Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Wednesday confessional: I've been doing yoga.

I've gotten a bit out of shape in the past two months. Oddly, lots of people seem to think I've lost weight (and I have lost the baby weight, but I lost that before anyone started commenting on it), but mostly I've been a lazy bum.

Confession: Since my mom began chemotherapy in December, I have had her car -- you know, lest I need to run errands for her or take her to the hospital at 3 am. It also means I've been driving the 0.3 mile to the grocery and 0.5 mile to preschool and the 0.5 mile to her house. It's ridiculous.

In light of that, I have another confession: I have been going to yoga.

You might be thinking: this is an artist who is also a vegetarian, who doesn't own a car, who had a home birth ... of COURSE she does yoga, right?

Well, I've done a few yoga videos and podcasts here and there, specifically prenatal ones to prepare for birth, but I've only ever been to a handful of classes over the past 10 years. I have not actually ever enjoyed a yoga class.

Truthfully, I don't like group things -- except bands. My social anxiety kicks in, and even though I know yoga isn't about the other people, I still feel like there is always someone there who is either super loud about how healthy he is or who is doing handstands at me ... "as a warmup." I'm trying to not care anymore, even though I do wish I could wear an invisibility cloak to class.

But in the past 14 days, I have been to 12 yoga classes. 


I'm not going to lie and say that I love them -- yet. But I love that I have gone to them. I love being a little bit sore. I love being able to touch my toes again. These are much more fun than any previous classes I've attended, and I look forward to them. The front desk crew knows me by name now (and offered a bit of therapy after class today), and I've even brought my mom to a couple of the more gentle classes.

But, secretly, I think I really like the ones that make me sweat.

I skipped a day last Friday, and that afternoon I was an irritable, complaining and generally horrible person. (I know, I know, I'm too hard on myself.) I'm not sure if it's the exercise, the meditation or perhaps simply the alone time, but something about having done yoga makes my head a lot lighter -- what a revelation, right?

I have questioned whether blocking out a 2-hour chunk of my day to use a babysitter and not focusing on my career is the smart thing to do. But I'm sticking with it a few more weeks -- at least until I can go up the stairs without panting.

Today I went to a morning yoga class and the babysitter offered
to stay extra so I could get some writing done and work
on my taxes. WINNER. 
Shout out to my brilliant sister-in-law who has been watching the baby, so I can go get sweaty. Folks, it's amazing what having another adult around the house has already done for my well-being.

Thanks for the nice folks at 502 Power Yoga for opening shop within walking-distance of my house -- although, who am I kidding? I've driven my parents' car to every class so far. (Face-smack)

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