Tag Archives: Yoga

An Exercise in Letting Go

I am a creature of habit.  Wake up. Eat.  Do stuff.  Sweat.  Do more stuff.  Eat. Shower.  Do more stuff. Eat.  Repeat.  Last week was tough on me.  There was a lot of Eat and plenty of Do stuff but not enough Sweat.  The plan was to taper my running back in order to feel fresh and strong for Saturday’s 25K.  It didn’t work out exactly as I had planned.

I went to yoga. Twice.  The first time I went I boogied out of there before savasana.  The idea of just chilling, flat on my back for ten minutes was making me crazy.  I had a routine to maintain.  I wasn’t Sweating.  And now I wasn’t evening Doing stuff. I ran a few miles and called that my savasana.  Savasana is your Happy Place, right?  Running is my happy place.

The second time I walked in to class hell-bent on staying.  It is not uncommon to focus on an intention at the beginning of class.  “Stay until the end…. Stay until the end….” I sat, cross-legged and eyes closed, and focused on what was surely the lamest intention for a yoga class ever.  Don’t leave.  Quiet the mind? Forget it.  I just wanted to stay physically present in the room.

We were still in seated meditation when I noticed the clock was missing.  Surely it had been hung up elsewhere in the room.  I’d find it.

Standing.  We were finishing a set of sun salutations and I had managed to inconspicuously look all over the room. There was no clock.

It is hard enough for me to unplug.  My cell phone was on the other side of the room.  And now there was no clock. I had no idea what time it was.  This laid-back yoga class might just have me sweating yet.

We were in triangle pose when I started to freak the fuck out.  How long had we been here?  And I was freezing.  The class before ours had turned the air conditioning on evidently because even our teacher finally remarked on how cold it was in there.  She kicked the thermostat up and we carried on.

Through pigeon and into some seated twists.  We had to be half-way through, right?  An hour class, we’d have balance poses last in all likelihood and that would leave time for ten minutes in savasana.  I was really struggling in this absence of Time. Was it tomorrow?  Had we been here for an entire day?  Was it yesterday?  Oh my god, what in the fuck time is it?  And now I was sweating.  Like, really sweating. I took my jacket off and I could feel warm air all around me and I almost felt feverish.

In the moment that I was convinced I had eaten some kind of LSD with breakfast someone remarked that the air conditioning was definitely off but that it seemed the heat had turned on in its place.   Ahh. I was not alone in this imaginary hot flash.

Up on our feet.  Tree pose.  Dancer’s pose.  Half Moon.  Warrior III. We were almost done. And down on the floor.  Savasana, corpse pose, reflect on your intention for the class.  I made it.

We were seated and smiling.  Namaste.

I waited until our teacher had turned the lights on.  People were talking.  I opened my mouth and without any control of the words spilling out, I spoke. “So, the clock is gone.  That was kind of crazy.  It was like I was eating acid and I was all “Oh man, whoknowswhattimeitis, Ifeelsofree.” and five seconds later I was freaking out because “Holy moly, isittodayortomorroworyesterday!? Add in the whole Iamfreezing, no, waitnowIamsweating factor and wow.  That was some yoga class.”  It is common that following these bouts of verbal vomit there is a strange silence.

My teacher smiled.  “Yeah.  We are going to need a new clock.”

~

My desperate attempt to take a few days off paid off.  The Merge Records 25K was a smashing success, finished strong, had fun and I am not crippled! Took a short run this morning and I feel super (thanks for asking!)

Merge25K

Wellness

Everyone tells a new mother “Make sure to take time for you!” and  “Take care of yourself, you can’t take care of your family if you are not taking care of you.” And unlike so much of what “everyone” tells you, it’s not bullshit.  So this go round, I am doing the very best I can to do just that.

Yesterday was a damn near perfect day.  I had my second post-partum trip to the chiropractor.  One more and I am cleared for  take off.  It is hard to believe it was only a year ago I drank the Kool-Aid but I am convinced that my chiropractic care is somewhat to credit for my bouncing back so quickly after this labor and delivery.

In the same building, I had the pleasure of participating in my very first activity that starts with the words “Mommy &.”  And believe it or not, after I got past the initial “I can’t fucking believe I am doing this” feeling it was wonderful.

Mommy & Me Yoga.  Check that off the bucket list.  I had this idea that somehow it would be guided rolling around the floor with my youngin’ which I had trouble wrapping my mind around.  Around the why you’d need someone to show you how to do that and how I was going to get through it without peeing in my pants (not from lack of Kegel exercises during and post pregnancy, but from hysterics.)

Turns out Mommy & Me Yoga is regular yoga where your baby can loll around on a blanket (hopefully sleeping) and if they should wake you can pop out a boob in child’s pose or do the Mommy sway in the back of a room and no one will give you the glare.  The glare that says “really, a baby?  A baby?  How dare you bring  a BABY here!?”

There is one more thing a new mother needs to do.  “Get out of your house!” the well meaning advice givers say.  This is easier said than done for some, but I don’t have any trouble getting out.  I was, after all, at work seven days after Lucy was born. But I was out of the house twice this week, socially.  Much harder for me.  I had lunch with an old friend one day this week.  Not a huge accomplishment for some, but slightly more cause for celebration because I initiated this meet up.  And the second time?  With a new friend.

It makes me nervous to say that.  A new friend.  You may recall that I sought acupuncture treatment towards the very end of my pregnancy.  I have since been back twice.  Because I really like the practitioner.  She’s neat.  And cool. In that “I wonder if I am cool enough to kick it with this girl” way.  Can women that have TWO kids even “kick it” at all?

I did the hard thing.  The hard thing that frequently eludes me.  That I had dared myself to do in November in this upcoming year.  I stuck my neck out and tried to make a friend.  Making friends is awkward under normal circumstances, but when you have bullshitted with a gal  a handful of times and at the end you hand them your Visa card it is especially daunting to say “So, I was thinking maybe we could hang out, and maybe I’d not pay you.  Whatcha think?”   But I did it.  And it paid off.

I had the last of my pre-paid sessions yesterday.  And I am certain I will see her when she gets back from her trip to Austin.  Because she likes me, too, guys.  Even though I have TWO kids and am rapidly heading towards having NO job.    And get this.  She has ZERO kids.  Like maybe we could talk about something besides breeding.  Or breastfeeding or how much sleep we got.  There is a place for all that.  A huge place.  I did just finish mentioning that I secretly LOVED Mommy & Me Yoga afterall… but music and tattoos and books and funny stories from your twenties, this is some good shit that deserves some attention, too.

Quite a few of my friends, friends that have known me since Emily was little and before,  have recently sent me an email or a text message along a common theme.  “How are you doing? Really?” And to each of them I have said the same thing, “I’m good, I think.  I feel really good.”

I am typing this in my “running” clothes.  Clothes that will really be walking with a VERY tiny bit of jogging clothes until I have had one  more visit with the chiropractor and am closer to six weeks postpartum.  It isn’t noteworthy that I am writing and wearing pants with a forgiving waist band.  But these clothes are already sweaty.  (Tell me that is not gross? I  wear exercise clothes more than once unless I wear them to a Bikram Yoga class.  I don’t really care if I already smell if I am heading out the door to sweat.)

Day one of a 5K training program was completed day before yesterday.  And I am headed out the door to do day two as soon as I hit Publish.

So, to answer the question, how am I doing, really?  Awesome.  Really, really good.  I am taking care of myself.  And I drank a Heineken while I cleaned out the fridge after Em told me she did not have a boyfriend.  Yet.  I got this.  It’s gonna be cool.

Day 73: Get a hobby

Day 73: Get a hobby. Wikipedia defines a hobby as “an activity or interest that is undertaken for pleasure or relaxation, typically done during one’s leisure time.”  Until this past year I really didn’t have any leisure time to speak of, so it is no w0nder that I didn’t really have any hobbies.  But now that I do, thanks to the help of MQD I am sometimes gripped by the need to “do something” that is just for me but I don’t really have the desire or the cash flow to back it up.  But I think I have found it.

My intermittent obsession with fitness is another post all to itself, but I think I have stumbled in to a new obsession that might actually, if I can figure out a way to swing it without having to sell my ass on a street corner, become a hobby.  I bought a ten class pass (which sounds like a super good album name) to a Bikram Yoga studio recently.  I enjoy yoga, and try to catch a class at the gym I belong to as often as I can. But I don’t feel that same sense of fuckyeahikickedmyownass like I do after a good run after a yoga class. But Bikram?  I feel like a badass when I leave.  And it’s not just the 105 degree room.  It’s the focus for ninety minutes on something.    And admittedly, the fact that I am drenched with sweat doesn’t hurt. The class tends to fill up prior to the start so it requires I get that there about twenty minutes early to get a spot.  So, that ninety minute class quickly becomes two hours.  Two hours, 120 minutes (great MTV show, sigh) of time for me.  I sweat, and I smile and I sweat and I breathe.  And I don’t think.

And I feel like this when I leave…

Shout out to Burke Lake park, what! what!