To read Part I, click here. Injuries have always been a huge part of sports. But in today’s world, with the technological boom, you would think that non-contact injuries could be eliminated. Nah, not even close. Superstars go down, seemingly daily, with nagging injuries that make you shake your head. And there’s a little bean [...]
To read Part I, click here.
Injuries have always been a huge part of sports. But in today’s world, with the technological boom, you would think that non-contact injuries could be eliminated.
Nah, not even close.
Superstars go down, seemingly daily, with nagging injuries that make you shake your head. And there’s a little bean in the back of my head that tells me that our industry is running on a treadmill when it comes to preventing them.
As I discussed in Part I, I’m questioning the principles behind the dangers of muscular imbalances. The theory sounds great, don’t get me wrong, but it doesn’t add up when I fall back on evolutionary principles.
We’re instilled with imbalances from birth. We are taught to write, throw, and kick—nearly everything unless you’re ambidextrous—with only one side. That side will dominate, there’s no escaping it.
And while a discrepancy in leg strength may be a bit more extreme than bilateral penmanship, the question remains: can fixing imbalances not only fail to prevent injuries, but also cause injuries?
The body adapts if it (a) has to, and (b) has the resources to do so. And there’s no better example than a skinny bastard trying to gain some muscle.
An external load (barbell, dumbbell, sandbag, etc.) is nothing more than a stressor the body perceives as a threat. If the stressor occurs frequently, the body adapts to handle it. Our nervous system gets better at recruiting muscle fibers, and this is how we get strong. Luckily, this doesn’t require a lot of raw materials, so it takes place without much trouble. This is part (a) of the equation—the body is adapting because it has to.
If, however, we are supplying the body with ample nutrients, it will also respond by building muscle. But if we can get the job done with neurological means, why tap into the metabolically expensive process of hypertrophy? Because more muscle means bigger fibers, allowing for greater strength potential. This is part (b)—the body adapting because it has the materials and because it has to.
So when we have a sprinter or thrower with a muscular imbalance because of a lot of hitting or running in one direction, it’s the body’s adaptation to those demands. One side isn't stronger because it wants to be, it’s stronger because it has to be. And as long as we stress the body that way, the imbalance should be there. By fixing the imbalance, we undo our body’s natural protective mechanism.
No imbalance conversation is complete without baseball. You would think that switch hitters have a smaller chance of oblique injuries since they swing the bat both ways.
More balanced, you know?
Maybe not.
Chipper Jones, one of the best switch hitters in history, has struggled with oblique injuries for the past few years. And his view on oblique injuries? “He believes switch-hitters like himself are more vulnerable than others because they use two swings.”
Not scientific, but interesting. Maybe swinging in two directions makes you more vulnerable because the body can’t create such a skewed imbalance.
Comparing the creation of muscle and the creation of imbalances makes this real interesting. It might be easier to understand if I went high school SAT on you, using baseball as my example.
Swinging One Direction : Imbalance
Lifting : Hypertrophy
So if the imbalance caused by swinging in one direction is bad, wouldn’t the hypertrophy caused by lifting weights also be bad? After all, they are nothing more than the body's response to survive an external stressor.
I could be way off. But I’d rather strike out swinging, than strike out looking.
Time to work on Part III.