Oracle of the Obvious
Good god is it hot. Stunning revelation, no? In Urbania yesterday, it hit 96%, with at least 50% humidity. For this desert girl, that's just no way to live. Sometime around 4 p.m., everyone in Urbania and environs simultaneously turned on their window air conditioners (including me. I am single-handedly destroying the environment with freon), and promptly blew out the power in my neighborhood for about 45 minutes. Let me report that there is nothing sadder than two of your furriest housemates waking from their cool spots in front of the air conditioner and then grumpily moving to the tile in the kitchen for their naps.
With little to do at home but sweat, I had a moment of inspiration: it's suddenly my own home Bikram studio!! Except without the instruction! Or any of the skills! So, after a 6 month hiatus from yoga, I spent about an hour yesterday running through the Ashtanga first series (about as much of it as I could remember). Part of the reason I haven't been back to yoga in so long (since my favorite instructor began teaching only a late class) is the dread of having lost everything it took me so long to acquire, and the pain involved in that. This is much like my experience with running. It took me two years to work up to running a ten-mile race. Then I moved to the snow-covered north and stopped for a semester--and that was it. No way am I going through that hell all over again (plus, I've really come to love my toenails as they are, instead of blackened. Call me vain.).
So, individual practice at home was strangely delightful, complete with the incredible sweatiness that accompanied it (try to avoid the mental picture). At home, unlike in class, you can hold onto postures that are more difficult, spend time correcting your form; all the things that I can miss in the flow of Ashtanga poses. Granted, I didn't push myself nearly as hard as I would have in a class, but a start is better than nothing. And I was forced to be conscious of the difference between what I feel like after doing yoga (wrung out, hungry, calm) vs. what I feel like after going to the gym (shaky, ravenous, hyper). I know, I know. Obvious, but I need the reminder anyway.
And for you excessive sweat-ers out there? This thing TOTALLY works. Hooray! No more slippage! And pretty! And washable! It's all good!
With little to do at home but sweat, I had a moment of inspiration: it's suddenly my own home Bikram studio!! Except without the instruction! Or any of the skills! So, after a 6 month hiatus from yoga, I spent about an hour yesterday running through the Ashtanga first series (about as much of it as I could remember). Part of the reason I haven't been back to yoga in so long (since my favorite instructor began teaching only a late class) is the dread of having lost everything it took me so long to acquire, and the pain involved in that. This is much like my experience with running. It took me two years to work up to running a ten-mile race. Then I moved to the snow-covered north and stopped for a semester--and that was it. No way am I going through that hell all over again (plus, I've really come to love my toenails as they are, instead of blackened. Call me vain.).
So, individual practice at home was strangely delightful, complete with the incredible sweatiness that accompanied it (try to avoid the mental picture). At home, unlike in class, you can hold onto postures that are more difficult, spend time correcting your form; all the things that I can miss in the flow of Ashtanga poses. Granted, I didn't push myself nearly as hard as I would have in a class, but a start is better than nothing. And I was forced to be conscious of the difference between what I feel like after doing yoga (wrung out, hungry, calm) vs. what I feel like after going to the gym (shaky, ravenous, hyper). I know, I know. Obvious, but I need the reminder anyway.
And for you excessive sweat-ers out there? This thing TOTALLY works. Hooray! No more slippage! And pretty! And washable! It's all good!
posted by kfluff at 9:40 AM
2 Comments:
I'm impressed. I whine these days going up and down the steps of my townhouse. It's just too damn hot.
You can retract the "impressed" Beth. I feel like I should put both my arms in a sling right now, except that it would be like wearing long sleeves.
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