The Perils of Specificity II: Satyracromion

We can define "training" as our deliberate attempts to promote adaptation. This is in contrast to "exercise", which often serves a vaguely defined purpose, the achievement of which is generally dependent on one's endorphin response. There is no objective affirmation or denial of whether an individual has "broken a good sweat" or "got their heart pumping". Still, any activity undertaken will have physical consequence, even in the absence of physiological adaptation. In training, we use specific intensities (%1RM), tempos, and intervals in an attempt to efficiently achieve our desired results. Though a hypertrophic response may be elicited through our deliberate work (say, 4 sets of barbell curls), we still activate the same muscles throughout the day (perhaps to raise a beverage) in the execution of our non-exercise physical activity. This "collateral activation", as I alluded to in the last segment, does not create a stimulus for physiological adaptation (you don't become appreciably stronger, no matter how many sips you take from your glass), but it very well may have a physical consequence. Of course, I'm not one to neglect these delicate topics which others often fail to even discover.

A muscle contraction involves the physical shortening of agonist fibers, and the corresponding lengthening of antagonist fibers via reciprocal inhibition. The problem with everyday activity is that there are very few opportunities to use the full range of motion of any given muscle group. As a result, most of our [mechanical] work is done in narrow ranges and with a strong isometric component. A waiter may have an extremely well developed anterior deltoid in the first 30 degrees of shoulder flexion, but lacks balanced development of the posterior deltoid in shoulder extension. The imbalance increases the likelihood of acute injury, but there is the more pressing (get it?) issue of the static forces which keep the muscle activated long after the restaurant closes. The chronic shortening of one muscle causes the chronic lengthening (and weakening) of its antagonist. This scenario isn't exactly ideal in regards to the structural integrity of the joints and soft tissues.

It is not, however, a problem reserved only for those with isometric-intensive professions. I would not be writing this article were it not relevant to the fitness community. Not only do we consider ourselves immune to imbalances, we often refuse to acknowledge our injuries. I am particularly guilty of expressing my denial as: "I always do everything right, my elbow/shoulder/back/knee hurts for no fucking reason!" To be fair, I was entirely unaware of why I was mistaken before a very recent epiphany... why did I raise my head during my deadlift again?

No, that's far too simple. Why did my neural programming resort to activating my splenius capitis, thereby putting me in the dangerous position of neck extension? It very clearly should have activated my longus capitis, and thus maintained the proper position of neck flexion. I must admit that I do not use isolation exercises to target my neck flexors and extensors, despite the availability of the equipment to do so. That explains why I'm currently unbalanced, but it doesn't explain how I became unbalanced. Plenty of people without my knowledge and experience manage to avoid neck extension while pulling. Since I don't activate it properly in isolation, why would I have activated it improperly in isolation? I had not, of course... and here begins our fun.

I spent about a week with severely limited mobility; I could not comfortably sit, and while standing was possible for short periods of time, I much preferred to lean on things, or to lay in a contorted position in an effort to reduce the compression force(s) on my lumbar spine. I had been achy and tired the week before, so I tried to make the most of it, and thought of it as forced recovery time. Several days into my new concurrent training regimen of pretzels (superset with frosty flakes) and netflix (superset with soundcloud), I noticed that I had very painful bilateral shoulder impingement, very likely the worst I had ever experienced. Considering that I would be furious to have any sort of injury while lifting up to and including infinity hundred pounds, you can imagine that I did not qualify the lateral raising of my cereal bowl as a legitimate cause for pain. Though my severe demands for answers would have frightened any rational acromion out of my supraspinatus, mine required an attitude adjustment... rather, an altitude adjustment. While looking in the mirror for any indication of abnormal function, I wondered how, days removed from any deliberate exertion, I could have provided a disproportionate stimulus to the muscles which cause impingement. Scapular elevation, shoulder flexion, elbow flexion, medial rotation... and then it clicked. The man in the mirror was suddenly familiar to me.

I often play a curious game, it involves using the oral cavity in the creation of a pressure gradient while simultaneously engaging the glossal muscles in rhythmic circumduction. The game is self-correcting, in that it scales in difficulty as you advance in ability. Assuming standard starting position, the irregular (indeed spasmodic) forces which would deviate a sport enthusiast from his/her preferred dynamic and tempo can only be counterbalanced with forces generated at the glenohumeral joint, most of which involve medial rotation. A few hours of uninterrupted playtime can (and will) severely shorten the agonist muscles and leave one in a postural mess not unlike that encountered with upper cross syndrome. An innocuous leisure activity causing severe pain and structural imbalance in a highly trained, flexible, and mobile athlete. Humorous as the premise may seem, it's very real, and very relevant to our profession. I've since developed the habit of performing sit-ups (with isometric neck flexion) and planks (for scapular depression) on a daily basis. It took about 10 days to get rid of the imbalance (which I hereby name Gladiator Syndrome), and I'm now pain free.

TLDR: I am advocating the use of exercises to specifically target the antagonist muscles of those employed during non-exercise physical activity. It's imperative to not confuse physiological adaptations with physical reactions. My muscles did not become any bigger or stronger by maintaining a certain posture, but they certainly became shorter. Having chronically tight hamstrings or traps is not a matter to be dismissed. There's a reason for it, and if you're following a sound training protocol, it's something you're doing outside of the gym. Drop your ego, drop your political correctness, and evaluate yourself. It's preferable to exercise a bit of vigilance in observing your movement patterns than to let your habits surface during your training.

"Well, there goes the meet. Idiot can't keep his head down. Hope it was worth it."

In your mind, of course: Was Amazing

Though with a bit of mindfulness, earthly pleasures and peak performance can co-exist. If you play piano, do planks. If you wait tables, do rows. If partying demands that you constantly raise the roof, be sure that a similar attitude towards excess be employed on the lat pulldown. You may wave your hands in a manner which implies indifference, but you really should care. It's just a matter of being responsible.

Until next time.