I have spent the last few days really just holed up in my own brain again. I've been on a non-stop comparison roller coaster for no reason. I've been angry. Why can't I do this or that? Why isn't my relationship like this, or why don't I look like that by now? Why doesn't my boss do xyz for me?
Really, it's pretty ugly. I've been on the verge of tears periodically too, either from pride or frustration. These moments hit me randomly. For instance, in gym class I have the realization in the midst of a really heart-pounding-bust-your-ass-routine. You know the kind, where sweat is dripping off your face and you think your thighs are going to burst into flames because YES! you really do feel the burn so much, it hurts. I mean, it really hurts. Internally, I'm thinking, "God, what am I doing here? I'm still so out of shape. I've been doing this for months and a push up is still beyond my reach and these squats are killing me, but...but... I'm here." And I guess that's all that matters. I showed up and I'm doing the work that it takes.
That's one thing that is repeated in any yoga class I go to. You showed up. Congrats, you win a York peppermint patty. (I wish)
I did have to drag myself out of the house on a lazy Sunday after a long week and a hard Saturday workout. That's step 1 though: getting out the door. It's the hardest thing to do; and sometimes it will get easier at your final destination, or it won't. This weekend it didn't.
I rushed to class because my bus was late, no surprise there. I had been to this one class before in Berkeley. It's a heated power yoga studio, but they offered a "fundamental flow" which they now call "power yoga essentials" class--i.e. power yoga for dummies.
The teacher was really focused on form--which I need and I liked her so I decided to go back. Unfortunately the last time I took this class was months ago. I showed up exactly at 4pm and was the only one there. There we stood, mat to mat, face to face ( a couple of Silver Spoons) and just smiled at each other. The last time it was just me and an instructor, it was my first bikram class and an ex-military man in a Speedo showed up to bark orders at me. I started having PTSD until two more girls showed up a minute later. Phew.
We were a mix of gals. There was me, the pseudo newbie, but having basic experience, the other newbie, who just happened to be more flexible than me and then, the gymnast. See, I'm comparing already, and I can sense you rolling your eyes too.
We each got individual attention and I struggled through some of the most basic poses. It was like starting from scratch since my form has been off all this time. No one really bothered to fix me in previous classes and sometimes I just can't fix myself. I also never had the luxury of an almost private class where the teacher was really focused on ME.
While I sweat it out in repeated planks and cobras I could feel my triceps shake. I felt like no matter how much training I've done so far, I still have the piddly upper body strength of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. I mentioned my troubles with inversions and twists to her and she made an effort to really highlight those postures and alignments, which I appreciated. It still didn't make me feel any better though when I was the only one who couldn't grasp her hands around her back and legs together. Or when I couldn't do a handstand. Or when side twists made me hate my fibroid for blocking any comfortable way of moving my lower abdomen or rib cage over my thigh. I could feel tears welling up again. I could feel myself letting myself down...again.
While we went into bridge pose and all 3 of us girls were lined up by the wall, I would look over to my left and then to my right. These other girls were struggling a wee bit, but they got it. They were doing it. The teacher noticed. She also stopped me when I struggled and tried too hard to obtain a pose. Lower back issues be damned.
"You are here for you. Don't compare yourself to someone else. You are right where you need to be. Stop if it doesn't feel comfortable. That's not failure, that's learning about your limits at this moment, not forever. Don't look at anyone else," she said. I took it with a grain of salty sweat dripping down into my eye.
It just hit home. I was reminded again, that while I struggled with a 5.25 mi run on the treadmill this weekend, the same day the Spartan just decides to run an easy 5.4mi in almost half the time. Training for a half marathon again-- the right way-- is really hard. Not to mention it's been 6 years since my last one and my body has some choice words for me. A Thanksgiving 5k has my stomach tied in knots because I fear I'll be finishing with the grannies.
I need to get out of this funk and find what I am thankful for again. Holiday season is a time for me to hide from the world and focus on myself. I don't travel home and due to schedules, my relationship doesn't allow for fun getaways during this time either. Dysfunctional family issues aside, I need to re-wire my brain. I'm just having a hard time being appreciative or thankful lately, and it's not fair to myself or others.
I just laid there in savasana and tried my hardest to let go of it all on Sunday night. I was choking back tears and felt a bit defeated but I did my best. That's all one can ask of themselves on a daily basis. Tomorrow is another chance and a new day, I told myself. And that day is today.
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