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Oct. 18th, 2013 09:04 am
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Yoga last night for the first time in 17 days. It was really good. I had gotten a bit weird about yoga. When I was growing up, my sister was tall and pretty and... I was smart. I know I've spoken of this before, but I really internalized that message and spent most of my life pretending that I was somehow weirdly disconnected from my body (except for the horror of dressing rooms). I just tried not to think about it. In yoga, I became conscious of my body in a way that I had never been before and eventually that became body conscious, you know? Hyper aware of my size and my dissatisfaction with it. Yoga became about exercise and I really lost my joy in it. I spent a lot of time over the last few week trying to change that focus. I don't want this to be about weight loss, I tell myself, just as I don't want eating vegetables to be labeled as dieting (because then I think "deprived", which leads to binging). I want to live a healthy life, even if I never lose an ounce and never fit into a size 8. I want to be healthy.
So, I finally went back last night, with the admonition that I had to just close my eyes, breathe, and listen to my instructor and (most importantly) my body. I didn't push when my thighs bitched that it'd been weeks and we certainly weren't going to put our nose to the floor (or anywhere near it) in straddle or put our heels down in down dog. My hamstrings reminded me that we are barely on speaking terms on the best of days. My back says we're definitely too old for this shit and to not even think for a moment that we'll ever find ourselves in wheel or camel. It was enough to do what I could without pushing and to breathe (particularly because I was just getting over my cold). It was nice. It was nice, too, because class started at 6 and it was really cloudy out so kinda dark anyway but by the end of class, it was full on dark and she only had candles lit. Except for the woman next to me sighing loudly at every turn, it was easy to pretend it was just me and to not bemoan that I'm not made of rubber.
I don't know. I feel better today for sure for having gone and I'm going back tomorrow so that I can begin establishing my routine again but I definitely need to remain mindful of why I'm doing this and set my intention each time I step on my mat.
So, I finally went back last night, with the admonition that I had to just close my eyes, breathe, and listen to my instructor and (most importantly) my body. I didn't push when my thighs bitched that it'd been weeks and we certainly weren't going to put our nose to the floor (or anywhere near it) in straddle or put our heels down in down dog. My hamstrings reminded me that we are barely on speaking terms on the best of days. My back says we're definitely too old for this shit and to not even think for a moment that we'll ever find ourselves in wheel or camel. It was enough to do what I could without pushing and to breathe (particularly because I was just getting over my cold). It was nice. It was nice, too, because class started at 6 and it was really cloudy out so kinda dark anyway but by the end of class, it was full on dark and she only had candles lit. Except for the woman next to me sighing loudly at every turn, it was easy to pretend it was just me and to not bemoan that I'm not made of rubber.
I don't know. I feel better today for sure for having gone and I'm going back tomorrow so that I can begin establishing my routine again but I definitely need to remain mindful of why I'm doing this and set my intention each time I step on my mat.
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