HA! As if. I despise cigarettes and I tend toward foofy lady drinks like cosmopolitans and chardonnay. However, my voice sounds all raspy like I had a late night of debauchery, alcohol and smokes.
Since starting yoga a year and a half ago, I've never had anything worse than a tiny case of the sniffles, but I've had a tickly sore throat for about a week which has morphed into a gravelly voice and an annoying cough along with a tiny bit of congestion. Fortunately, I don't feel bad though it definitely makes me think twice before I yell up the stairs at my kids.
I felt bad yesterday, but that was self-imposed. The night before I went to a jewelry party, the kind of thing I despise, like Creative Memories and Pampered Chef or whatever. However, the jewelry for sale was actually beautiful, and I bought myself a pair of big silver hammered hoops, as an early birthday present for myself. Also I drank a bunch of wine. Someone had brought some wasabi almonds from Trader Joe's, and oh my gosh! Those things are the bomb.
Anyway, I stayed out until after midnight, then came home and got in Will's bed, since Lee was recovering from a stomach bug. I didn't fancy breathing in his germs all night. That might have been better, though, than trying to sleep while Will hogged the covers and said things in his sleep like "gimme back my bionicle!" and "I want dessert!" So I got about four and a half hours of sleep and all day I felt like ass. I met some friends for coffee in the morning before I had to go to a volunteer project (organizing a boatload of gifts for underprivileged kids in a church gym) with them, and right as we were leaving I spilled coffee all down my sweater. So I looked like ass too.
Last night for dinner I made the kids Kraft macaroni & cheese and I threw in a can of chicken. They were thrilled. Tonight I am making this Alice Waters pasta recipe that goes something like, put some olive oil in a pan. When it heats, throw in some minced garlic and a couple of anchovy fillets and stir until the anchovies are breaking up and the garlic is fragrant. Pour in some heavy cream and a can of drained fire-roasted tomatoes (or fresh if they're decent). Stir it all around until it is heated through, then toss with pasta (the recipe recommends whole wheat fettucine, though I will use low-carb linguine). Garnish with chopped flat leaf parsley and grated parmesan. Yum.
I haven't had much in the way of practice this week. I went to primary series on Tuesday, and instead of leading the class, John practiced with us, at a very fast pace. It wasn't bad, though I would have like to slow it down a bit. Wednesday morning I had errands to run and it was the start of ladies' holiday, so I didn't go to Hot Power Fusion like I normally do on Wednesday. Thursday I don't normally practice. Today I was expecting my parents to come by sometime in the morning, so I didn't go to the primary series class at the hot studio, though I've about decided that I'm done with that class. I did manage to throw my mat down and do five surya namaskar a's while my soup was heating for lunch today though!
I have been playing around a bit with the basic headstand in the last few weeks and I have discovered that allowing a bit more weight to rest on the crown of my head makes a huge difference. My problem has always been my fatigue at that point in the series, and I'm not usually able to hold it for more than fifteen quick breaths. Now that I allow more weight on my head, I can hold it for twenty normal breaths with no problem. I have not experienced any ill effects on my neck, either. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be done. Maybe the amount of weight that you allow your neck to bear is an individual thing. It sure has made headstand easier for me.
I normally practice on Saturdays but tomorrow morning is the annual Christmas parade in downtown Atlanta. It's a tradition, so I'm bagging yoga & we're going. Then we'll get the Christmas tree and put up all our decorations. I'm looking forward to it. Last year when we did that my sister-in-law was here and mixed up these champagne and vodka cocktails for us while we decorated. Without going into details, I'll just say that champagne and vodka is not a combination that works for me, and I'm glad that those won't be on the decorating menu this year!
Friday, November 30, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Lord, deliver me from Your followers.
It's official, if it wasn't already: Georgia is one of the biggest hick states in the nation!
You know when the governor starts praying for rain, that he's run out of ideas. We had about ten minutes of rain at our house last night, so I guess technically his prayers were answered.
Meanwhile, a country club dweller in the northern 'burbs used something like 440,000 gallons of water in October. It's safe to assume that he's not practicing the "if it's yellow, let it mellow" philosophy of water conservation.
In spite of the drought, or perhaps because of it, the leaves around here are spectacular this fall.
This Japanese maple is next to our driveway:
These trees are two doors down from us:
This red maple is in our back yard (I took this picture yesterday, and it's even more brilliantly red today):
And this is the view up the street:
So when I posted last, on Monday, I stated that I had no excuses for not practicing at home Tuesday morning. When I left for my mammogram on Tuesday morning, though, I just knew it wasn't going to happen...that sense of urgency was gone. However, I did manage five a's and three b's, at least...I didn't even change, I just kicked off my shoes, pulled off the long-sleeve tee that I had over a tank, and threw my mat down. I also stretched out over my exercise ball, which I have been doing almost daily in order to get the kinks out of my upper back.
Yesterday I did a hot fusion class, and afterward worked on my backbending...John has been having us lower down onto our forearms and clasp our hands in backbend, and I couldn't quite get my forearms down the last time I tried. So after the hot class, I did a few backbends, then lowered, and my arms went down and my hands met, but I couldn't interlace my fingers. That backbending was hard on my lower back yesterday; I had to take a few ibuprofen when I got home.
Tomorrow is yoga for sloths, I mean, the ashtanga class at the local studio.
You know when the governor starts praying for rain, that he's run out of ideas. We had about ten minutes of rain at our house last night, so I guess technically his prayers were answered.
Meanwhile, a country club dweller in the northern 'burbs used something like 440,000 gallons of water in October. It's safe to assume that he's not practicing the "if it's yellow, let it mellow" philosophy of water conservation.
In spite of the drought, or perhaps because of it, the leaves around here are spectacular this fall.
This Japanese maple is next to our driveway:
These trees are two doors down from us:
This red maple is in our back yard (I took this picture yesterday, and it's even more brilliantly red today):
And this is the view up the street:
So when I posted last, on Monday, I stated that I had no excuses for not practicing at home Tuesday morning. When I left for my mammogram on Tuesday morning, though, I just knew it wasn't going to happen...that sense of urgency was gone. However, I did manage five a's and three b's, at least...I didn't even change, I just kicked off my shoes, pulled off the long-sleeve tee that I had over a tank, and threw my mat down. I also stretched out over my exercise ball, which I have been doing almost daily in order to get the kinks out of my upper back.
Yesterday I did a hot fusion class, and afterward worked on my backbending...John has been having us lower down onto our forearms and clasp our hands in backbend, and I couldn't quite get my forearms down the last time I tried. So after the hot class, I did a few backbends, then lowered, and my arms went down and my hands met, but I couldn't interlace my fingers. That backbending was hard on my lower back yesterday; I had to take a few ibuprofen when I got home.
Tomorrow is yoga for sloths, I mean, the ashtanga class at the local studio.
Monday, November 12, 2007
I feel like a real grownup now.
I'm going for my first mammogram early tomorrow morning. Can't say I'm looking forward to it, but since I have the chest of a twelve-year-old, I hear it won't hurt much.
Tomorrow morning's primary series is canceled - there is a yoga retreat and John says he has too much to do. Wish I were going on the yoga retreat - they're going to the Keys for five days.
Instead, if I want to practice tomorrow, it's going to have to be in my living room. No excuses.
Actually, I've been thinking that the purpose of the snails-pace Friday class might be to make me decide that practicing on my own would be preferable to having to pace myself alongside people who have never done yoga before, let alone Ashtanga.
We shall see. A sudden and intense desire to practice alone at home would make my life easier. Fake it 'til I make it, maybe.
My third-grader's teacher is out on her honeymoon this week, and my son and his friend are swearing that today's substitute was named - wait for it - Mrs. Butt. They promise they are not making it up. The one they had on Friday was named Mrs. Rocks. With names like that, they belong in a Captain Underpants book. To their credit, they said Mrs. Butt was old but that she was a good storyteller. But how perfect is that, a substitute teacher with a name like Mrs. Butt? Imagine the possibilities!
Tomorrow morning's primary series is canceled - there is a yoga retreat and John says he has too much to do. Wish I were going on the yoga retreat - they're going to the Keys for five days.
Instead, if I want to practice tomorrow, it's going to have to be in my living room. No excuses.
Actually, I've been thinking that the purpose of the snails-pace Friday class might be to make me decide that practicing on my own would be preferable to having to pace myself alongside people who have never done yoga before, let alone Ashtanga.
We shall see. A sudden and intense desire to practice alone at home would make my life easier. Fake it 'til I make it, maybe.
My third-grader's teacher is out on her honeymoon this week, and my son and his friend are swearing that today's substitute was named - wait for it - Mrs. Butt. They promise they are not making it up. The one they had on Friday was named Mrs. Rocks. With names like that, they belong in a Captain Underpants book. To their credit, they said Mrs. Butt was old but that she was a good storyteller. But how perfect is that, a substitute teacher with a name like Mrs. Butt? Imagine the possibilities!
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Jumping through & jumping back: Dream the Impossible Dream
The last couple of practices I've felt my chattarungas improved a bit, though jump throughs/jump backs seem a lifetime away. I dutifully lift up and attempt to jump back every time, though it seems that unless my arms grow a few more inches, it's not going to happen. My knees hit the mat halfway back, and I reposition my hands so that I can lift my legs up again and shoot them back.
My inability to jump back is probably related to a lack of core strength; my inability to jump through is probably a technique thing. I find myself moving my hands further apart in order to jump through with bent legs, so I am probably jumping more forward than up. I've studied David Swenson's photographs and explanations about floating, but I can't seem to make it happen.
I am also struggling with twisting to the left, because of increasing stiffness and pain in my left hip and lower back. I can barely catch my wrist in mari c and I usually spend the posture holding my breath, waiting for it to be over.
Today I went to a hot class. I like to practice inverting and or backbending after a hot class, because I am not so fatigued in the upper body as I am at the backbending and inverting points in the primary series. I didn't invert today because I had my hair pulled back in two of those jaw-clip things - it is at a painful point in the growing out process - so I worked on backbending. I did one backbend during the class, when you're given the choice to do either modified bridge or full backbend, and I really really tried to push through my chest and armpits, gently pushing with my legs in order to help straighten my arms.
After class, I did it again and since a few people had left I was able to turn my head just a bit to see myself in the side mirror and I was pleasantly surprised to see that my backbend looked much more rounded through my back than it feels. Some days my lower back feels very cooperative; during Tuesday's primary series I felt like I had only one point of articulation in my back and I was about to snap at that point.
Once again, my struggles to progress in the series come back to stamina. At the point at which it's time to backbend during primary series, I'm pretty tired. John also loves to tell us to hold our backbends for thirty breaths, or to walk ourselves 180 degrees, when it's all I can do to stay up with my quads screaming and my wrists aching.
It seems like I am constantly fretting about my practice and feeling frustrated because it is too much this, or not enough that. At least once a day I wonder why I bother when the frustration at my inability to practice enough - or at my lack of motivation to practice alone - is nearly equal to the benefits I feel.
Then last night I was reading Anne Lamott's book "Grace (Eventually)", which is wonderful. She really lays it all out there in a way that makes you laugh, yet realize that you, and probably everyone else around, are as warped as she is. She was writing about sitting through a dull service at her church in a bad mood. "I sat with a look of grim munificence, like so many of your better Christians, exuding mental toxins into the atmosphere." She chills out after a bit - which she calls grace happening - and says "I spent the last hour of the service feeling becalmed in a boat, no paddle, no wind springing up, slightly frustrated. But I knew that there would eventually be movement on the water again, and the wind did pick up toward the end of the service, two hours after it began. Driving home, I no longer felt that I must quit this church as soon as possible, any more than I would quit my family after a disastrous holiday meal."
It made me think about my yoga practice in the same light. It just IS, good, bad, whatever. If it's stagnated, it's still mine, and there's something to be learned from that. I need to quit comparing myself to people who are able to practice every day. I need to chill out about wanting to give up on it just because it isn't happening exactly the way I would like.
My inability to jump back is probably related to a lack of core strength; my inability to jump through is probably a technique thing. I find myself moving my hands further apart in order to jump through with bent legs, so I am probably jumping more forward than up. I've studied David Swenson's photographs and explanations about floating, but I can't seem to make it happen.
I am also struggling with twisting to the left, because of increasing stiffness and pain in my left hip and lower back. I can barely catch my wrist in mari c and I usually spend the posture holding my breath, waiting for it to be over.
Today I went to a hot class. I like to practice inverting and or backbending after a hot class, because I am not so fatigued in the upper body as I am at the backbending and inverting points in the primary series. I didn't invert today because I had my hair pulled back in two of those jaw-clip things - it is at a painful point in the growing out process - so I worked on backbending. I did one backbend during the class, when you're given the choice to do either modified bridge or full backbend, and I really really tried to push through my chest and armpits, gently pushing with my legs in order to help straighten my arms.
After class, I did it again and since a few people had left I was able to turn my head just a bit to see myself in the side mirror and I was pleasantly surprised to see that my backbend looked much more rounded through my back than it feels. Some days my lower back feels very cooperative; during Tuesday's primary series I felt like I had only one point of articulation in my back and I was about to snap at that point.
Once again, my struggles to progress in the series come back to stamina. At the point at which it's time to backbend during primary series, I'm pretty tired. John also loves to tell us to hold our backbends for thirty breaths, or to walk ourselves 180 degrees, when it's all I can do to stay up with my quads screaming and my wrists aching.
It seems like I am constantly fretting about my practice and feeling frustrated because it is too much this, or not enough that. At least once a day I wonder why I bother when the frustration at my inability to practice enough - or at my lack of motivation to practice alone - is nearly equal to the benefits I feel.
Then last night I was reading Anne Lamott's book "Grace (Eventually)", which is wonderful. She really lays it all out there in a way that makes you laugh, yet realize that you, and probably everyone else around, are as warped as she is. She was writing about sitting through a dull service at her church in a bad mood. "I sat with a look of grim munificence, like so many of your better Christians, exuding mental toxins into the atmosphere." She chills out after a bit - which she calls grace happening - and says "I spent the last hour of the service feeling becalmed in a boat, no paddle, no wind springing up, slightly frustrated. But I knew that there would eventually be movement on the water again, and the wind did pick up toward the end of the service, two hours after it began. Driving home, I no longer felt that I must quit this church as soon as possible, any more than I would quit my family after a disastrous holiday meal."
It made me think about my yoga practice in the same light. It just IS, good, bad, whatever. If it's stagnated, it's still mine, and there's something to be learned from that. I need to quit comparing myself to people who are able to practice every day. I need to chill out about wanting to give up on it just because it isn't happening exactly the way I would like.
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