Ode to Some of My Un-Favorites
I began this year with a ridiculous encounter with yoga. I was not impressed, in the slightest, and had no intention of a repeat attempt. The year moved along, and so did I...all the way to Seattle. I started a new job and attempted to settle-in to new responsibilities, new expectations, and a new home. And somehow, a month ago I gave yoga another try, this time with added heat, high-tempo music, and weights. Being in a hot yoga class was not something I ever would have predicted.
But what's even more surprising than my initial foray into hot yoga is that, a month later, I'm now going 2-3 times a week. Somehow I have found myself establishing a bit of a routine. But that's preposterous!...I hate routines! How could this even be happening?
Well here's the deal: the first month and a half of this new job has been all-consuming and exhausting. I have regularly spent late nights in my office after the school day ends and have gone in on weekends, just to keep from feeling like I'm drowning in work. And with the absence of any obligations or requests of my time (read: no social life), it's been all-too-easy to throw myself into work and let it consume me. I can stay in my office until late, go home and grab a quick dinner, then get right back on my computer to work some more. I have taken the occasional mindless running lap around Green Lake or maybe do something at home that could potentially qualify as a "workout." But these things made it easy for me to phone it in. I could give-in pretty quickly so I could get back to work. They were also lacking any challenge or intensity, which allowed me to mentally be "on the job" even while exercising.
Enter sculpt class. Hot yoga. The thing no one saw coming. I arrive 10-15 minutes early to hopefully grab a spot in the studio which will allow for some level of separation from others in the class (it's the guilt of potentially swinging my sweat onto people combined with wanting to avoid being an eyesore in the middle of the room). And once I unroll my mat, I lay down (I lay down?...I lie down? I still can't figure out if I'm using the word properly) until class begins. The room is hot and at first it's quite uncomfortable. But slowly it normalizes and, as I rest on my mat, I find the most peaceful 10 minutes of my day/week. There is absolutely nothing else I can do at that moment. I can't guilt myself for not popping up and going into the kitchen to wash dishes. I can't roll over and drag a load of clothes to the washing machine. And I certainly can't bust out my phone or computer to handle some emails or attack my constantly expanding to-do list. Nope. I'm stuck there. And I think the heat numbs my brain so I can't even be mentally working.
Somehow the hard floor beneath me becomes so comfortable that I begin to hope the instructor won't come in and I'll be allowed to drift into the sleep that seems just a mere moment away. But instead, the instructor comes. Class begins. It always does. In the opening moments of class, we're invited to "set an intention." I think this is supposed to be the thing I want to focus on in that hour (i.e. patience when can't quite handle a pose/exercise), but I view it as the thing I desire for the days ahead. Lately my intentions have focused a lot on survival, confidence, calm, not losing my mind, and to "just keep breathing." I often forget my intention somewhat quickly into class. But there are times in which I'll come back to it throughout class and use it as motivation. There are times when I'm struggling and I let that intention be my mantra. My hope is that my physical struggle will store-up some points for me to draw from throughout the week.
A cornerstone of the yoga sculpt experience is pushups. Lots. of. pushups. Including the red-headed stepchild of pushups: the spiderman pushup. (Side note: spiderman pushups always seem to be worked-in at the very end of the pushup barrage. We do 3 or 4 different types, which totally torches my arms, but these little buggers always seem to be last...and they're the hardest! Can a girl get a break around here?!) Then toss in some planks, squats, and lifts to work those sad little shoulder muscles that don't usually get a lot of attention. Meanwhile P!nk's Just Like Fire is pouring through the studio and I look like I went swimming with my clothes on. It. is. madness!
But back to the pushups. This has been the place where I have found my strength, my sense of victory, and a new understanding of my capacity to handle challenges. The pushup is the most basic of body-weight exercises and, to me, it says, "I'm in charge here. I can handle this myself." I have noticed the physical changes in my body's ability to handle pushups over the past month, but I've also noticed the mental response triggered within me when faced with another round of pushups. Don't get me wrong, I still roll my eyes and laugh to myself when I hear the abuse that's coming my way, but I do this knowing that I'll tackle it head-on. I may not be able to hang with every single exercise, but whenever I use my arms and core to lower my body and bring it back up again, I feel every ounce of the baddie that I know I can be! I'm in charge here. I can handle this myself.
For the hour that I'm in class, I don't know there's permission slips I need to collect or emails that need my response. I can't think about meetings or agendas. I am focused on that single moment. It's possible that I'm also focused a little bit on the voice inside my head screaming at the instructor, "Are you kidding me?! I hate you so much right now!" Why would I not want something to make me forget my dirty dishes and the boxes that still need unpacking? (Now if only I could find something that would just handle those dishes and boxes for me.)
And for that reason, I've come to create a little space in my life for routine. This doesn't mean I want to start doing things the same way all the time or have no room for spontaneity. What it does mean, however, is that I've developed some appreciation for making time for sculpt class a few times a week. It's so physically demanding that it is undoubtedly keeping my body in shape, but it's also so intense that it gives my brain a break from all the things it's usually working on.
So while you will not find me saying, "That's the way we've always done it," this week I want to tip my hat to developing a routine. And to yoga sculpt. Cheers to the both of you. While I typically mock you (sorry, I am a jerk at my core), this week I want to say thanks. You've kept me above water here in this new city.
The goodness, the love, and the child within me sees all the goodness, love, and childishness in you. Namaste.
But what's even more surprising than my initial foray into hot yoga is that, a month later, I'm now going 2-3 times a week. Somehow I have found myself establishing a bit of a routine. But that's preposterous!...I hate routines! How could this even be happening?
Well here's the deal: the first month and a half of this new job has been all-consuming and exhausting. I have regularly spent late nights in my office after the school day ends and have gone in on weekends, just to keep from feeling like I'm drowning in work. And with the absence of any obligations or requests of my time (read: no social life), it's been all-too-easy to throw myself into work and let it consume me. I can stay in my office until late, go home and grab a quick dinner, then get right back on my computer to work some more. I have taken the occasional mindless running lap around Green Lake or maybe do something at home that could potentially qualify as a "workout." But these things made it easy for me to phone it in. I could give-in pretty quickly so I could get back to work. They were also lacking any challenge or intensity, which allowed me to mentally be "on the job" even while exercising.
Enter sculpt class. Hot yoga. The thing no one saw coming. I arrive 10-15 minutes early to hopefully grab a spot in the studio which will allow for some level of separation from others in the class (it's the guilt of potentially swinging my sweat onto people combined with wanting to avoid being an eyesore in the middle of the room). And once I unroll my mat, I lay down (I lay down?...I lie down? I still can't figure out if I'm using the word properly) until class begins. The room is hot and at first it's quite uncomfortable. But slowly it normalizes and, as I rest on my mat, I find the most peaceful 10 minutes of my day/week. There is absolutely nothing else I can do at that moment. I can't guilt myself for not popping up and going into the kitchen to wash dishes. I can't roll over and drag a load of clothes to the washing machine. And I certainly can't bust out my phone or computer to handle some emails or attack my constantly expanding to-do list. Nope. I'm stuck there. And I think the heat numbs my brain so I can't even be mentally working.
Somehow the hard floor beneath me becomes so comfortable that I begin to hope the instructor won't come in and I'll be allowed to drift into the sleep that seems just a mere moment away. But instead, the instructor comes. Class begins. It always does. In the opening moments of class, we're invited to "set an intention." I think this is supposed to be the thing I want to focus on in that hour (i.e. patience when can't quite handle a pose/exercise), but I view it as the thing I desire for the days ahead. Lately my intentions have focused a lot on survival, confidence, calm, not losing my mind, and to "just keep breathing." I often forget my intention somewhat quickly into class. But there are times in which I'll come back to it throughout class and use it as motivation. There are times when I'm struggling and I let that intention be my mantra. My hope is that my physical struggle will store-up some points for me to draw from throughout the week.
A cornerstone of the yoga sculpt experience is pushups. Lots. of. pushups. Including the red-headed stepchild of pushups: the spiderman pushup. (Side note: spiderman pushups always seem to be worked-in at the very end of the pushup barrage. We do 3 or 4 different types, which totally torches my arms, but these little buggers always seem to be last...and they're the hardest! Can a girl get a break around here?!) Then toss in some planks, squats, and lifts to work those sad little shoulder muscles that don't usually get a lot of attention. Meanwhile P!nk's Just Like Fire is pouring through the studio and I look like I went swimming with my clothes on. It. is. madness!
But back to the pushups. This has been the place where I have found my strength, my sense of victory, and a new understanding of my capacity to handle challenges. The pushup is the most basic of body-weight exercises and, to me, it says, "I'm in charge here. I can handle this myself." I have noticed the physical changes in my body's ability to handle pushups over the past month, but I've also noticed the mental response triggered within me when faced with another round of pushups. Don't get me wrong, I still roll my eyes and laugh to myself when I hear the abuse that's coming my way, but I do this knowing that I'll tackle it head-on. I may not be able to hang with every single exercise, but whenever I use my arms and core to lower my body and bring it back up again, I feel every ounce of the baddie that I know I can be! I'm in charge here. I can handle this myself.
For the hour that I'm in class, I don't know there's permission slips I need to collect or emails that need my response. I can't think about meetings or agendas. I am focused on that single moment. It's possible that I'm also focused a little bit on the voice inside my head screaming at the instructor, "Are you kidding me?! I hate you so much right now!" Why would I not want something to make me forget my dirty dishes and the boxes that still need unpacking? (Now if only I could find something that would just handle those dishes and boxes for me.)
And for that reason, I've come to create a little space in my life for routine. This doesn't mean I want to start doing things the same way all the time or have no room for spontaneity. What it does mean, however, is that I've developed some appreciation for making time for sculpt class a few times a week. It's so physically demanding that it is undoubtedly keeping my body in shape, but it's also so intense that it gives my brain a break from all the things it's usually working on.
So while you will not find me saying, "That's the way we've always done it," this week I want to tip my hat to developing a routine. And to yoga sculpt. Cheers to the both of you. While I typically mock you (sorry, I am a jerk at my core), this week I want to say thanks. You've kept me above water here in this new city.
The goodness, the love, and the child within me sees all the goodness, love, and childishness in you. Namaste.
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