Archive for the ‘Yogi Me at Yoga You’ Category



Watch Out, Monkey. Here I Come!

10:33 pm · category: 5K Ass, NaBloPoMo, Yogi Me at Yoga You

I am completely, totally, and utterly wiped out after spending my weekend at a yoga workshop that kicked every single square inch of my ass — as well as the rest of my body.

The yoga studio where I practice brought in the incomparable Meg Byerlein, an Anusara instructor with shitloads of experience and expertise.  Saturday’s instruction included a combined 5.5 hours of asana that focused on backbends, hip openers, forward bends, and twists.  Today’s morning Ayurveda session was absolutely fascinating and insightful; however, I learned that I should consume many of the things I love most (namely, vinegar and garlic) in extreme moderation.  (Honestly, I’m not sure I’m willing to do that.  What will I do without my homemade kimchi?)  We finished today off with some incredible stretches and a couple of bends and inversions.

This is the part of the post where I’m totally going to brag on myself.  I mentioned a couple of months ago that my ultimate yoga goal is to be able to do monkey pose.  And while I did not manage (nor did I even attempt) that particular pose during this workshop, I managed to do Feathered Peacock two times!  I was so excited the first time that I actually squealed and yelled for everybody to look at me.  (Bad form, I know.  But I was so surprised and needed confirmation that I was actually doing it!)  I also did handstand twice — albeit with wall support.  (I’m neither brave nor strong enough to do it otherwise — yet, anyway.)

Another highlight of the weekend is that Ms. Byerlein stayed at my house rather than at a hotel.  So while we were both rather exhausted throughout the weekend, it was nice to have company — as well as a calming, serene presence — in the house.

In related news, I’m taking a cue from the incomparable Miss Vicki and adding another NaMo to my BloPo effort.  Specifically, I’ve committed myself to a minimum of 30 minutes of asana yoga practice every day for the month of November.  I typically attend classes Monday through Thursday, and I do a little something (emphasis on “little”) on the weekends.  But for the month of November I’m shooting for at least a half hour on Friday, Saturday and Sunday as well.  This will likely be more difficult than posting.  While I lurve yoga, it’s more difficult for me to remain focused and intentional when I practice alone rather than with others.

Note:  I just noticed that my posts are showing up with the wrong date and time.  While I’d like to blame this on the end of Daylight Saving Time, it’s probably because my WordPress account is set up for another time zone.  I, of course, have no idea how to change this without imploding Miss Vicki’s careful work.  I’ve edited the time and date to reflect the accurate time/date stamp information for yesterday’s and today’s posts. I promise I’m not lying; after all, there’s no way I was awake after midnight Saturday because I was dead to the world after the yoga workshop.



I’m Funnier Than the Average Bear

12:04 am · category: Body of Mine, Yogi Me at Yoga You

Alternate Post Title: “Why My Yoga Instructor Hates Me”

I love my yoga class.  I love it so much that I go even if I just ate a giant bowl of black beans and brown rice and will produce so much gas that I could power a small third-world country throughout the hour-long session.  I love it so much that I’ll go even if my arms already ache tremendously from lifting fat-ass dogs all morning.  I love it so much that I pay the extra sawbuck so I can go to all the classes rather than just the one for which I’m registered — even though I’m unemployed and can’t really afford it.

And I need my yoga class.  I knew that already, though, because I’ve seen my strength and flexibility increase dramatically over the last four months.  I’ve experienced the joy of sleeping straight through the night like a normal person.  I’ve felt better about my physical self and finally garnered the gumption to get off my ass to slowly sculpt my 5K Ass.

But my need of my yoga class became especially apparent in the last couple of weeks, because my instructor has begun to reference my Type-A personality in class.  And there is, of course, no arguing with that assessment.  I am a Type-A personality; my harried visage is probably on a Type-A motivational (or de-motivational, as it were) poster somewhere.

But there’s been a real emphasis in my yoga training on not being in competition with your classmates, and I’ve taken it to heart.  My only defense is that I want to be the best “me” I can, rather than the best in the class.  So I’ve channeled my competitive nature into being in competition with myself.   I will not rest until I can do every single pose with the “good” burn rather than the searing pain.*  I won’t stop pushing myself until I can breathe properly rather than whimper when I’m doing any of the poses that engage my stomach muscles.  And while I won’t do anything that hurts me, I’ll be damned if I quit working my ass off before I master the monkey pose.  We’re not even up to that point in class yet, but it’s my goal, dammit!

That said, I guess my weird-ass personality can be a bit disconcerting.  I vacillate between not speaking at all and bitching rather vocally (or grimacing visibly) about the poses I hate.  (I’m thinking of you, anything-involving-my-non-existent-ab-muscle poses.)  And I sometimes accidentally-on purpose turn my yoga class into my own personal comedy store, wherein I try out my new material.  (I miss teaching in that respect.  Teenagers are always a good audience.)

So I’m sort of dreading tomorrow’s yoga class, since this is the email I just sent my yoga instructor:

“My yoga clothes don’t have pockets, so I tucked a couple of aspirin in my sports bra before leaving the house tonight.  (I’m all the time losing stuff in there.  It’s like a black hole.  One time I found Stephen Hawking nosing around under my areola with a telescope and geiger counter.)  My intention was to take the aspirin on the way, but then I forgot all about it.  When I got undressed at home I could find only one aspirin, which was sort of dissolved around the edges by my boob sweat.  I don’t remember doing any inversions tonight in class, so I probably lost it when I was standing on my head in the smell-good aisle at Walgreens afterwards.  (I’m kidding!  Probably.  I don’t remember doing any inversions at Walgreens, either.)  But you might want to do a visual scan of the carpet before class tomorrow in case the place is littered with acetaminophen.”

*I have never actually had a searing pain in yoga class, because I’ll push myself just to that point without actually going there.  But I have had the strange experience of my ears “stopping up” — like when you drive into the hills or are on an airplane — in inversion poses so that I have to equalize the pressure.  That was kind of weird.

Note that my yoga studio is called Yoga You.  Hence, my Category descriptor of “Yogi Me at Yoga You.”



Random Bits

8:14 pm · category: Body of Mine, Yogi Me at Yoga You
  • Congratulations to Angela, aka. Podgy, who won the healing bracelet contest!  There will be a new contest at some point next month.
  • I am both disappointed and thrilled that the Olympics will be over in a few hours.  I’m disappointed because the Games gave me something entertaining to watch during the usual barren TV landscape that is late summer.  But I’m also thrilled because I’m tired of crying three to four times a night.  It’s never those athlete spotlights with a come-from-behind story designed to make me choke up that do it, either.  It’s always something silly like the roar of the crowd as the first marathoner enters the stadium.
  • I think I might have had my first migraine ever yesterday.  Wow, that really sucked.  I hope it never happens again.
  • One of my friends had both an upper and lower GI this week, which he shared in great detail in an hilarious email.  This was my favorite part: “…I don’t remember him [the doctor] saying anything except ‘Laura, we need to remove that for biopsy.’  I could see what it was on screen.  It looked like a balloon ready for takeoff, all someone had to due was remove the ropes and drop some ballast.  Hell, that may be where Stephen Fawcett disappeared to.”  Man, that made me laugh really hard.
  • I am the only person in my yoga class who can stand on her head.  What my classmates don’t know is that I can always stand on my head.  I have a bad habit of showing how drunk I’m not by standing on my head.  The problem is that I might not be able to walk or stand on my feet, but I can still stand on my head.  If I’m ever imbibing in your presence and offer to stand on my head, take the bottle away from me and put me to bed.

Okay, that’s all.  I hope the drummer guys come back for the Closing Ceremonies.  They were freakin’ awesome!