Friday, October 16, 2015

First of all, holy shit!

Secondly ... I had that night in yoga.

Oh, man, it's been a long time. Epic Summer sorta took over my life, and I'll make exactly zero apologies for it. There were races (four triathlons!) that didn't pan out the way I'd hoped, and despite my near-best efforts, I have been unable to lose last year's holiday weight gain. #FirstWorldProblems

Yep, it's October, and I'm still holding on to 2014's Thanksgiving mashed potatoes. They're waving to you as I wright this, from their spot on my left asscheek.

Anyway, here we are smack dab in mid-October, and the struggle remains. I have recently taken some rather interesting steps forward, having some metabolic testing done and sitting with fitness pros to get their advice. I have a plan; it's time to stick with it.

The plan doesn't necessarily include yoga. Most of the time when we get "back on track," it's cardio first (burn, fat, burn!), weights second, and yoga when and if we get around to it. That's not the way it will be for me. Yoga is a top-tier requirement for my physical and emotional health, so I need to fit it into the overall plan. That means there will probably be days when I go to yoga and then I run afterward. There will be more weight-bearing work.

There will be more work, period.

All that being written and acknowledged, let me take you back to last night. See, as I said, it was an epic summer. Not a lot of time to stick with a program, but plenty of food and beverage to skew my fitness world more than slightly awry. As I stood in Studio 2, in the middle of a hot vinyasa class, I felt my capris roll down, as if trying to get away from my middle.

Traitorous lycra bastards.

As I moved through Sun C, I felt like a big girl looking foolish. I felt my entire middle betraying every meal at which I've overindulged for the last year. I felt like I didn't belong. Tears threatened to fall, but I bit them back and went on with my practice.

The cruel voice kept demanding to be heard. I won't share the words; we all have that voice. I'm sure you've heard it, too. But last night, peace and calm won over cruel. Every time I heard something negative, I pushed it away with thoughts and ideas my fellow yogis have given me.
  • It doesn't matter if you can do a pose perfectly.
  • It doesn't matter how you look - it only matters how you feel.
  • This is not a contest; there are no medals in yoga.
  • Go where the pose leads you.
And once again, the tears threatened to fall, but this time not because I went dark inside. This time it was because I went light. I found my way past the mean girl inside, and she gave way to the wild and wonderful encouragement of loved ones.

So as I sit here on my lunch break, enjoying a plate of chicken breast with broccoli and cauliflower, I'm thinking about last night and I'm grateful. Not for the cruel voices, but for the louder ones. The ones from my friends and mentors, who look me in the eye and say "you can do this, and I will help you." My heart is full.

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