The Art of the Dead Hang

People do a lot of things to get stuff off their backs. Different things. Crazy things. When one is stressed, we typically hear “take a walk”, “have a nap”, or “go out and play”. We seldom hear, “Why don’t you go hang?” Yeah, I sense some eyebrow raises, and some heads turn as I write that. A daily hanging session not only turns heads but turns your body into something else.

What do I mean by ‘Hang’?

Hanging, to put it quite simply, needs only two things: a sturdy horizontal bar that won’t break with your weight, and most importantly, your two lifelong henchmen– the left and the right hand. Just grab onto the bar, point your toes down, and well… just hang.

Research says that a dead hang activates various parts of the upper back and the shoulder, from the wrist flexors to the shoulder’s deltoids, all the way to lats in the back and your abdominal muscles.

How I discovered hanging

Until I discovered hanging, my rapidly developing routine consisted of push-ups and squats to make me stronger; yoga to ensure my joints didn’t creak, and going for a run provided cardio. Yet it was incomplete. While the person in front of the mirror stood proud, he had failed to realise that the backend engineer of his body, the spine, never got to see the light of day. Sure, it did benefit from exercise, but it also needed to take some time off and ‘hang out’.

This was also when I wanted to learn how to do a pull-up. Learning this would complete the trinity of push-ups, pull-ups and squats. It also seemed like a neat trick to master. I imagine it would come in use in dire situations, like pulling yourself up a cliff or something.

Several YouTube videos later, I found myself in a secluded spot in the park with a monkey bar to hang on to. I reached up and slowly lifted my legs off the ground. This wasn’t so hard. For five seconds. A searing burn made its way up my back and sparred with my shoulder blades. Towards ten seconds, I seemed to be contemplating whether to let go or not; my hands and wrists said ‘yes’, my back sobbed ‘yes’, and last of all, my forearms said ‘hell yes!’

When I dropped down, my hands still seemed suspended in the air.

A strange feeling took over my back. I felt taller. More stretched and flexible. My shoulders were pushed back with a new confidence. Throughout my life, I had been looking at the floor while walking, it was as if someone had swiftly lifted my head to look at the world above me. I stared at my palms, now a little agitated that they had been put through an ordeal, and wondered – what is this wonderful new feeling?

My back thanked me with gratitude when I hit the bed. As I drifted off to sleep, I decided that I would go back to the park and do it again. And I did, for many days and months to come.

Why it works

The activity that slowly built its way into my routine helped on different levels. On the physical aspect, it relieved my back of its duties. In three short repetitions of 40 seconds, it undid hours of hunching (like those production possibility curves in economics) in front of the computer.

Long story short, the dead hang made me feel more alive. After a while, it had made its way into my brain by rewiring it completely. Other activities offer you a momentary distraction or a break from the stressful aspects of your life, but sooner or later, they come back to bother you.

To hang is a different approach. Instead of temporarily getting rid of stress, I feel it has increased my ability to withstand more; annoying things may not go away, but they seem less annoying. Hey, that’s a win too. As soon as I leave the house, hang for a while, and come back, I am ready to confront everyday challenges with a slightly better attitude.

We all have certain routines that are private to ourselves. One evening, my daily visit to the park was rudely interrupted by a group of children hanging around and playing next to the monkey bars. Not my kind of hanging. With a slightly irritated expression, I went elsewhere to hang. Not the best place, but at least I could hang in peace.

Peace. It occurred to me that it was also my thinking place, a spot where I would mull over my thoughts without realising.

And onward we go…

I have been hanging for more than a few months now. Despite my frequent attempts to track the number of sessions, I could never measure what has now become part of my life. In more than one way, the ‘dead hang’ has my back.

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