I'm sore - YAY!

Last night, after much talk, talk, talking about it, I actually went to a yoga class!

My friend and neighbor Kelly (Abby and Maya's mom) and I pulled ourselves away from the loveliness of dinnertime with twin 4-year-olds (and in my case, a 2-year-old) and went to do something restorative and relaxing for ourselves.

Only thing: This class was not relaxing at all! It was HARD. Despite being a wiry, ponytailed hippie who is headed to Colorado this summer to legally smoke weed with his parents, this instructor was not the singsongy "clear your mind, think about your breaths, focus on you, no judgment" kind of teacher, with chimes and flutey music playing in the background. This dude was hard core, all about strength and stretch and bone alignment. There were no candles. No music! Just the sound of human beings grunting and breathing and wanting to cry. Oh wait. Maybe that was just me.

I don't know if it's because he's tougher than the yoga instructors I'm used to, or if it's that I'm so, so, so, so, so, so (add 27 additional so's here) out-of-shape, but at certain points, my muscles were quivering from bending and holding poses. Instead of regulating my breathing and heart-rate, this class made my heart was pumping like I was on the treadmill!

Seriously, once, in between trying to freakin' focus on my breathing during a pose I thought, "We signed up for 'Beginner's Yoga,' not CrossFit!

In my pre-kid years, after hot yoga (which is my favorite), I would leave feeling limber and cleansed, like all the sweating and stretching had pushed toxins (both physical and emotional) out of my body. I felt like I could breathe and think more clearly.

After yoga last night, all I felt was tired!

But this morning, I woke up feeling soreness in my arms and neck and shoulders. It was a pleasant feeling, something I hadn't felt in years! That warm achiness that comes from knowing you've just pushed your body to do things it's capable of doing, but just never given the chance.  I like feeling aware of my body -- and knowing that if I keep this up, my body will get stronger, those stretches will be less taxing, the poses less impossible to hold without quaking.

I might still try to find a class that gives me the relaxation and inner-cleansing I loved so much about hot yoga. But for now, I'm not going to run away from the hard work this class looks like it's going to be.

Namaste.

#FortyFine

Morning person, I am not

Have I ever shared with you just how much of a morning person I am not?

No?

Allow me to list the things I like to do less than wake up early:

• Watch horror movies
• Run/jog
• Deprive myself of chocolate
• Clean up vomit
• Litter
• Pick the shredded cheese out of a salad when I clearly told the server, "No cheese, please."

OK. There are probably many other things, like "watch one of my kids be sick and not be able to help," and "hurt people's feelings," but those kinds of things are givens.

Anyway, it is with that context that I confess: I did not get up this morning to get on the treadmill.

The kids were off from school for some reason, so we didn't have to get up to get them ready, and I decided to take advantage of the extra few minutes of quiet, warmth and comfy-ness. I can't even say I overslept. I was semi-awake but made a conscious decision to snooze. I made it exactly one day.  I suck at follow-through, yo. Especially at 6 a.m..

But OK - I am determined to do something to make up for it.

I just finished my lunch (a salad with tuna, and a very small cup of tomato soup. Not a French fry or a brownie in sight) and now I am going to go for a little walk around our building. It's not the same as power-walking on the treadmill, with my heart rate pumping. But it's something.

(Hmmm. Maybe I'll stop at the gas station on the corner and buy a pack of peanut chews. No! NO! Nooooooo!)