06-11-2021, 12:13 PM
I am now in the "where's my cane?" stage of recovery. You know, where you park the cane to do something with both hands, then a bit later you realize you've been wandering about without it and have no idea where you left it. A good sign, though I shouldn't move around if I'm limping, as it will imprint on my brain as a bad habit that will be hard to break. So, gotta use the cane when I'm tired/sore to prevent the limp.
I work out two hours a day. These are not Kung Fu workouts. They're rather lame and designed to exercise the full set of muscles going in and around the hip. The surgery left lots of vacancies around the new joint, and now it's a game of fill-in-the-blank -- preferably with muscle, not scar tissue.
I've been taking this Kaiser online class from an instructor. It's a group exercise, but you don't really see the other classmates due to privacy concerns. I've been doing pretty well, but it's rather sobering when she tells me, "Cranefly, you need to work on your flexibility." You'd think with all my Kung Fu I'd be okay in that department. The stretch in question is the clamshell. You lie on your back, slide your heels up to your butt, so your knees are up and together, and then you open the knees outward. You can apply hand pressure on the insides of the thighs for more separation. When I started, I was stuck at a measly 90 degrees. That got the comment. After maybe 10 days, I'm now maybe 115 degrees.
The hardest exercise is the Jane Fonda. What makes it extra hard for me is finding a place to do it. Ideally, you want a bed that abuts a wall. No can do. So you do it on the floor against the wall. The problem is, we have precious little runs of wall that are vacant. So, for the Jane Fonda, you lie on your side (surgical leg on top) wedged tightly against the wall. With your legs kept straight, you raise the top one along the wall. You don't want any hip rotation.
So, I found maybe three feet of wall in my room. That's enough to give the hip through feet support against the wall. My torso is sort of free floating in a doorway. But it works. So we do Jane Fondas to finish off the work session. Ten of them, with holds, the longer the better.
These are Phase IV exercises, by the way. It's the last stage, though I've heard rumors of a Phase V. It's not included in the package deal, however, and appears to cost extra. I've heard tantalizing hints that it includes an exercise called the Barbarella. But you have to buy a spacesuit. I suspect they don't have one to fit me very well.
Changing the subject some, I've always wanted to see a sports show where retired professional linebackers 50-plus years old compete in sports events. They would show up in their wheelchairs and do their limited best. Yes, that's my commentary on football. But recently I stumbled across a video of Mary Lou Retton preparing for and going through hip replacement surgery. What the hell? Is this the cost of being a competitive gymnast these days?
Then again, I now see that she was born with hip dysplasia, and gymnastics aggravated it over time.
I work out two hours a day. These are not Kung Fu workouts. They're rather lame and designed to exercise the full set of muscles going in and around the hip. The surgery left lots of vacancies around the new joint, and now it's a game of fill-in-the-blank -- preferably with muscle, not scar tissue.
I've been taking this Kaiser online class from an instructor. It's a group exercise, but you don't really see the other classmates due to privacy concerns. I've been doing pretty well, but it's rather sobering when she tells me, "Cranefly, you need to work on your flexibility." You'd think with all my Kung Fu I'd be okay in that department. The stretch in question is the clamshell. You lie on your back, slide your heels up to your butt, so your knees are up and together, and then you open the knees outward. You can apply hand pressure on the insides of the thighs for more separation. When I started, I was stuck at a measly 90 degrees. That got the comment. After maybe 10 days, I'm now maybe 115 degrees.
The hardest exercise is the Jane Fonda. What makes it extra hard for me is finding a place to do it. Ideally, you want a bed that abuts a wall. No can do. So you do it on the floor against the wall. The problem is, we have precious little runs of wall that are vacant. So, for the Jane Fonda, you lie on your side (surgical leg on top) wedged tightly against the wall. With your legs kept straight, you raise the top one along the wall. You don't want any hip rotation.
So, I found maybe three feet of wall in my room. That's enough to give the hip through feet support against the wall. My torso is sort of free floating in a doorway. But it works. So we do Jane Fondas to finish off the work session. Ten of them, with holds, the longer the better.
These are Phase IV exercises, by the way. It's the last stage, though I've heard rumors of a Phase V. It's not included in the package deal, however, and appears to cost extra. I've heard tantalizing hints that it includes an exercise called the Barbarella. But you have to buy a spacesuit. I suspect they don't have one to fit me very well.
Changing the subject some, I've always wanted to see a sports show where retired professional linebackers 50-plus years old compete in sports events. They would show up in their wheelchairs and do their limited best. Yes, that's my commentary on football. But recently I stumbled across a video of Mary Lou Retton preparing for and going through hip replacement surgery. What the hell? Is this the cost of being a competitive gymnast these days?
Then again, I now see that she was born with hip dysplasia, and gymnastics aggravated it over time.