fighting BACK; Plagued by persistent pain and unable to bend over without wincing, Jancee Dunn turns to exercise for relief and, along the way, unveils a strong and sexy back.

Byline: Jancee Dunn

It happened slowly, insidiously, when a dull ache crept between my shoulder blades and stayed there. At first it didn't bother me. Then I noticed that turning my neck too quickly produced a sharp twinge. My day of reckoning arrived when I dropped a pen and was unable to grab it if I bent at the waist. I, once as pliant as a ribbon during my yoga phase a few years back, had to squat down. I even made the same groaning noise my father does-understandable for a 60ish retiree, but pitiful when you're in your 30s. If I bent over while keeping my legs straight, my hands dangled a full foot from the floor.

How could I regain my once-strong, flexible back? I phoned a few friends with similar problems. Eight out of ten Americans will experience back pain at some point in their lives, and yet relief is often elusive because it's maddeningly hard to pinpoint the source, so each friend had crafted a custom cure.

"Xanax," advised one. "Half a milligram." Another made weekly visits to a chiropractor and an acupuncturist. A Los Angeles acquaintance had a saner proposal: super-slow weight training.

"I'm obsessed," she said. "Every ache and pain is completely gone."

Super-slow was developed in the eighties by trainer Ken Hutchins for a study of older women with osteoporosis. Because their bones were fragile, they needed a safe, low-impact way to build muscle. Rather than using short, two-second repetitions, which is riskier for joint and muscle injuries, their trainers had them work on weight machines very, very slowly. When the young instructors noticed how quickly their subjects became stronger, they started using the method themselves. It was soon embraced by professional athletes and celebrities such as Brad Pitt, and is becoming a favored option at the country's hipper gyms.

I found a place near home called Threshold, a gym in an industrial West Chelsea neighborhood that specializes in super-slow training. Husband-and-wife team Eileen Kelly and Lowell Boyers custom design private 45-minute sessions to be conducted several times a week. "Even with such minimal commitment, clients see and feel remarkable results," their Web site reads. Forty-five minutes? I've waited longer for an iced skim macchiato. I was in.