I Had the Right Pants All Along

This is what happens when I don’t dig deep enough. I go through Bikram in shorts that make me feel naked and all sorts of camel toe nightmare only to find that the right pair were in my bag all along. I found them burried in my bag when I got to the office. Someone is trying to teach me a lesson and that lesson is either “Don’t be afraid of the sight of your own thighs.” or “Dig Deeper, it’s in there.”

How oddly profound and immeadiately cheesy the thought is to dig deeper. Or course it would be.

I woke up this morning glad and excited, happy to be awake during the witching hour. I was excited for class 1 of possibly 3 today. I mentally scan my body head to toe and notice what feels out of line and make a note to remember this so I take care of myself during those moments when I feel like I’m pushing beyond the point of no return. Right hip is still off. I’ve switched out messenger bags which I believe to be the culprit. That and the fact that I seem to carry around what feels like 50 lbs of crap with me. All this business of towels and mats and clothes and stuff have made me into crazy bag lady.

I feel there’s enough recovery time today for Vinyasa at noon and possible evening Bikram just because Elizabeth is teaching. The idea dawned on me this morning when I saw the schedule posted. Sure I can consume over 96 oz. of water between now and 7:00PM to make class #3. I’ll re-check with myself after Vinyasa and see how right hip feels.

This is all such an enthralling read, I know. It’s like I’m talking out loud here, going through my mental checklist. Most of my friends don’t understand it and would rather spend their down time doing something else. It’s hard to explain what the draw is. Who would want to spend an hour and a half in a 100 degree room contorting the body in what seems like the most unnatural positions? Or what’s the point of doing a crap load of sun salutations when you probably burn more calories going for an uphill run?

Yes. I know. Those are pants that I am wearing.

I do it because I can and I do it because for a brief moment, the superfluous ding of the outside world just stops. It stops. I step onto that mat and there is nothing but me. Noises and people and things come in and out of that space, but they don’t matter. They are there and then they go and after awhile, they’re not even heard anymore. Nothing matters but my practice and my practice is breath, the asanas are secondary. It took me awhile to even realize that my practice had morphed from a way to lose weight into a way to press pause and take a breather. Why wouldn’t I want to do 3 classes a day everyday?

Oh right. My body will need to agree. While the brain’s need for restoration is great, the muscles, joints and ligaments will need to give it permission for 4 hours of yoga in one day.

With that said.

I’m hungry.

Remember when I used to post here Calories in and Calories burned? How silly.

But for posterity’s sake, if you wanna know, oatmeal w/ almond milk is in my near future.

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