On Saturday, March 14, most of the US pretty much went into quarantine because of the Coronavirus pandemic. Schools all across the country (and many places in the world) shut down. We are doing online schooling. Retail stores are closed.
People are scared of this virus, and I am doing my best to follow quarantine rules and haven’t been out of the house to go anywhere except the grocery store. There is one place I’ll still be going this weekend, though. It’s a place I visit every 3 weeks-- so often that when I asked Jared “What’s my favorite place to go?”he said, “to see Ron”.
Ron is my physical therapist. He works for Sports Rehab Consulting (SRC), a private, self-pay physical therapy business that calls itself “concierge physical therapy”, because some of their PTs make house calls. (We’re not talking about home health care, or PT for the elderly. We’re talking about working with world class athletes, or going to see a wealthy client at their home in Vail. SRC was started by Lindsey Winninger, who was a trainer for the US Ski Team and is now Lindsey Vonn’s personal physical therapist.
SRC recruits therapists who are certified in dry needling, have extensive experience with manual therapy, and who are immersed in the sports scene. Many of their PTs also serve as therapists for professional teams (One works with USA Rugby, another with the US ski team). But they don’t serve these populations exclusively.
We learned about SRC as Kenna was getting ready for hip surgery in 2015. Ron was recommended by her surgeon and highly recommended by my good friend, who jumped on the labral reconstruction train a year before us and whose advice probably saved our lives. Or at least it saved Kenna’s hips.
Hip arthroscopy was the new surgery, but not all PTs are created equal, especially when it comes to protocols for newer surgeries. We had no PTs in our area with experience rehabbing labral repairs or reconstructions--as my friend found out rather painfully--and Ron had had a labral repair with Kenna’s surgeon. As a former collegiate athlete, patient, and PT who worked with many athletes, he could see all the angles; in fact, he could feel what he was doing as he did it to his patients. He knew exactly what they needed at each phase of their recovery. Under his care, Kenna recovered from two consecutive surgeries, going on to play sports for two more years with no complications.
Enter me and my complex history of compensating.
In the fall of 1989, I was a high school volleyball player in New York State. I sustained an ankle sprain that kept me on crutches for weeks. When I was feeling improved, we went to our school doctor--an older, Italian man who probably didn’t have orthopedic experience--and he flatly denied my request to play. Deep down, I knew he was right; I wasn’t even walking well. But I was an athlete, not a spectator.
I missed the entire season. And I didn’t do any rehab. (Did anyone rehab ankles back then? Most people don't now.)
Fast forward about 5 years, to my sophomore year of college. I was very active, lifting weights, swimming, and jogging. Running was what I enjoyed most; I was relatively new to it, and I loved the euphoric runner’s highs. During the summer, while working in California, I ran with my friend, Sherrie, who acted like my trainer. She was an ex-collegiate runner. Twice my age, she was used to running at altitude, was much more efficient than me, and she smoked me.We ran portions of the Pacific Crest Trail together, ending our runs at Rattlesnake Hill, which was a rocky incline that doubled in elevation from beginning to end. (A big deal when running at 7,300 feet to begin with.) It was tradition that Sherrie would beat me to the top and wait while I struggled to finish, usually stopping at the end. I think I almost made it up toward the end of the summer, but it was a killer. Every step felt like I had lead legs.
The high point of the summer was the day Sherrie and I ran the 6 miles into town together. I started planning my future, which would be full of 10ks and half marathons.
But things fell apart.
Back in Provo, I was running alone and running on pavement. Immediately, I had knee pain.
I couldn’t put my finger on it: Why so much pain, when I’d been pain-free just weeks before? Every time I ran I’d ice my knees, but the pain persisted. Finally, I had to quit running. Instead, I walked the hills of Provo. I was sad; my running days had only lasted about 18 months.
I visited an orthopedist, who diagnosed me with patellofemoral stress syndrome (PFSS), a common if vague knee pain. Take a break from running and get orthotics to correct that walk, I was told.
I followed that advice, but fifteen years later, I was still not okay.
I developed severe pain and trigger points in both scapulas. I had knots in my muscles that hurt constantly. I had had five kids within eleven years; the youngest was two or three. I had gained weight with four of the pregnancies, and after my fourth child was born, I didn’t lose much. It was hard to work out with little children underfoot and older kids involved in afterschool activities. I walked a lot, but my days of weight training and swimming were long gone. I had sacrificed the things I loved in the name of being a Committed Mother.
Finally, I started to address my pain. At this point my youngest child was two, and I had started working a few hours a week at our local fitness center. With the extra money, I began seeing a massage therapist. This helped some, and I looked forward to my appointments. After a few years, a physical therapist told me about dry needling. I tried it and was amazed by the relief I felt.I started to incorporate regular needling with massage.
Eventually I switched therapists, working with someone who did more manual therapy. After needling my shoulders, she would work my neck. Although I had been to a chiropractor and watched chiropractors work on others’ necks, I’d never experienced anything like Becky cranking on mine until I thought it would snap. Eventually I learned to relax through it, and I experienced a good deal of relief after about 9 months of treatment. In fact, I had a period of time when I thought I was better. I was able to go over a month without an appointment and without pain. But then volleyball season began, and I was coaching and using my arms to throw balls over the net and playing ball after practice. It wasn’t the best thing for me, and I became problematic again.
During this time period I also noticed that one of my shoulders was lower than the other, and my upper body was rotated to the right. I had actually noticed this a few years beforehand, when I started working as a personal trainer. In fact, I bought a book at a class I attended: The Pain Free Program: A Proven Method to Eliminating Back, Neck, Shoulder, and Joint Pain. The book was basically for people with compensation issues; it was a guide to self-evaluation, and it included lots of corrective exercises, some for rotation compensation issues. However, I knew that I couldn't self-evaluate very well and that the best way for me to get the help I now knew I needed was to see Ron. Although I was already seeing physical therapists and being needled, they were not evaluating me like he evaluated his patients. He would spend one third of a session looking at a person’s biomechanical movement patterns, then treat them, then watch their new patterns based upon the corrections. He always prescribed corrective exercise. He was methodical and thoughtful and deliberate; there was no cobbling together a halfway treatment plan and hoping it worked. I needed this deliberateness and thoughtfulness.
I started going to SRC for treatment in the fall of 2017, a year after Kenna’s last surgery and a couple months after she’d “broken up” with Ron. At the first visit, he asked me what was going on, and I explained my neck and scapular pain and the treatments I’d had for years. Then I simply said, “You’re good at figuring out puzzles, so I thought you could help.” He laughed, a kind of unspoken acknowledgement of my assertion.
I haven’t looked back.
I always recommend Ron and Sports Rehab Consulting, and not many people try him. It’s far away, and it’s self-pay (I’m sometimes surprised this is an issue for people; I could go see him 2-4 times and see another therapist once for the same price). I get it. But I’m not breaking up with him yet. Maybe not ever.
He’s treated my condition, not just my symptoms. We spent about 9 months addressing my scapular pain, tight and overactive lats, and rotator cuff weakness. I felt perfect for awhile, and thought we were done. But Ron was interested in what was going on with my ribs, and soon his perceptiveness paid off; I needed more help. We spent a lot of time working on my feet, correcting my left foot supination, which likely had existed since I sprained my ankle almost 29 years ago. We think it was the weak and me that caused my knees pain and then cascaded, causing the hip rotation and scapular compensation. Compensation is truly horrible.
Today, I am once again thinking we could be nearing the end of our time together. For the past year we’ve been addressing my rotational issues, fixing my hips’ tendency to settle and dip during certain exercises, strengthening the glutes and hamstrings, working out the tightness in the quads and hip flexors. Ron has worked on my calves and anterior tibialis to get them to release and help my foot stay neutral. I sometimes think he’s worked on everything there is to work on.
So, here I am at the age of 45, feeling better than I have since my early 30s. Sure, I’m still overweight, but I’m also getting some mental health care and learning about mindfulness; I have every reason to believe I can fight that battle, too. Plus, when I exercise now, I can use my time to work hard, instead of investing so much time in stretching without making progress. My pain is gone, and I’ve started hiking again, which I hadn’t done since my late teens. My feet don’t hurt, my hips extend correctly, and I just feel good.
I love you, Sports Rehab Consulting. I’ve had a great time learning from you and rekindling my interest in all things sports medicine. Thanks to you, maybe I’ll even work toward attending PT school. The biggest thanks to you, Ron. I owe ya.