somewhere along the line, we lost it, lost the mobility and eventually forgot the movement pattern.

Here’s an example of both. Over the course of about 35 years, increasingly bad posture that began in my teens had my thoracic spine not moving, about as close as you can get to immobile while still moving around town. Daily effort on a tennis ball peanut, plus plenty of careful and consistent exercises brought my T-spine mobility from really poor to pretty darn good, so much progress that I was confident on that score. Yet the back pain remains solidly in place, and I’m still tinkering around with new ideas such as movement awareness.

During my first Feldenkrais class two weeks ago, as we were doing a sort of spinal wave movement, the instructor crouched in front of me and held my neck in her hands, immobilizing it. Suddenly I could no longer do the spinal wave… everything stopped. She told me later her effort was to trigger me to begin using the spine, that my upper back was moving as a block, rather than in smaller vertebral segments.

What had happened was over the course of my corrective exercise work, I’d gained exercise mobility, but not much natural movement. Mobility does not necessarily mean motion!

From the Feldenkrais point of view, and I’m certain most of the corrective guys agree with this, once mobility was compromised, the brain skipped over that area and found another way to bend and move the back. The other way is very likely one of the causes — probably the main cause — of the chronic back pain that triggered this whole rehab progression for me in the first place.

Not only do you have to regain mobility, flexibility and stability, you may have to relearn how to use it. This was quite a revelation to me as it occurred, made small today when put into words. The few readers who have made progress in the corrective arena, yet are still in pain may find it useful to ponder this the next time you’re lying quietly on a foam roller.

Introduction to Feldenkrais Movement Awareness Class: