Well, that was new…

I’ve had dizzy yoga, melty yoga, spiny yoga, sleepy yoga, fat yoga, awkward yoga, uncomfortable yoga, challenging, frustrating, disappointing yoga…

But tonight, I had downright unfun yoga!!!

Room was on the cool side. My leg was feeling stronger than it has all week. It was my favorite teacher (well, I say that everyday). After freezing all day, I couldn’t wait to get hot. I was the first one in, used the whole 30 minutes to warm up. Wall-walked (without grunting). Stood in front of the heater to thoroughly mush-ify my legs, then stretched verrrry carefully, just enough to open up all the tension. It had ALL needed components to be an awesome class.

… But it just didn’t happen. It’s true, when they say the first breathing sets the foundation for your whole practice. I was distracted, fidgety, kept yawning, randomly decided I should hyperfocus on the “ankle bones touching” part. Mine don’t, never have, and for whatever reason I decided I needed to make that happen RIGHT. NOW. Which meant… The actual breathing got very little focus.

And I practiced in the same strange fidgety, sleepy, distracted manner that I established in the breathing.

I didn’t even bother with sit-ups because the floor hurt my butt. My leg still hurts.

Going home and soaking in the tub has been wonderful. I can feel it improving. Plus, it’s just relaxing, and blissful.

But…..
Um, schedule changes mess everything up.

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I need to stop falling asleep before dinner!

Tomorrow.

I’m already soooo sleepy right now.

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It’s my party, and I didn’t cry!

Today was the big day!!! Leigh and I had a yoga party!!!!

We decided to let Altin come too.

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And he, of course, had LOTS to say. Some business about a “dialogue” I dunno, but those Bikram instructors sure make it difficult to socialize in The Hot Not-So-Hot Room.

But, even radiant fail couldn’t put a damper on our party… Actually, even at 91 (practically FREEZING for a Bikram class), with a full room and the humidifiers running, we managed to get quite drippy.

Since chatting through practice is more or less frowned upon, we thought it best to catch up here

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Leigh drove for hours and hours to introduce me to a restaurant in my own city

This time Altin wasn’t invited!
We covered jobs, Joseph *sigh*, travel, and yoga, Yoga, YOGA, her man-bow, my 14 year lick-out hang up, training, advanced class, leg breaking (the yoga kind), different studios. Oh, and I promised to blog about the yoga box in the near future.
It was like catching up with an old friend after losing touch for ages. I think we could have talked forever… Or at least all the way until it came time to practice again. ‘Cause, you know how it goes, if you want to talk through yoga it’s totally cool, and acceptable… For anyone who can cough up $15,500, and survive 9 weeks of doubles with a side of all night Bollywood movie marathons.

I had a great time, and survived dinner! I was totally engaged and distracted, I didn’t even have a chance to freakout. It was a lovely reprieve from the daily battle!

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We will need to party again soon.

Dinners with Dad (and I’m an emotional basket case)

I am not going to yoga this week (not enough gas), which is doing really strange things to me. I have been extremely emotional, moody, tired, uncomfortable… Basically, I need a sign that say “caution yogaless yogini, chose your words carefully abs stand 10 feet back.”

I’m also super worried about losing ground in my practice and, of course, gaining weight. “No worries” I think to myself, “we are the queen of deprivation. No yoga. No food. Simple.” Except, it’s not. I did such a good job establishing a pattern, that now I can’t turn it off! And, not only that, but… On yoga, I only want to eat tons of citrus and spinach (planet’s most scurvy proof anorexic, right here), I have tons of energy and am ready for anything. Off yoga, all I want to do is sleep or eat carbs, sugar and all kind of hollow shit foods. And tonight, the unrelenting demand was for macaroni and cheese (KD for you Canadians out there). So, I gave in- without yoga I am a pushover.

When I was little, my mom was gone a lot at night. She worked or went to school or the gym or something… I don’t really know, but most nights it was just me and dad for dinner. Back then, we weren’t very good at the whole cooking thing. We ate eggs with American cheese, grilled cheese, American cheese melted on pasta… All kinds of American cheese concoctions (this may have something to do with my aversion to almost every non-cheese food on the planet). I’d sit up on the counter so we could converse and be at eye level while he worked. Anyhow, I wanted THIS kind of macaroni and cheese.

So I made some!
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Next week, it will be 13 years since my dad died. We were really close. Making and eating dad-style Mac and cheese tonight was an extremely positive, grounding experience.

Oh. I also cut my hair tonight!

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It had been down, almost to my waist. I really like it shorter (so far).