Day 98 Function Before Form
In case anyone was wondering, beer and yoga do not mix. Not when we’re talking Bikram Yoga, and I’m on my 98th consecutive day.
Today, the Vancouver Canucks played the San Jose Sharks at noon. By chance, some dear friends of ours were in town and able to watch with us. We had brunch together, and later, as the game went from great to awesome, we switched from coffee to beer. I don’t drink much, and knew it wasn’t the smartest move to add a second diuretic to my system, but what can I say? I like beer, I love my friends, the Canucks were rockin’ and well… I felt a little what-the-hell-ish.
I’ve had several very strong days in a row. I figured if I wimp out at today’s class I’ve earned it.
And I did okay – until the floor series. It’s strange that my energy seems fine for the standing series, which are aerobically more challenging, only to wilt and fizzle once I’m lying down. I wonder why?
My progress in the standing series is coming along nicely, I’m happy to report. Standing-Head-to-Knee doesn’t bother me much anymore. I still can’t hold my legs out for long, and Head hasn’t met Knee yet, but I couldn’t get either leg out straight at all, for a long time. Even the set-up was very challenging. So the progress is significant, if not particularly visible.
And the longer I do this, the less I care about the visible changes. I mean, sure, I’d like to be slender and willowy again like I was in my twenties, but only if I could get there without strenuous dieting. Which I can’t. And I find myself being less critical about my body, as I push the boundaries and discover new abilities. The pain in my hips I moaned about three months ago? Gone.
Slowly but surely, I’m changing my body, lengthening ligaments, tendons and muscles. When I began this, 98 days ago, I figured I’d see a massive overhaul of my physical self in 30 days. Then I got real; obviously it would take 60 before I’d be a super-model. Somewhere after that, I realized my physical self was never going to be on the cover of Yoga Journal, and that the real changes, the important changes, would come from the inside out.
Function before form, substance over style. I’m working on the essence of who and what I am.
Should’a guessed it might take more than 30 days.
Day 93 What’s That Smell??
Hot yoga is hell on the laundry schedule. Every class means one large towel, plus a hand towel, and one entire outfit – top, bottom, underwear, headband. Also I usually have a third towel for the car, so I don’t soak up the upholstery.
On the days my daughters join me it means an instant mountain of drench-n-stench in the laundry room. Of course, I toss it in the washer right away – when I can. But I’m not the only one who does laundry in the house (thank god) so sometimes the machines are in use. Then, the towels have to sit there, emanating their funk. Imagine those cartoon wavy lines of stink rising up into the air, creeping up the stairs, ghostlike, until they’ve infiltrated every room in the house.
Now, I’d like to point out that one of the lesser-known side effects of menopause is an increased sensitivity to odours. Which is fine when you suspect a gas leak. But it seems I’m always asking “What’s that smell?” or “Can’t you smell that?” until people just tell me to shut up. Which makes me doubt myself.
I should know better.
Back to laundry. Since the laundry room also houses the litter boxes (two of them; we’ve also got another set upstairs. Four cats, sigh.) it’s not a happy room for me. To make matters worse, the garbage cans into which the used litter is dumped is just around the corner, in the garage. It’s a trifecta of gag-orific odours congregating in about 25 square feet. The girls are very good about staying on top of the litter boxes, rather than face the wrath of my nose. But still.
So, yesterday I noticed that the mat in front of the stairs just outside the laundry room looked a little murky. I got down on my hands-and-knees, turned it over and picked up the unmistakeable slap of ammonia.
Cat piss. I knew it! I knew I’d been smelling something more than my own mouldering, sweaty yoga duds. The cat in question has a history of such transgressions, but she’s been good lately. Or so we thought. Or maybe it’s one of the others, letting her take the rap.
I got out a bucket of Mr. Clean and channeled my disgust into adiosing every iota of cat urine out of the tile. And the grout. And the wall. And that thing at the bottom of the door that keeps out drafts. And the baseboard.
But it’s like trying to unring a bell. Once cat urine gets in a wall, can you ever really get it out? Even if I succeed, I’ll have the olfactory memory forever. Is it real? Is it my imagination? Does it matter?
So I’m employing a product called Nature’s Miracle Urine Destroyer, Just for Cats. Nature’s Miracle is a staple in our house, and it really does work. But the cat urine variation was news to me.
I’ve soaked the affected area and you know what? It smells better already.
Day 87 & 88 Still Here, Still Me
Yes, yes already, those of you who’ve been virtually nudging me. I’m not dead or on the lam. I forgot, okay? I forgot to blog.
So here I am. Happy?
This might be an appropriate time to check in on the whole 90-Day Challenge thing. My goals, as you might recall, upon embarking on this endeavor, were lofty. Lose a bunch of weight, gain Gumby-like flexibility and a Buddhist-monk sort of serenity. Oh, and I wanted my hot flashes to disappear, too. And my depression/anxiety/chronic identity crises/general mental deterioration to magically lift. Maybe, if I worked really hard, I’d get a complete physical, mental and emotional makeover.
If you’re gonna dream, after all…
But here I am, 90 days later, pretty much the same person I was when I started. Not quite as dramatic as I was hoping. Here are a few more details:
Weight loss: negligible. (However, I’m eating like a horse, so it’s not really a fair assessment) I’m much more toned now, though, so I’m fitting into a smaller size of jeans. Still have the poochie-mommy-tummy but hey, I never expected miracles there. You know. Pie.
Flexibility: definite improvement here. I’ve got more mobility in my shoulders, that persistent knot in my neck is gone, my hamstrings are much looser and my hips don’t hurt anymore. Right now my lower back is sore, but I’ve been at my Iron Gardening again and I suspect that it would be a lot more sore, if it weren’t for the yoga.
Buddhist-monk serenity: um, yeah, about that. If I can still freak out at a sniffer, I’d say serenity is still in the “goal” column, as opposed to the “achieved” column.
Hot flashes: they’ve actually been better lately. Don’t know if it’s the yoga, cutting back on caffeine and alcohol, or the herbal supplements and progesterone cream. But I’m NOT CHANGING ANYTHING, just in case.
General mental disorder: meh, I’m still me, what can I say? The sun is shining now, which makes the whole world a better place. I do think the intense physical activity has had a good effect on my brain, you know, endorphins, serotonin, dopamine, etc. The discipline of sticking with A Hard Thing like this is good, makes me feel like I’ve accomplished something. I am happier now. Is it the yoga? Who can say. But sort of like the hot flashes, I don’t want to stop the yoga, just in case.
And having fallen into this daily chronicling of my yoga challenge has been excellent for my writing-muscles. Again, the discipline of jotting down something more-or-less coherent every day (I know, I KNOW, I missed a day. Can you just let it go??) forces my brain into channels that open up creativity, letting loose little nuggets that might have otherwise have been lost.
Believe it or not, this is fun for me. (Yup. I’m a riot at parties.)
So, I’ll be continuing on with the yoga, and the blogging. Don’t know if it’ll be quite as every-day-ish as it has been, or if it’ll be mostly musing about yoga.
I guess we’ll see. Stay tuned, readers. (And thanks for hanging in there with me – it means more than you know.)