As a chiropractor, you see about every musculoskeletal complaint imaginable, and even a few things people only hope you can help them with. I got into the profession to help people move and feel better without having to turn to drugs or surgery, unless it is absolutely necessary. I have also been training in powerlifting and competing off and on since I was 14 years old, which gives me 18 years under the bar. I went to Palmer College of Chiropractic in Davenport, IA and was fortunate enough to meet several world class powerlifters. We had discussions about technique, gear, training methods, and applying what we knew to help the non-lifter heal. However, let’s be honest. As much as I would like to have a clinic that only saw motivated and dedicated patients who were willing to listen to everything I had to say and commit 100% to improving their health, it isn’t going to happen.
The majority of my patient base is disturbingly de-conditioned, and most have no posterior chain to speak of and wonder why they are in so much pain all the time. There are even those who can barely pick a sock off the floor without running to my office.
My classmates and I often discussed this phenomenon—just how weak the normal American really is. However, we also talked about how changing how someone does a few simple things can make a big difference in how he (or she) responds to what normally hurts him. This is where we found how techniques in powerlifting, even if the person never picks up a barbell in his life, can help heal him.
At my clinic, if you tell me that you have constant lower back pain or always seem to be hurting your back when you get up or get down to pick something up, you can almost bet that you will be learning how to box squat and deadlift. I tell patients all the time that the safest way to pick up 800 pounds off the floor is also the safest way to pick up your kids, a pencil, or to tie your shoes. Knowing how to properly execute a deadlift applies way beyond the gym in ways most people don’t even consider. The lack of the ability to hinge at the hips in the general population is astonishing. I keep a barbell and two homemade wooden training plates in the corner of my treatment room, and in just a few minutes, I can get them to understand the importance of loading the glutes and hamstrings, keeping the chest open and the back flat, and taking in a breath and bracing the midsection for a punch. They are amazed at how powerful they feel and how effortless and safe it becomes to pick things up. Suddenly, lifting that full laundry basket isn’t so scary.
There will always be a special place in my heart for the squat. Squat pattern dysfunction and weak glutes is probably one of the main reasons I see most of the people I see. If you stop and look at the box squat, you will see that it is really a loaded way to stand up from a chair (or couch, or side of your bed, etc.).
Watch your grandma get out of a chair—there had better be arm rests or she is in trouble. People get so used to using their arms to get them up that their legs, in turn, get weak. Then they ask me why their low back and shoulders hurt all of the time. When I explain to them how I watched them get out of the chair in the waiting room, they are shocked to learn just how they are doing it, and they can’t believe how it is directly related to their problem. What's more, they can never tell you how long they have been doing it because it is such a habit.
The first thing we do is look at how he (or she) sets up to rise from a chair. You can almost guarantee that he has a close stance. From there, his knees cave in, he starts from the very back of the seat, and he either presses his hands into the arm rests or onto his knees to initiate the movement. This is where I get a person's attention. I ask him, “What happens to your friends when they don’t have the leg strength to get out of a chair?” This makes him think "nursing home" almost immediately. I don’t like to be a fear-based guy, but I have to get him to understand how important correcting this is! I then have him get closer to the edge of the chair and widen his stance. I like to see his feet at least in front of the chair legs, maybe a little wider. I tell him to take in some air and brace for a punch, push his knees apart, and shove his feet into the floor. Usually this will take some practice, but sometimes it all clicks and he stands up for the first time without his hands in years. I even took a 91-year-old lady from needing something to push against or pull herself up with in order to get off the couch to rising completely hands-free in two weeks. I am not terribly concerned with forward lean in these situations. I am not loading their spines and most of them have no intention of joining Westside anytime soon, so I have to compromise a little. I will usually prescribe practice of this at home—working up to getting out of a chair 10 times in the morning and 10 times before bed every day.
It is rewarding to see these people regain some mobility and independence. The elderly will even comment about how much easier stairs have gotten or how they aren’t as afraid of falling down. It even improves their stride length and confidence. While we are all trying to fine-tune our technique and bring up our lagging muscle groups in order to push the limits of our potential, we forget that these techniques apply even when you are unloaded and getting up from the couch.
