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Stabilizing SI Joints for Air Squats

squat si joint
No, I’m not about to go to the bathroom in my yard. I’m descending into a squat while holding my SI joints!

My re-acquired (or earned!) ability to squat is absolutely awesome. Many years—yes, years—of persistence, hard work, and dedication finally paid off the day I realized I could finally squat again after so much time of squat=excruciating low back pain.

Since the breakthrough day, I’ve slowly added squatting back into my workout routine. The benefits, both psychological and physical, are obvious already. I have more energy because I feel like I’ve accomplished something major. My workouts are more challenging, in a good way, because I can squat. I’m better able to strengthen my body, which helps keep my joints safe and stable. And I’m so, so excited!

My squats come with a caveat. I’m up to sixty air squats in one workout, but I have to do every single one while using my hands to hold my SI joints in place. If that sounds weird, I promise it looks weird, too, but it works for me. I dig my fingers into the divots near the joints that attach my pelvis to my spine, apply pressure, and squat without pain. I can’t go beyond parallel without sacral nerve irritation, but I can squat! I can squat!

Did I mention I can squat again? J My newfound squatting ability has injected life into my strength-training workouts. I’ve recommitted myself to doing as many resistance exercises as my body will allow, and I feel great. My posture is already improved, and I can hold my puppy with more confidence when she pulls on her leash. I’ve been doing a good core workout plus basic arm weights for quite some time, but squatting has really reminded me of how much a strong body can protect itself—even when it needs to protect itself from itself (thanks, autoimmune issues).

I can’t add weight to my squats since my hands are busy holding my SI joints in alignment, but I have faith that one day I’ll progress. Just the fact that I can do the basic movement again is a huge victory. Every time I squat, I smile. It’s a great feeling to be able to squat, and I’ve worked hard and long to earn it.

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Physical Therapist and Chiropractor to the Rescue

I sometimes undervalue the effectiveness of physical therapy and chiropractic work. In my latest bout with back and hip pain, I was reminded of something that I ironically tell my patients and friends regularly: non-invasive treatment can be the best kind of medicine.

After my sacroiliac joint pain progressed into gluteal spasms and a rotated pelvis, sitting became impossible. I stood for as many hours of the day as I could, and laid prone with a pillow under my hips for the remaining hours. I couldn’t sleep because of the pain, and I finally had a “duh” moment. I work at a spinal rehab clinic. My bosses are a top-shelf physical therapist and an awesome chiropractor. Time to ask for help from the best.

I’m sometimes too passive in asking for help because fibromyalgia makes me feel like I need help way too often. But when I couldn’t sit or sleep, it was time for intervention. My boss /physical therapist put me through a thorough evaluation, and I started treatment two days later. It can be a little strange to be a patient in my own clinic, but the tradeoff is knowing that I’m getting great treatment. The decrease in my pain, progress in flexibility and mobility, and renewed ability to sit (and sleep) are testaments to how well chiropractic care and physical therapy can work together to heal even chronic pain suffers.

I’ve been to two PT/chiro sessions this week, and am currently able to sit pain-free on the floor. I had no idea how important sitting is until I couldn’t do it for a few days. I ran 6 ½ miles on Monday and was able to concentrate on the blue sky over the beach rather than the pain in my back and hip. Tuesday, I could do light weightlifting at the gym and actually sit down for dinner rather than standing through meals. Today, I ran 5 miles, walked the dogs, and was able to sit for 15 minutes in the hot tub without feeling like my sacrum was about to stab through my skin.

Forgive the pun, but fibromyalgia is a pain in the ass. I think the best way to sum up fibromyalgia to people who don’t understand it is to say this: it’s not just a cluster of random and sometimes unexplained painful symptoms (although there are definitely those). Normal injuries happen, but the aftermath is abnormal. The consequences from a healthy runner falling on a trail run are usually some bruises and scrapes. The consequences from a fibromyalgia-suffering runner falling on a trail turn into weeks of muscle spasms, misaligned bones, and exhaustion. It’s like fibromyalgia makes a worst-case scenario out of every situation.

The longer I live and the longer I fight chronic health problems, the less faith I have in pills and surgery. While those things are good options for some people, I prefer to stay as minimally invasive and drug-free as possible. Luckily, I have access to extremely competent and like-minded health practitioners who can stretch, massage, and manipulate my body into a good enough place to keep me out of the pill bottles and out from under the knife. I’ll never again underestimate the power of a physical therapist and a chiropractor—or the convenience and comfort of sitting.