I’m back at yoga. It’s only Monday, the first Monday I have been, so not sure why I’m saying ‘back’.
My little yellow blocks of achievement haven’t progressed any further down the aisle. I’m still showing 50 shades of white.
It’s early. Very early. For a 6pm class I left work at 5, quickly changed and came straight here, even though it’s a two minute drive. I remember Kacey saying classes could get busy and I have an embarrassing fear of coming so late I can’t find a place to squeeze in my mat.
I’m paranoid that instead I will hover, recently purchased, fresh still curling at the edges mat in hand, squinting through the dim lights because I forgot my glasses, trying to find a spot to sweat amongst everyone else.
I have always hated being late.
Even so, I was so early I sat in the car for 15 minutes and waited until I saw a few others with yoga mat in hand entering before coming in. As much as I hate to be late, I also hate being the first one to arrive.
Like a creature of habit I put my mat down in the same place I have practiced the last two days I’ve been here. Simone, a fellow challenger was taking her usual daily instagram so I left her in peace and instead ventured out back to the main room and took another woeful look of the scoreboard.
It’s so woeful that the moment new people start to arrive I venture back in the room, notebad and pencil in hand and lie on my purple sanctuary, trying not to think of how many make up classes I still have and how few days I have to do it in.
I’m nervous again.
Not sure why, but I am. Maybe because I don’t have Nisha with me, she did the morning class. Maybe because I am so worried about not filling in my chart and I have always been bad at math and have not worked out how many double, triples and singles I will need to do yet. I think I need to pee again, even though I just did. It’s a nervous pee.
My hips and arms slightly ache from crossfit this morning, and holding my grey-led is slightly painful. The room is so quiet everyone can hear the scratch of my pencil. So much so, I’m conscious of it and move, causing both my knees to crack and send the sound vibrating through the room.
My pants are too big and not the standard lulu lemon edition everyone else has. They make me feel more like a novice. Especially when I only notice they are too big when I feel the top of my undies poking out from the back band and hope I haven’t shown the girl behind me too much of my butt as I bend over my tattered notebook.
Sorry about that if I have.
I need new pants because I am well on my way to crossfit legs. Eg thunder thighs and a small waist.
As the room starts to fill, it gets warmer. I’m already in this morning’s sweaty clothes, which were yesterday’s sweaty clothes, and I’m really hoping I don’t stink this beautiful room out…
Honestly, I thought this entire challenge would be one piece of paleo cake and no biggy.
I mean if I quit sugar and gluten and grain and soy and legumes and god forbid stopped drinking for 36 days then surely this would be a breeze.
Ding dong – wrong again.
How overly self confident I have found myself – a realization the last two challenges have clearly shown me through a rare moment of self awareness.
A bit of stretching, a few deep breaths. Nothing I, a lady with lats and too thick thighs couldn’t handle.
I’m still sore from yesterday.
I don’t know if it was the snatch or the pull ups at crossfit or the hot yoga from the night before or the ring dips and skin the cat from this morning, but my arms are not quite working the way they are meant to.
I couldn’t do my dress up today.
The bottom zip I finally managed to squeeze up after sucking in, but no amount of stretching or pulling could get my tight right arm into a position where it could effectively button the top of my dress.
And I thought yoga was meant to make you more flexible.
It’s not back fat, I keep trying to tell myself, I just can’t do my dress up.
The only other time I can remember having visible back fat was in my wedding dress. When they make it so tight you need a ruler to push down your flesh into the fold of the dress between your shoulders.
One slight incorrect move and you have a second butt crack in your back.
Then you look back on your wedding photos and realize you are never going to be that size again in your life because you starved yourself for months to fit into a dress you would never wear again.
Oh the society we live in!
(Personally my dress was off the special rack, I ate everything I wanted to and am smaller now so look at those photos and am grateful my back fat is hidden).
But I digress. Back in the work change rooms I gave up trying to reach the button on my dress, kept my hair down, my jacket on and snuck upstairs to find fellow crossfiter, brain child of ‘confessions of ladies with lats’ and understander of thick thighs, who in sympathy did the button up for me.
And then tonight, another clothing error – I think I have my pants on back to front.
I’m not quite sure.
This no tag thing lulu has got going on really confuses me at times.
Just like the warrior pose does that I seem to only push into a second after everyone else is steady. My feet slip and slide on my mat, my new, purple, still curling at the edges mat, and as sweat drips off me I struggle to dig my feed into the ground.
I sweat more in yoga that I do in crossfit. Who would have thought?
And now I’m the strange glasses wearing, sweaty feet, pants on backwards large armed and thick thighs girl on the new mat in the corner of a yoga room with a notebook.
If my friends could see me now.
There is a team of us tonight. I’m not longer a loner. Nisha has switched to nights to break it up and two friends from work have also joined. I’m worried their girlish giggles and poses will make me laugh and I have strategically placed my mat right in front of theirs.
It’s hot tonight. Not outside, I mean in the class. I’m slightly worried because l have my long leggings and my sweating has only increased of late, if I was sliding in flow, tonight I will be sprawling.
And there are 28 of us in the room.
I did pack shorts to wear and went to put them on but my recent change in body structure and shape and size has caused them to no longer fit. Too big around the waist, a little too firm on my thighs.
I don’t need falling down shorts as I down my dog in the face of colleagues behind me, so I’ve taken my chances with the long leggings.
My mat is upside down. I’ve only just realized but not entirely sure it matters either. At least my pants are on the right way today.
I ran out of work like a crazed maniac to make it here in time.
It was a struggle, I almost didn’t.
Firstly I put on my pants only to discover a very very VPL so had to ransack the spare emergency supply of sports clothing I leave in my locker at work to find new briefs. Only after I had successfully changed this wardrobe malfunction did I notice the singlet I once ran in quite comfortably now struggled over my back and shoulders and given it was going to be hot yoga tonight and it was quite thick, was just not suitable.
Maybe it shrunk in the wash, although given my recent failures at doing back buttons up, I think something more sinister is at play.
Back to the locker for a new top. Rummaging through the bag I find a gem I forgot I even had – loose fitting singlet much lighter weight. Score!
Finally dressed and ready for my two hour make up session, Yin then Hot, I realize on route to the car I had no water bottle with me after skipping crossfit this morning in preparation for a double up session tonight.
I broke almost all safety regulations as I sprinted back to the car, up three flights of stairs and burst back through the office door. A few startled looks from pricing and my previous marketing colleagues before I jogged through office pods and desks to find my own and grab waiting water bottle, much to the surprise, strange looks and random commentary of my team.
Now if anyone from work is reading this, please replace ‘sprinted/ran/jogged’ with ‘walked briskly’, delete ‘burst’ and insert ‘gently opened’ and rest assured the handrail was held during all three flights of stairs.
Eventually I made it, flustered, only ten minutes early, trying to finish a last minute phone call (not while driving, while stationary in car out front) to my husband regarding his recent high cholesterol diagnosis and arguing with him over the doctor’s advice to quit butter and eggs and eat margarine.
Back me up here Lizzy, Bec & Primal Junction – please!
My overzealous behavior to get into the room even caused a too quick scan of my Kula tag while Kacey was registering a keen new participant and almost resulted in a computer malfunction.
Opps, sorry about that Kacey.
Slow down Stacey – this is Yin for goodness sakes. A yoga class, not a race!
That’s a voice in my head speaking. But my panting and racing mind from the to do list still on the work table has drowned her out.
At least today she has left her pitchfork and horns at home, but she does have that scorn on her face and the librarian look my mother sometimes gets just before launching into a lecture.
It can’t be good.
First observation of my second light class – much more men get involved.
Second observation – I’m still on struggle street with challenge classes given there are three others who have all come in for the double header tonight and all three have more colorful representation that I do on that graph.
So thunder thighs, back fat, nervious novice and I thought Yoga was easy….
- How I Discovered Yoga and Lululemon (theshortlistblog.com)