Day 10 and a Surprise
I went to bed early last night, too sore to sit and read, but fine to read lying down. Really didn’t want to go to class today but hey, that’s what a challenge is all about, pushing yourself past your comfort zone.
I started the class discouraged, tired, a bit emotionally ragged, so I made a conscious effort to let my mind go, become calm, empty. I found myself drifting, day-dreaming, meditating even, through the first few postures until suddenly we were into Standing Head-to-Knee, which is currently my worst posture. Ideally, it looks like this:
Now, so far I’ve been able to raise my left knee and even lock it momentarily. I can’t pull my elbows and head down yet; maybe one day. Lifting my right knee, however, is a problem. Locking the right knee parallel to the floor? Uh, not happening.
Until today. It was just a couple of snaps, but I did it. I DID it!! And I can still walk!
The rest of the class passed as usual and I’m feeling better today than I did yesterday. I guess I am making progress.
It made me think of babies, and how often just before those big developmental leaps they often regress in their behaviour or abilities. Crankiness just before they learn to walk. Irritability during teething. Frustration as they struggle to learn to hold a pencil. It’s as if the body has to gather itself back, inwards, in preparation for the leap ahead. I always tried to cut my kids slack when I could see they were about to hit a period of rapid growth, or meet a new challenge.
It’s harder to do that for myself.
To extend the metaphor: Rationally, I know I’m making progress in my writing. I’m pushing myself to do more, try new things, and projects are coming together. But some days, I feel like a toddler throwing down his crayon in frustration because the picture isn’t what he imagined in his head. I’m impatient. Disgusted. Discouraged. I just want to pitch a fit, throw down my laptop and howl.
Maybe this means I’m about to achieve something new, overcome something, work through a plot problem.
If I can touch my forehead to my right knee, I can probably do anything. Even sell a book!
Day 9 Sore and Tired
My car smells like the inside of a gym locker. A boy’s gym locker. And I’m tired. Really, really tired. And my right hamstring is reaching a stage of tenderness that, if it was a roast, it’d be just about done.
21 days to go. Yay.
Day 8
Well, I survived my first week of the challenge. And I wrote over 16 pages in my current work-in-progress.
I haven’t lost any weight over the past week. (This isn’t a big surprise, since I keep eating pie.) And given my sturdy Russian-Dutch genetics, I’ll never be a svelt 120-lb sylph.
Let’s be real: I’ll never be a 140-lb sylph. I just want to lose the back-fat, tone up and keep myself fit enough so that a day at my keyboard doesn’t cripple me.
Today’s practice was relatively easy. It didn’t feel as hot as usual, so I checked the temperature on the way out: 106 degrees.
I guess I’ve acclimatized.