In a very poetic fashion, PEACE is meant to immediately follow an injury, while LOVE comes after the first few days.
P = Protect. (Restrict movement to avoid aggravating the injury)
E = Elevate. (Keep the injured limb higher than your heart to promote fluid flow out of the tissue.)
A = Avoid anti-inflammatory modalities. (Say "no" to both ice and anti-inflammatory medicines.)
C = Compress. (Wrap the area to reduce swelling and hemorrhages.)
E = Educate. (Learn about the proper approach to recovery.)
L = Load. (Once symptoms allow, slowly start dancing again to promote tissue repair.)
O = Optimism. (Stay positive—the brain has a powerful effect on the body.)
V = Vascularization. (Find a pain-free form of cardio to boost blood flow to the injured tissue.)
E = Exercise. (Follow a physical therapy prescription to increase mobility and strength.)
Start moving again as soon as you can without pain.
But if icing makes you feel better, go for it.
Still, some sports medicine experts aren't ready to swear off icing entirely. Because it does have one major, undisputed benefit: pain relief. And that isn't something to snub your nose at.
As Mirkin, the man who coined and then denounced the term RICE, told Outside magazine, "The penalty isn't permanent." It's not that you'll never recover if you ice an injury—it's just going to take a bit longer.
James Whiteside (Jayme Thornton for Dance Magazine)
Say you're perpetually impeccable designer Thom Browne. Say you're planning your Spring 2020 Paris menswear show along a "Versailles country club" theme. Say you want a world-class danseur to open the show with some kind of appropriately fabulous choreography.
Who do you call? James Whiteside, of course. On Saturday, the American Ballet Theatre principal—wearing pointe shoes and a glorious pinstriped tutu—kicked off Browne's presentation at the École des Beaux-Arts with a 15-minute, show-stealing solo. Whiteside choreographed the piece himself, with the help of detailed notes from the designer.
I'd been a professional dancer for five years when I realized the pain I'd been feeling in my hip and down my sciatic nerve was not going away. I had been treating it for two years as we dancers do—with regular visits to my masseuse, physical therapy, baths, ice and lots of Aleve—but I never stopped dancing. It finally dawned on me that if I kept going at the speed I was going (which was, well, speedy), the pain would only get more severe and unrelenting, and I might never dance again.
I told myself I'd take two months off, and all would be better.
That first morning when I woke up at 10 am, I had no idea what to do with myself. My life until that moment had been dictated by class and rehearsal, every hour accounted for. How should I fill the huge swath of time ahead of me?