During the second year of my law degree, my chronic pain peaked. Recorded lectures were my saving grace, as the physiotherapy exercises I’d been prescribed the year before were no longer touching the sides. Dignity in the bin, I regularly scaled my obscenely steep Sheffield stairs on all fours, spent gaps in my timetable napping, and was forced to slide back down on my derriere to return for afternoon seminars. Not to mention, northern winters weren’t doing much to ease my rusty joints and deteriorating immune system.
The exercise ball which bagged me the largest room in the house was now mocking me from under my desk. Frankly, I had no idea how it could help. I doubted anything could help. I found myself in a spiral I’ve since become more familiar with: pain, rest, inactivity, more pain, more rest, more inactivity etc. And several useless consultations later, I found myself turning to a more holistic route.
Cue Yoga with Adriene.
Having completed a few of her YouTube practises the previous year, I knew I liked Adriene Mishler’s vibe. The “find what feels good” ethos suited me, and a beginner’s mindset was beyond necessary. Rolling out my turquoise mat on 2 January 2015, I was greeted by Adriene’s warm smile, mint t-shirt, and brunette ponytail. Immediately, I knew I was in good hands.
Sure, it wasn’t a miracle cure, but I finished that month with far more hope than I started with.
As I finish my ninth year of tuning into Adriene’s 30-day challenge, I realise I have not once regretted it. Never have I arrived with apprehension, experienced pre-gym anxiety, or showed up feeling out of my depth. Many times, I have been out of my depth, but the feeling has somehow evaded me.
Now, I should clarify.
This January is the first since 2018 I’ve actually been able to complete every video within the time frame. And while I consider 2023 more of a “success” than previous Januarys, it’s not for the reasons you might assume.
I’m not flexing my biceps in the mirror, admiring my physique in Lululemon, or patting myself on the back for my relentless determination to push through the pain.
As a matter of fact, I can’t say I’m in drastically better health than the last five years, or my muscles are in leaner shape at all. The difference this time is more in attitude, in understanding. With the correct diagnoses in place, and early attempts at unlearning internalised ableism, I’m in a much better position to offer myself the compassion and accommodations needed.
Can’t do downward dog today? Fine. Child’s pose it is.
Shavasana putting too much pressure on my wonky hips? Great. Pop a rolled-up towel behind my knees, and add an extra blanket for padding.
Twists that might lead to subluxed ribs? Skip to the next.
Despite Adriene’s teachings of acceptance, just three years ago, I would have forced myself into painful poses, added on reps, and worn tight-fitting athleisure for every session. That is, before deeming myself broken, falling down in tears, switching off the video, and giving up altogether.
So, why did I keep returning?
For me, 30 days of yoga in January feels more like a check-in than a challenge. It feels like recommitting to myself. Although each year's programme is different, the annual nature of it serves as a benchmark. I can subtly chart my pain levels, and weigh up my progress, daily and weekly.
And crucially, I get to decide what progress means.
On a physical level, the daily habit can be humbling, to say the least. It can highlight weaknesses, and reveal surprising areas of strength (abs? really?). Because yoga is a whole-body practise, if I’m not engaging my whole body, it soon becomes apparent exactly where I’m lacking, and exactly where I’m hanging off loose joints.
Some subscribe to the idea that yoga is bad for those with Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, and hypermobile bodies. But for me, this view lacks nuance. Provided you have sufficient understanding of your anatomy, you can adjust poses accordingly, avoid positions you know will flare dodgy joints, and limit yourself before reaching full range of movement i.e., stop doing the splits.
We’re not in primary school, and no-one cares if you can touch your nose to your knee.
Yoga isn’t just about improving flexibility. The benefits are endless, but for me, it can be a game-changer in increasing stability, proprioception, strength, and the ever-elusive mind-body connection.
The past decade has taught me that breath-work is just as important as movement. Hitting magazine-worthy posts won’t help you in the slightest if you aren’t filling those lungs and soothing that overworked nervous system. In this era of collective trauma and burnout, mindful breathing is needed more than ever. This may sound all a bit hippie-woo-woo for you, but look up vagus nerve activation and tell me I’m wrong. Seriously.
Why else do I keep coming back?
Because Adriene is a dream instructor. Not all teachers are built the same, and I’ve been unable to vibe with many others when attending in person classes. For me, it can all feel a bit…cookie-cutter. A bit…militant. Somewhat impersonal. Which seems ironic given Adriene’s millions of viewers. But when exercise culture is so entwined with diet culture, body dysmorphia, and shame, it can take a whole lot of rewiring to commit to a practice that serves your body, soul, and nervous system all at the same time, without any expectation of results.
Of course, you’ll see results. Just not necessarily the “before and after” bikini snap kind. The results will instead be an accumulation of tools to help you combat daily anxieties, manage chronic pain, breathe through insomnia, and notice that growing shoulder tension while you work at your desk.
Check that posture, honey.
Again, and again?
Because I can do it in my own home. More specifically, in my wardrobe (which is bedroom sized – I’m not The Boy Who Lived). I can show up in Disney pyjamas, with a dry-shampooed top knot, and bags under my eyes so large Ryan Air are looking to charge me for them. I can pause the video half way through and rush off to the toilet without prying gazes or tuts of disapproval. I can surround myself with pillows and fluffy throws, and groan loudly if the mood hits.
While I am unlikely to commit to daily yoga throughout the year (let’s be real), I know I’ll be showing up with tin next January for the tenth anniversary of the 30 day programme, and hopefully, for many years after that.
Of all the people I’ve never met, Adriene may just be the most influential. And to follow her regular advice, when it comes to movement in general, I will continue taking what I need and leaving what I don’t for as long as it serves me to do so.
Perhaps consider this your prompt to try the same? However that looks for you.
Namaste from your favourite non-pushy yogi. Yes, I am. Don’t argue.