Where someone with years of hard-won personal experience, and lots of trial and error, shares everything they’ve learned. Read more here.
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By the time you hit your mid-30s, everything hurts all the time. I try to maintain a moderate level of fitness, just enough to keep my body from fully collapsing. But working out creates new and exciting forms of bodily pains and aches. So I’m essentially trapped in an endless cycle of misery, decay, and aging that I will probably never escape from. But it’s fine! I accept my body is a haunted house that I am forced to live in and so, over the past few years, I’ve assembled an arsenal of home body-stretching tools to coax my limbs into something close to alignment. Do they help take all the pain away? No. But do they make the physical and emotional toll of existence slightly less agonizing? Yes, kind of.
Photo: Caroline Goldfarb
I have chronic ankle mobility issues thanks to a surgery I had in college, which means that consistently stretching my calves and ankles is the only thing keeping me from walking like a Jewish Frankenstein. I’d tried everything — rag stretches, standing calf stretches, smaller devices — but nothing was engaging enough to make me consistent. Then I remembered using this giant calf stretcher at a physical therapist’s office once, and in a fit of desperation, I ordered one off Amazon. It is the size of a microwave, and it looks like it fully belongs in a medical office. But I don’t care, because I love my gigantic calf stretcher. I keep it in the corner of my bedroom and use it constantly, usually while watching TV or listening to a podcast. I just stand on it for a few minutes — wearing shoes for maximum grip — and do one leg at a time while leaning my upper body against the wall.
You can adjust the angle of the stretch, which is key. Its size and sturdiness allow me to mindlessly dump my full body weight onto it and let the machine do all the work, making it perfect for lazy, mobility-challenged girlies like me. It’s the only calf stretcher I’ve actually used consistently, and it is by far the most treasured item in my domestic rehab center.
This neck stretcher is, without exaggeration, one of the single most life-changing items I have ever placed under my body. My friend introduced it to me and within ten minutes of lying down on it (that’s all you need to do) my neck looked … longer. Like noticeably, freakishly longer. At least one full inch. Full #GiraffeMode over here.
It’s meant to combat tech neck, but at this point I use it for pure vanity. Every time I lay down on my stretcher, I go from iPhone troll to one of the ladies on the Feud: Capote vs. the Swans poster. Never has a piece of neon blue foam made me feel this rested, elegant, and looking like I got a controversial neck-lengthening procedure in another country.
If you don’t already own a lacrosse ball, does your body even hurt?! Rolling out the knots in my back against a wall with a ball made for Connecticut boys named Sebastian is one of life’s purest pleasures. But the real magic? Rolling out the bottoms of my feet. I’ve spent many transcendent evenings in front of the TV, watching old episodes of Drag Race while absolutely going to town on my metatarsals. The balls are small, which means I always pack one in my suitcase for 20,000-plus-step days in Europe. And I love how cheap they are! I purchased a pack of 15 many years ago, so I always have an extra ball for a friend’s feet at the ready. There is no joy like watching someone light up when you say, “You can take the lacrosse ball home.”
When the regular lacrosse ball isn’t cutting it, it’s time for the Hellraiser edition. This sadistic little torture device really goes deep — into your feet, your calves, your knots, or whatever is ailing you. It is not relaxing but rather a punishing experience of self-inflicted torture that I wholeheartedly recommend. My favorite use for it, however, is for long haul flights. After ten-plus hours in a Delta Premium Select seat watching Dunston Checks In, my glutes go numb in a way that makes me want to cry. Which is when I whip out this spiky little gremlin. I sit on it and massage my own butt out until it has sensation again. It’s a travel essential.
I have a complicated relationship with my foam roller. I know it is good for me. I know I should use it. But I don’t, and I have the muscle tightness to prove it. Recently, my boyfriend gently grazed my IT band and I screamed in pain, thinking I had a giant bruise there. But no, that’s just what my untreated muscle tension feels like. That said, when I do use a foam roller, it’s this one from Amazon Basics. I have the 36-inch version and it’s gloriously massive. I love that I can lay on it lengthwise to release my spine. And it’s not too intense. No spikes, or aggressive textures. Just a big, ugly foam log that quietly does her job when she’s called upon. Which is rarely. But I’m working on that.
I have unreasonably tight hamstrings — and they’ve been like that forever. I have core traumatic memories from the sit-and-reach box in middle school, which was part of some sick and perverse nationwide fitness test for children. I watched my peers stretch forward with ease while my tight goblin hamstrings prevented me from even barely grazing the edge of the box. And that was before I became a writer with a sedentary lifestyle! So stretching them is essential. I think using a rag to stretch out your hamstrings is fine, but my favorite tool is my Pilates ring. I lie on my back, hook my foot in, and gently pull. The ring is sturdy with a slight give that makes the stretch feel deeper and more productive, and I like using my own foot as leverage. You could also use it for actual Pilates exercises too, but I mostly use it for horizontal, stretching-based activities.
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