Hammers, Hatchets, and Triggers

For the past two weeks, I've barely been able to train, which sucks. I noted that I was suffering from what started out seeming like a mild low-back-pain episode but which actually manifested as being just about the most long-lived one that I've had. It was never exceptionally severe as it has been in the past, but it never got much better either, which was frustrating and, obviously, uncomfortable and limiting. I'm *mostly* better now, 18 days after the day when it all went to pieces, though long-period turning sessions (more than 20 minutes at a time), most vigorous static posture practice, and many of the strikes are still right out of my ability set -- stuff starts cramping. It's strange, sad, and motivating. I want to train. I want to live without this for the first time in about a decade. I'm going to have to fix it.

The other night I was looking into the matter further, reading up on it via a slough of articles hunted down off of the internet with no real way to know for sure what was accurate and what wasn't among what I studied, and I found a bizarre article that talked a lot about trigger points in the sacroiliac region. I thought there might be something to it after seeing where this guy got his ideas and how he's used them. I poked around in my psoas muscles, which I'd already been stretching intensely from as soon as I was able to get into the positions, and instead of feeling what I expected (muscles, most likely tight ones), I felt what the author was talking about: trigger points, dozens of them. Probably scores, actually, were in there. It felt quite a bit like a sack of pellets stuffed very tightly, in fact. Immediately, I climbed in bed and started working them out even though it was far later than I usually like to stay up now, but I fell asleep after an hour and a half or so in my right side and had barely touched my left. I woke up the next morning and went directly back to it, working a little in my left but almost entirely in my right, again going for more than an hour, and when I went to stand, I felt several times better than I had all along in the preceding weeks, even after chiropractic. My psoas muscles also felt remarkably different. In the days since, I've worked more into those (the article said it might take two weeks to two months to work all of them out of the pelvis, depending on how bad it is in there) and made significant progress. I've also explored around and found trigger points in the other hip muscles, lower abdominals, and some into the low-back region, though it's HARD to reach and work on. My hands are quite sore, having dug deeply into my flesh to push out knots of tension for about 5-6 hours in the last three and a half days, but I'm feeling almost better than I usually do (generally better than usual, though there's still a stiff spot that isn't usually there). That keeps me going; well, that and the idea that my hands are going to be very, very strong from this. I think that this combined with stretching and a little chiropractic will actually heal me as opposed to just keeping me at a barely acceptable status quo (which is where mediocre attempts at stretching and some chiropractic was keeping me).

Interesting little things come up, like sudden releases of a tiny knot, no bigger than a grain of rice, followed by an intense sensation like hot water flooding down and spreading out through the inside of my leg. That comes up a lot. Relief usually follows. I'm having very bizarre dreams, which the author suggested might come up since his belief is that trigger points are primarily "stored-up fear-based emotions." When you release the point, apparently, the emotion starts working its way out. Hence, I rub into these painful little areas with a mantra of "am I willing to let this go?" Sometimes it seems to help. Sometimes it doesn't do much. Maybe that's my subconscious answering yes and no, respectively. Maybe it has nothing to do with it. I like it, though, so I'm keeping it up. As a weird side-effect, I'm in a wholly better mood than I have been in over the last four to five years (length of Ph.D. program?).

In any event, Sunday, the first day I was feeling much, much better, running around with a bit of a gleam in my eyes, I went to the store to get some duct tape to finish off my Proxy Saber, v. 2, which is superior in nearly every way to the original by following Ket's design. While there, since I have some yard work to do that requires a hatchet that I don't own yet, I went to look at the hatchets. Some I liked but wasn't willing to pay so much for, and some I didn't despite their bargain price. Eventually I was holding one, feeling its weight and balance, trying to decide if the price for it was right when all of a sudden three teenagers dressed in a vaguely counter-culture way came into the aisle. One was smaller, maybe 115 pounds, and a young man. One was bigger and clearly not as sharp or at least less of a leader but probably no older, maybe 15 or so. The third was a girl that was running around with them, skinny and frail looking with a falsely tough exterior. The smaller guy stood a few feet from me and picked up a eight- or ten-ounce ball hammer off the rack and eyed it for a minute, bouncing it a little in his hand to get used to the weight. Then he turned to me and said the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard, particularly seeing as I was still holding the hatchet and bigger than him by at least 50-60 pounds and almost a foot of height: "Hey mister, have you ever been hit in the head with a ball-peen hammer, and would you like to experience it?"

I would love to know what the kid was thinking when he said that. I'm guessing that he was trying to be funny, which he, of course, failed at. I turned to face him, still holding the hatchet, and grinned at him, almost looking excited, and said, "you wanna go?"

He looked like he was going to soil his pants in response and then tried to play it off all nonchalantly: "Nah, man, I was just kidding around." I put the hatchet back on the rack as he put the hammer away. Then I looked back at him and asked him if he was sure, now that I didn't have an ax. He told me he was just kidding again, his friends laughing like I was the stupid one and missing some hilarious joke, and used a tone that indicated the same. I went to pay for my tape, and though they were laughing, they made a rather quick exit from the store.

Weird story, huh? Good thing I didn't have to break it down on some kids. I'm not entirely sure of the legality of that kind of situation, seeing as they were minors but that they, I think, technically threatened me with a weapon. I guess it's an equally good thing that the kid didn't find out my opinion about feeling a hammer in a more direct way, asking me after he tested it out. The moral, I think: kids these days are punks, i.e. I'm getting old.