Mind Stretcher Books
Rosalie Checca
I'm not averse to stretching. In the mornings, I often twin a gigantic yawn with an arm-stretch and feel all the better for it. But I associate stretching with preparing for other, more strenuous, exercise (to which I am allergic); or with men in the 1950s wearing white vests doing morning star-jumps.
I turn for help to Craig Ramsay, a former Broadway dancer and trained contortionist with muscles so bulging he appears semi-inflated. His book, Anatomy of Stretching, is a manual for novice stretchers such as I and yoga bunnies alike. Talking us through knee bends, forward extensions and twists, it is designed to combat the many anti-exercise excuses (mine read: I don't have time/it's too expensive/how embarrassing!) by dividing stretching routines into bite-sized, life-appropriate chunks.
"As a fitness expert I keep being asked: how should I be stretching? When should I be stretching? How much stretching should I do? And hearing people say they don't stretch enough," Los Angeles-based Ramsay, 35, tells me over the phone.
"So many people are too intimidated to even start a fitness programme. Stretching helps you get to know your body. To identify what feels good, what doesn't, and to really connect the mind, body and spirit."
Ramsay suffers from attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and tells me his parents helped him to use exercise to regulate his condition. His goal is to pass on this knowledge, to convince the exercise-averse that there are ways to tone up and feel better in your own home, without the pressures and expense of a group session.
As a dancer he has all the grace and physical co-ordination I lack, but his techniques have nevertheless been developed for people like me who are not natural movers. For this he drew on his experience as a personal trainer on the frighteningly titled American fitness television show Thintervention.
"We need to learn from our animals," Ramsay says. "In the modern world we've lost touch with ourselves, we're so wrapped up in iPhones and computers. Copy your dog: wake up, stretch and start the day."
I start with the chapter called Office Stretches. Sitting at my desk (The Independent is alarmingly open-plan) I try some seated twists and a forward-bend hip-shift (which makes it look as if I've lost something under my chair), but draw the line at a supported hamstring shift (for which I would have had to stand up and lunge at the chair with one leg). After five minutes of this I look around the office smugly, but nobody seems to have noticed my enthusiastic flexing.
Having spent the afternoon feeling extra productive and rather pleased with myself for managing to exercise and work at the same time, I take Anatomy of Stretching home with me. After slumping on the sofa for an hour it is 9pm before I don my leggings and unfurl an exercise mat on my living-room floor.
In my strictest pedantic mode I examine the book for confusing language that might result in a groin strain and/or leg tangles. There are occasional Americanisms (though Ramsay is actually Canadian) but the instructions are otherwise clear and are coupled with detailed anatomical diagrams so you can see the changing shapes of the big, meaty wads of muscle as you stretch them.
Reading about the importance of warming up (which I'd mistakenly taken stretching for) I discover I'm required to leap about my living room, running on the spot at speed, shaking out my fingers and toes in true jazz-hands style (Ramsay was on Broadway, after all), which I do, as my bemused boyfriend tries to ignore me in our one-room living space.
Anyone who's ever done yoga will be well at home with Ramsay's selection of beginners' poses. I work my way through the assisted foot stretches with ease and only a little ticklishness. Cradling my own leg to my chest is, however, completely beyond me. As is the forward frog straddle, which seems to require an extra pair of knees on my thighs.
Face stretching turns out to be rather painful. As instructed, I place my palms on both temples, grasp a handful of hair on either side of my head and then pull. The book says to do this both "gently" and "slightly" but I seem to miss this crucial point and end up liberating handfuls of hair.
Eye stretching is less hazardous. It demands rotating my eyeballs slowly in circles, pausing at points between shifting my focus of vision. Ever the multitasker, I attempt this at the same time as the lion stretch, which is an open-mouthed roar with your tongue sticking out. I end up resembling a redder version of the little girl from The Exorcist.
Heedless of Ramsay's warning not to tackle these without having followed the basics for at least a month, I attempt a crab-like forward lunge and end up with my right leg wedged painfully over my shoulder. Unable to complete the stretch, I collapse sideways and end up face-down on the carpet. The last time this happened was during a particularly competitive game of Twister.
Taking stretching, which most people do before exercise, and turning it into the main exercise event, is clever if not exactly groundbreaking. Ramsay's programme takes some of the best things from yoga and Pilates and dresses them up in an accessible, easy-to-complete package that is free of meditation, incense and scary exercise machines.
Will I keep following it? I'm full of good intentions to do so, yes. But it'll probably last for about as long as the Olympics keeps making me feel bad. The office stretches stand a chance of greater longevity (so long as nobody notices, that is). And face stretches are definitely off the agenda.
As well as benefiting us in its own right, stretching has a key role when completing any sort of exercise or training. Olympic athletes are no different. These athletes will be training daily and in doing so putting their bodies through huge amounts of stress, whether running, rowing or swimming. To help to aid their bodies through this pressure they do copious amounts of stretching.
Athlete Jenny Meadows (bottom) starts with slow, low-intensity stretches, gradually increasing the intensity over half an hour of preparation. As athletes complete their stretching this allows their minds to become fully prepared for what their bodies are about to endure. "A warm-up helps you feel energised and focus on your training," Meadows says.
Angie Hunt: First of all, congratulations on your publishing debut. fathermothergod is a courageous, controversial, and heart-wrenching memoir. How long ago did you start writing this book, and what was the timeframe from first word on paper to first word in print?
Lucia Greenhouse: I started writing fathermothergod in late 1986. I have been working on it on and off since then, at a rate (annoyingly calculated by one of my kids) of eight words per day. In truth, I worked on it in fits and starts, and wrote several drafts before shopping it.
AH: During the writing process, you took several workshop classes at The Writing Institute at Sarah Lawrence College. With so many institutions offering workshops for adults, why this one?
LG: Someone, at some point, suggested The Writing Institute to me, saying it had terrific classes. My sister graduated from Sarah Lawrence College in 1981, so I was familiar with the school's reputation. I requested a catalogue and found Joelle Sander's class, "The Art of Memoir." I remember feeling intimidated by the idea of submitting a piece of writing before being accepted into her class. But I did it, and I'm glad I did.
LG: No, I stuck with "The Art of Memoir" class. Joelle Sander is insightful and encouraging, with an ear for cadence and truth and a critical, thoughtful mind. I loved my fellow writers in the class, and having to "present" every other week gave me the structure I needed to stay on task.
LG: Setting aside time has always been the most challenging aspect of writing in general, at least since I've become a mother. In terms of writing memoir, the hardest part is the worry over what impact publishing the story might have on loved ones.
LG: As I was told repeatedly, the days of the twenty-city book tour are over. Those are pretty much the exclusive domain of the famous, infamous, and bestselling authors. For first-time unknowns, with few exceptions, the book tour is more of a friends-and-family effort. Because my book's pub date was in August, when everyone is on vacation, the only events I did were in communities with a lot of summer folks: Stonington, Connecticut; Fire Island; Southampton; and Chautauqua. In September, I [had] events in New York and my hometown of Rye. Because my daughter is moving to L.A., and because I have a cousin out there who has graciously offered, I will have an event there in October. Ditto, San Francisco. The Pratt Library in Baltimore, Maryland, is also hosting a book event in November. I am trying to visit book groups, too, because I'm told if my book is to do well, it will be largely a word-of-mouth effort.
LG: Great question, and here's my editor's answer: She has one writer who has published eight books. He will tell you he has published eight, but he has only ever finished one! That sort of sums it up pretty well. Even now, I find myself editing, especially for the few book events I've done. Joelle has always impressed upon her students the importance of reading out loud, and she is so right. I find that in preparing for a public reading, I axe a word here, change a word there. (Not sure I'm supposed to admit that, but oh well!) Maybe if there's a paperback edition, I'll get to make some more little changes?
AH: And now for the sixty-four-million-dollar question, which students in The Writing Institute are always worried about: Did your family know you were writing your story? What were their reactions at the beginning of the process when publishing was far into the future? And did you worry or compromise the story at any point to avoid causing pain to family members?
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