The Time I Farted in Yoga

Remember last week how I declared that the next day was going to be a fresh start?  Well you know what I did that very next morning?  I stopped at McDonalds and enjoyed a cold, refreshing Diet Dr. Pepper and hashbrowns shaped like an oversized pill capsule.  Feeling slightly guilty that I was not listening to my internal desires, I also ordered a fruit and yogurt parfait trying to pick something on the "lighter" side.  I ate it quickly and immediately just beat myself up over my lack of self control-even when I was placing the order I knew I didn't want to do it but I still did.     The rest of the week I struggled with what goals I really wanted to work towards and how I needed to change my mindset.  I had purchased a Groupon for Bikram Yoga and decided that after my introduction class, I was officially going to work towards living the lifestyle I felt proud of.
For whatever reason, yoga has always symbolized peace and acceptance and it just seemed natural to start my journey of healthy living-not dieting, practicing yoga.  I have practiced on and off for the last year-going to usually one class a week, sometimes more.  I have never done Bikram before and even though I thought I was prepared, I definitely was not.
Monday was my first class, I woke up bright and early at 5:15 to take my first class.  I went and was surprised by the lack of sweat I produced.  I was definitely hot, and maybe even moist-but looking at everyone else's towels on the ground they were so soaked that you could make it rain if you twisted the towel.  The class was difficult and I did hurt my shoulder a tiny bit trying to twist it in a way my body didn't want to but I felt really pleased with my first class.
I walked out feeling so proud of myself!  I had a pep in my step until 3:00 when I started to hit the wall at work, but overall content.  I slept like a baby and told Boyfriend I was going to take the evening class so I didn't have to get up so early the next morning.
Last night, a couple of hours before the class I started to become very concerned.  I realized that maybe I was able to take the class so well because it was the first class of the day-the room hadn't had a chance to heat up as much as the last class where it stayed consistently above 100 degrees.  
When walking into class and setting up my mat, I thought, "Hmmm..it isn't really hotter than before.  I think I will be ok!"  I started out strong, I was all one with myself, checking myself out in the mirror and feeling like a rockstar.  Then during my first move on the floor, in all its glory, a little toot escaped.

Now I am almost positive not one other person heard it, or if they did they were polite and ignored it.  But that was just the start of the slope I started to slide down until class was over.  I started to overheat and felt like I was going to throw up.  I was making my own towel drenched in sweat, dripping out the 100 ounces of water I had consumed during the day to stay hydrated.  Each time I bent down, sweat dripped into my eyes and nose, causing me to tear up and choke on my sweat.
I lost it half way into class. I decided I was giving up on my goal, screw Bikram.  I made attempts to start the postures with the class, but each time I was only able to participate 10 seconds before I knew if I went further it would be a lot more than an innocent toot projecting from my body.   I didn't want to leave the class though so I just laid in corpse pose, feeling like I really was on the brink of death.  I was frustrated with how overwhelmingly hot I was and I just wanted to leave.  Every ounce of my clothing on my body felt like it was strangling me and I then realized why all the other girls were wearing the equivalent of modest bikinis.
At the end of class, the instructor made a comment that we were to enjoy the last few minutes of meditation, that we worked so hard for that moment.  I sat there angry that I had let the heat get to me.  I knew that my new lifestyle was going back to the old and that I was giving up.
This morning, even though I had declared to Boyfriend I was done and not going back, I packed something to wear for class tonight-just in case.  Through the day today, I have been mentally preparing myself and finally I made the commitment to stick with what I really want-to feel like I have accomplished something.
Even if that accomplishment is only staying in the room for the full 90 minutes in corpse position, I am going accept that.  I am going to feel proud about it.  Not because I can stay in a blazing torture room for an hour and a half, but because I am finally trying to put my desire to be healthy first over what is easier.
I am still undecided about if Bikram will be for me.  I want it to be, mentally I like the concept and I appreciate that I will be able to see my growth since the classes are consistent.  Regardless though, I am sticking with it for 30 days and then I will decide if it is or not.  If it isn't, I'll just try something new until I finally figure out what is for me.  Because this time time, I really am going to change.

 

Let's Be Real

After I had baby, combined with the fact that I only gained 26 pounds and the power of breastfeeding, not only did I lose the entire 26 pounds I had gained, I added another 20 onto that right away.  To say I was feeling good about myself is an understatement-I had just had a baby and I was the smallest I had been since high school.

Sigh...my tiny waist.  Nobody was asking me when I was due-which is still a common occurrence now despite the fact that I am definitely not pregnant.  Anyway, life got in the way, Baby weaned and back came the 20 pounds that I had lost so I am sitting back at my prepregnancy weight again.

I actually care nothing about the number I weigh,  just how I feel about myself.  I have a lot of mental dialog going back and forth.  If I were to write down my thoughts over the course of the week, it might look like this:

"I feel so big today, nothing fits"

"Huh, I actually am feeling great today.  I can fit in my skinny jeans."

"Whoops, shouldn't have shoved my stomach into those skinny jeans, now I have had to tell two people that I am not pregnant, just have a lot of stomach overflowing in the waist area."

"I wish my stomach didn't blanket Boyfriend's hand when he cuddles me."

"I am just fine the way I am!"

And I do believe that, I am just fine the way I am.  I know I'm not borderline obese, despite what my BMI states (I don't think it accounts for 20 pounds in boobs).  I know that I don't *need* to lose weight.  And I don't really care if I were to gain another 10 pounds.  I just want to feel good about myself, I want to stop feeling like if I just took action I would be back to where I was four months after having a baby.

And this is where I have to be real with myself.  I get onto Boyfriend that actions speak so much more volume that words, and I need to hold myself to that.  If I really cared as much as I think I do, then I would take action.  I would be more active, I would stop eating pure junk, I would make the changes that aligned with my beliefs.

And when I get real, truly, honestly real, I am just lazy.  And I don't care as much as I think I do.  But I want to, and I don't see any reason why I have to be that way.

I'm not saying I'm going to start working out every day, or stop eating food deemed bad for you (because another thing to be real about, food is damn good and I'm not giving up the best parts of it).  I just want to start being more active, I want to set an example for Baby that being active is just part of life.  I don't want to succumb to eating donuts for breakfast because it is quick and cheap because I was too lazy to grab something at home that is a better choice.

So tomorrow is a fresh start.  And if I don't do anything tomorrow, I don't need to do my regular, "well this week is a bust" and try again the next day.  This mindset I want to change, it is a forever thing and I have the rest of my life to figure it out and keep trying.  Tomorrow is just day one. 

It Can Wait

I feel like almost every parent has a picture of their kid pretend driving their car.  Baby is obsessed with having her moments in the front seat.  Maybe because she is still rear facing in her carseat, but the moment she gets a chance to hop in the front seat you can see her growing imagination going wild.  

It is the little moments like this that I realize she observes much more in her backseat mirror than I realize.  She will adjust the rear view mirror, buckle up and start to shift.  She turns her delicate body backwards pretending to back up and then whips around and moves the gear once more, swinging her head backwards making a low, "Vroooooom" noise. 

Cars petrify me now.  I am already feeling anxious about the days when her feet will finally touch the pedals, when she will not just be pretending but actually backing out of our driveway.  I feel like the roads have become more dangerous in even just the last nearly 15 years that I have been driving.   

Talking and texting have become the norm while driving.  I make a conscious effort to not text (but am not immune, of which I am ashamed).  Something has to give between now and her driver's test and I just pray it isn't the lives of others.  

This morning when driving to work, a car nearly crossed the median into my lane.  We weren't going fast, I could see the person looking down, not paying attention.  Nothing physical happened, they adjusted their car and I moved over a lane safely but emotionally it jolted me.  

I am not the best driver, I didn't even take real driver's education.  Boyfriend hates the way I drive (which should be his clue to never ask me to drive!) because he feels I am too absent minded.  And maybe I am, but I hope that I take with me the way I felt this morning and carry it with me going forward.  I want to continue my healthy habits and finally make sure that my phones locked screen remains on until I have arrived to my destination.

If I can't do it for myself, I need to do it for her.  Her behaviors are learned from mine, and I never want to risk her life (now or in the future) just because it couldn't wait. 

It Can Wait