Reader,

Sometimes finding what works means discovering what doesn't.

I saw both sides of that in my clinical work this week.

A few clients returned after some time away feeling really good in their bodies.

There was less pain—or no pain at all. Movement felt freer and lighter. One person even commented that she felt like she could go for a run.

What struck me wasn't simply the absence of pain. It was the sense of possibility that came with it.

The usual activities of daily life weren't using everything they had in the tank. There was energy left for something else. Movement wasn't something that needed to fix a problem. Their bodies felt ready and open to doing more.

And then there was a very different experience.

Another client had been trying some movements I'd prescribed the week before. There was a clinical rationale behind why we'd chosen them. Based on what we knew at the time, they were reasonable things to try.

But their body had a different response.

The movements repeatedly amplified their pain. After trying them several times over a few days, the client stopped.

I celebrated that.

Not because I was happy the movements hadn't worked.

I celebrated because the client didn't feel obligated to continue just because I had prescribed them. They didn't wait for me to give them permission to stop.

They gathered information from their own experience and decided:

This isn't working for me.

I think that's some of the most important work we can do with movement.

I can bring years of clinical experience, knowledge of anatomy and exercise science, and a rationale for why we might try something.

But I cannot be the expert in someone else's body.

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That's why my work is collaborative.

We're constantly gathering information about what works, what doesn't work and what we haven't tried yet.

Sometimes the response is, Yes, this feels good. I think I can do more.

Sometimes it's, No. This isn't right.

And sometimes it's, I'm not sure yet. Let's keep exploring.

With this particular client, we pressed pause on two movements. We're still gathering information about another. And then we explored something completely different.

Interestingly, the same area of the body responded again.

At first, the response was subtle. But as we continued, it became clearer that this area had something to tell us.

So rather than continuing to push—or, as I sometimes say, poke the bear—we became curious.

What else might be contributing?

What could we learn from this response?

Could we approach it differently?

That's the art and science of movement.

We use what we know. We make thoughtful choices. We try something. And then we pay attention to what actually happens.

The answer isn't always to push harder.

Sometimes we pause.

Sometimes we change direction.

And sometimes allowing yourself to stop is progress.

This has been on my mind as I've been working on a new resource called Could Yoga Work for Me?​

Because I don't think the answer to that question should automatically be yes.

Yoga offers a different way of exploring movement. We move the body through different ranges of motion while incorporating the breath. There can be opportunities to slow down, notice and explore—and there are always ways to change what you're doing.

It's not simply stretching. And it doesn't have to be about pushing your body into a particular shape.

But could it work for you?

That's something you get to decide.

I've created a free guide with 12 questions to consider if you're curious about yoga but aren't quite sure whether it's the right fit.

The goal isn't to convince you to do yoga.

It's to help you gather some information, ask some questions and make that decision for yourself.

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Stay well and happy moving,

Lisa

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Supporting you in your physical activity journey.

​www.lisaworkman.com​