I almost hate to blog my practice here because I know it likely bores the shit out of folks who don’t share my irritating obsession with yoga.
Side note: On the way in to work this morning, Brian says, “Remember there’s a right turn here.” “Yeah, I got it.” “Sorry,” he says, “It’s just that you were talking about yoga, so I thought I’d make sure you remembered the directions.” Does this man know me or what?
Daily practice since the first of the year. I’m not sure I even want to judge them in terms of “good” and “not good” – I mean, hell, I’m on the mat every day, so can a practice really ever be Bad? Maybe not as happy as another practice, but they’re all good anyway, just by being.
Two long practices this weekend. Frankly, I'm grateful it's Monday so I can downgrade back to an hour after work. I’m tired. Yesterday I got whiny at the beginning. “I really don’t want to do this. Damn it, what a pain in the ass this is. I hate the first ten minutes. I can’t even breathe through my nose in child's pose. Do I need a neti pot? What a pain in the ass this is.”
Then the nose cleared, the mind quieted, and the practice took over.
And damn, I was so freaking sore afterwards. It wasn’t a bad kind of sore – it was really more like, “Wow, my body didn’t break during [insert name of pose here]. Cool.” Also it was a good excuse to spend ten minutes in a mineral salt bath. Just enough to loosen me up enough to enjoy the soreness instead of being disabled by it.
Yogamum is faithfully keeping the NaYoPracMo blog updated, and it’s very inspiring to know that there are plenty of other folks who deal with these same challenges every day. I'd really love to figure out how to put the graphic in the sidebar, but the new Blogger Beta is messing with my head.
She mentioned a popular excuse for not practicing – “I’m full; I’ve just eaten.” You’re supposed to practice on an empty stomach. I truly understood the wisdom of this after trying to work a mild inversion after eating popcorn only an hour before. Yuck.
But this has an unexpected benefit – if I try to make sure I can practice when I want, it means I can’t overeat beforehand – because I have an idea of how long it takes to digest something. And this means yoga practice has to be more important than what I feel like eating or overeating. It’s kind of a nice way to improve eating patterns.
It’s a juggle, though. Do I practice or do I visit with Dad and Judy and make sure the chicken pot pie gets in the oven on time? Do I practice or do I play with Duckie? Do I practice or do I … You get the idea.
But you know, somehow I have to find a way to justify it despite the guilt, and most often the justification comes in knowing that when I spend this time on myself (i.e., on the mat), I feel much better (less resentful, in other words) about spending time and energy on other people. And hell, you know, yoga practice is good for me. Although anything can be bad when it’s done immoderately.
I do have to say that if it weren’t for Brian’s support, this sweet challenge would be next to impossible. We’ve been having some bitchy, sniping moments lately and I’m not sure where they’re coming from, but still, he’s been consistently encouraging. (Some of this is probably coming from a fear that I will be an utter bitch if I can’t manage this – which, you know, hey, is probably true.)
I got a call on Friday to come pick up Duckie from school – she had a slight fever, red cheeks, and a really bad attitude. But by the time I picked her up she was pretty much back to normal. I was already out of work, so we had a nice day together, some shopping, a solid nap (which we both needed.) I managed a quick, less-than-enthusiastic practice that evening while she reveled in Steve Irwin’s Antarctica adventure (I was a little envious), we did our usual pizza…
Well, I’m getting off track. What it comes down to is that I’m totally covered up with work from missing Friday and I’m procrastinating by writing this blog entry. Which has, of course, happened before.
Anyway. Hope everyone had a good weekend. Weather here was nuts. It was seventy degrees on Saturday, and I wore sandals. In January. In the mountains of Western North Carolina. Insane.
P.S. Speaking of food, I did manage to avoid the sugar orgy on Thursday, but I blew it on Friday and Saturday. Back on the wagon again...