Electrolicious

Defintely an anxious week around these parts; I’ve been so busy worrying about shit that I’ve hardly had time to get excited about this weekend’s campout. Thank god I have tomorrow off from work so that I can slowly untangle my shoulders from my ears. Jeepers.

For the last three weeks I’ve been trying a new morning routine: yoga as soon as I wake up. It’s part of a new theory I’m working on: that it’s better for me to wake up from the body inwards instead of from the brain outwards. For years my wake up routine has been pee, put on tea water, check email. I go from bed to chair, and I don’t think it’s especially healthy. Sometimes I can get a little too wrapped up in my brain, you know?

Now I’m trying to wake up and immediately dive into at least a few sun salutations. I’ve only missed a couple days so far, and I’ve felt the impact of doing so … how much less anxious would I have been yesterday if I woke up through stretching instead of reading personal project-related emails and diving right into problem solving and project management and decision making?

The upside of this anxiety has been that I’ve been waking up really early (5:45 this morning) which leaves me lots of time to do a more complete set of asanas. This morning it was 5 Surya Namaskara A, 5 Surya Namaskara B, then several Parivrtta Trikonasanas, Parivrtta Sarsvakonasanas, and warrior poses, and closing with some of my beloved pigeon pose. It’s especially awesome doing all this in the backyard — sun salutations actually facing the sun? How novel!

Dre and I are still going to yoga. We always at least make it to one Ashtanga primary series a week, and then usually another vinyasa class on top of that. It’s going pretty well and feels like a good way to work my muscles.

A few years ago I tried working out in a gym with weights, and the result was that my arms got fucking HUGE. And it wasn’t really attractive to me. Then I tried running stairs for six months last year. The result was that my ass got fucking HUGE from the glute muscle mass. My goal was to have my jeans fit better, not worse. Realistically, the issue is that I have a stocky, muscular body that’s awfully soft, but when given a chance turns into a little bulky hulk. Hence, yoga is a great choice because it stretches those bulky muscles out, and I can use all the lengthening I can get.

Andreas and I are perfectly opposite in our yoga practices: I’m the amazing gumby girl, and I can fold in half, and twist in two without blinking. Andreas, meanwhile grunts as he tries to reach his toes, but is the master of strength. While I quiver in fear over the idea of (gulp) putting any weight on my hands, he’s hanging out for 20 breaths at a time, happily heels over head. Between the two of us, we’re one decent yogi. Wonder twin deficiencies — unite!

The weirdest aspect for me about yoga is that I’m blind when I practice. I don’t wear my glasses or contacts and this weird thing happens: when I can’t see anybody, I assume nobody can see me. Our yoga teachers probably think I’m weird little woman, because my face is always totally vacant and I can never tell when they’re looking at me so I don’t ever give them any sort of cues that I’m listening. Whatever: it actually helps me sort of turn the focus internally when I can’t even see my mat.