Day 43 Why Women Can’t Sleep
How I wish it wasn’t so… last night at about 2 am, while listening to my beloved gargle on his tonsils, planning my week and making mental lists, I remembered this ditty, passed on to me by my friend Tracy. It’s been making the rounds, so if you’ve already seen it, just humor me, okay? I’m tired.
Have you ever wondered how a woman’s brain works? Well…..it’s finally explained here in one, easy-to-understand illustration:
Everyone of those little blue balls is a thought about something that needs to be done, a decision or a problem that needs to be solved.
A man only has only two balls. They consume all his thoughts, and he sleeps like a baby.
Day 42 Whose Idea Was This, Anyway?
42 days of Bikram yoga. Forty-two. In a row. Day after day. 90 minutes each time. That’s 63 HOURS of yoga. SIXTY-THREE HOURS. (Unless my math is wrong. I calculated it first in my head at 21 hours and then 84 hours, before getting out the calculator. But now we’re just quibbling about details. No matter how you slice the numbers, it’s a freakin’ long time in the hot room.)
And I’m tired again. Is it worth it? Is there any reason not to take a day off, besides the mental challenge? I don’t know. But I’m going to keep going. My stick-to-it-iveness needs a shot in the arm, and if anyone out there in the blogosphere wants to hit that tiny “like” button at the bottom of this post, or drop me a comment, I’d appreciate it.
My goal now is 60. It’s a nice, round number. May it not kill me.
Day 41 Baby Got Back(bone)
From the start, one of the most difficult parts of the Bikram yoga workout for me was the spine-strengthening series. Four exercises done in a prone (stomach-down) position: Cobra, Locust arms-down, Full-Locust and Bow. All involve backward bending, lifting the body up using back strength, lifting the legs up using back strength or (yes it gets better) lifting both body and legs up, using back strength.
These are rough for me. I’m a slumper, a huncher, a natural slouch. Back strength? I have plenty, for lifting and general grunt work. But for standing up straight? Holding my head up and looking people in the eye? Not so much.
“Lift your arms and legs together, like a 747 taking off,” urges the instructor. “Only your hip bones on the ground. Higher! Higher! Eyes on the ceiling!”
I look into the mirror, happy to meet my own eyes. Forget about the ceiling.
“Squeeze your hips, thighs and buttocks! Keep your feet, knees and heels together! Arms up, chest up, chin up.”
Seriously? I’d love to bring my feet, knees and heels together, but my hips, thighs and buttocks are in the way. My arms shake, my chest sinks, my chin quivers.
My 747 is crashing.
Because this one is really hard for me, I know it’s addressing an area of weakness. My spine needs strengthening, literally and metaphorically.
I’ll do it. But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.