ormigami yoga yoda

I had to travel to Birmingham twice this week, after work.  Not an easy thing to do when you are tired at the end of a work day.  One trip was to show Maddie's Girl Scout troop a little bit about yoga.  What I know about yoga could fit on the head of a pin.  But I figured 8 and 9 yr old girls couldn't be too tough to stand in front of for 20 minutes.  And I could bluff my way through anything with kids.  I have with the grands many  times, and managed to keep a straight face.

This time my karma held and I was right.  Of course, to earn the fitness badge the Brownies were working on took more than just yoga.  They had done 20 minutes of Zumba before they got to me.  There was a bit of a problem right away though.

Yoga requires a focused mind, deep breathing techniques and the ability to hold a pose.  You can't take 10 little girls and wind them up in a Zumba class and expect they will be able to lay on a mat and do yoga poses after jumping around like grasshoppers.

tree pose

We actually fared well together though.  I told them a little about the history of yoga, then we sat and did some deep breathing.  Then we went through some poses.  They loved the poses.  My mistake was in giving them handouts.  The more daring of the bunch wanted to try something called the birthday candle.  (You raise your back and legs off the mat, and balance your body on
your shoulders and head.  I took one look and told them no way could I do that pose.  Then I showed them a Sun Salutation, and made them do that one twice.  After that I took them through Warrior I and Warrior II, and most of them snickered, thinking I was an old lady and was doing the easy stuff.  Then I put them in a Reverse Warrior pose, and heard the groans I was waiting for.  I smiled secretly to myself then put them through some more poses.  At the end of 20 minutes, they were done.  Like a well cooked roast beef.

And so was I.  I'd been sick the week before and hadn't practiced yoga in days, and could feel it in the quivering muscles in my legs and back.  Right before I collapsed in an ignominious heap on the floor in front of them, I took them through the meditation/relaxation.

Namaste

Try getting 10 little girls to keep their eyes closed and relax, when they are full of energy from all the exercise they have done.  It just isn't possible.  I had them all together for about 3 seconds.  Then eyes started popping open, and heads twisting.  They were afraid they were missing something, so they kept peeking.  The only thing they were missing was me laughing.  No one noticed that.

Namaste.

...life is good. ~cath 

find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

dead man floating

I decided some time ago to add another day of exercise to my two yoga days a week.  The only thing available at the place I take yoga classes was water aerobics.  My friend and I talked ourselves into it, and I started with a burst of confidence that this would be a piece of cake.  After all, if I could survive being twisted like a pretzel in yoga, this had to be easy peasy.

I was wrong.  These classes work me like a bird dog in training.  My legs and arms feel like noodles at the end of an hour.  When I leave the low gravity of the water, my limbs immediately feel like they weigh 40 pounds more.  I have drawn a little illustration (in layman's terms for you non-water-exercising people out there) to demonstrate what I go through.  I left off the tortured look on my face, in case you might consider trying water aerobics.

I don't want to throw cold water on your plans, after all.

Yes, that was a pun.  A bad one, but the best I can do at this ungodly hour of the morning.


Lessons I have learned in water aerobics:
1. No matter how tight you pull the belt on the flotation device, it still ends up under your armpits.
2. Flotation devices make excellent cleavage enhancers.  Better than a Victoria's Secret push up bra.
3. When you leave the pool, gravity reminds you that your cleavage isn't as awesome as you thought it was. The lap swimmer you thought was gawking at your cleavage in the lane next to you is now laughing at you.
4. If you crane your neck, you can keep your hair dry, makeup intact, and bling shining in your ears.  Until that damn flotation device rolls you over on your face.
5. Never wear washable mascara to water aerobics.  Unless you enjoy the raccoon effect.
6. Wear something really loose to change into after class, like a moo moo.  If you don't, it will take you an hour to get dressed, because your arms and legs are noodles.  If you don't believe me, try putting skin tight jeans on a cooked noodle sometime.  Can't be done.
7. The dead man's float is the best move in the world when you wear out.  The flotation device will assist you into this position.
8. By the time you assume the dead man floating position, you won't care where your cleavage is or what it is doing.  Or if that swimmer in the next lane is looking.

Tonight is yoga.  I am asking for extra abs so I can match them to my aching arms and legs.

Holy s#*t I am gonna die.

Namaste.
...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

the path to truth (or why i love yoga)

I have always hated exercise.  Mostly because to me it felt like work.  I could stay focused and do it, with a goal in sight, but then I would inevitably and eventually come to a grinding halt.  I never really enjoyed anything about it.

Until yoga.  I loved it from the first leg-wobbling-like-jello pose that I did in the first class I went to.  I was a total mess at the end of the class, but I felt as though I had accomplished something.  At a speed I could keep up with.  I lost some weight as a by-product of getting some exercise, but I couldn't tell I was getting any more flexible with it.

Last weekend, on Sunday when I snapped these photos of Maddie I had my first "aha!" moment.  In order to get a good angle on a shot like this, you need to be on the same level as the subject.

Maddie is 7 years old.  Which means that even though I am short, Maddie is shorter.  That means if I squat down, I am stuck.  Because I don't have the strength to get back up without pushing myself up with my hands.

Until Sunday.  I squatted down.  And shot multiple photos.  When I got ready to stand back up, I did.

Without using my hands.  Using only the leg muscles I suddenly realized I had all along.  Without feeling one bit of strain doing it.  AHA!

My legs aren't made of jello now.  At least not until the end of each yoga class.  The instructor manages to find muscles I didn't know I had each week, and pummel them (gracefully on her part) into dust.  I am a quivering, sweating mass of gelatinous goo at the end of every class, dragging my sweating self home to collapse.

Then I go back the next time.  Because I enjoy the punishment?

No.  Because I feel stronger every time.  And at my age, exercise is more about strength and stamina than looks.  So I will keep doing the cat-cow pose, the downward dog, and the extended child until I can do them without a hitch, and without my muscles screaming at me to stop.

And because my teacher is so cool, she didn't blink an eye when I screamed "holy shit!" last night after a particularly toe wrenching, butt screaming, leg aching pose.

Namaste.


...life is good. ~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

hafta yoga

This has been a month of firsts for me...I had my first massage...my first skin cancer...and tonight I got to try my first yoga class.

I'm hooked!  I loved it from the first [attempted] pose to the relaxation at the end.  Took a coworker with me...I believe it always pays to share the pain.  As soon as the instructor turned on her little battery operated candles, and turned out the light, I knew this was going to be my type of exercise.

After all, there is nothing better than exercising in the dark, is there?  No one could see my face turning red as I struggled to stretch and pose, or see my muscles quivering in complaint about being stretched like dry rotted rubber bands.  And only I could feel the sweat I knew no one could see, running in rivers down my face.

Of course, that sweat was partially caused by wearing the clothes I had left in my office for the yoga class I was supposed to start last week, when it snowed and we couldn't get there.  I had long sleeves and pants, knowing it would be cold that night.  It was much warmer today...so I was overdressed.  I also found out some other valuable things about yoga tonight:

1. You don't wear running shoes.  You don't run in yoga.  You barely move in fact.
2. It takes longer to put shoes back on sweaty feet than it does to do the whole class.  (My friend applauded when I finally got them on.  I didn't know hand claps could sound that sarcastic.)
3. The fact that your muscles turn to jello after the first exercise you have had in years contributes to the fact it is hard to lift your sweaty leg and shove your sweaty feet into your shoes.
4. Your butt tends to stick to the mat.  When the instructor says slide this way or that on your butt, she is the only one sliding.  The rest of the class is stuck like glue to their mats.
5. Every time you stick your butt in the air and do some kind of dog walk pose, you move farther back on your mat, until your feet end up on bare floor.  It is yoga magic.
6. The music is soothing.  It is nicer to sweat to soothing music than to loud rock and roll.  But it also makes it harder to crack a joke in the middle of class when you are struggling to hike your butt in the air.
7. You can fake it in yoga, and still fit in.  At least half the class is faking at any given time.
8. It is hard to tell what the instructor is doing when you are laying on your back and she is laying on her back, and you see nothing but the ceiling.  This is when faking it comes in handy.  She can't see you either.
9. You should always do the tree pose first, before your muscles turn to jello.  After almost an hour of posing, you have no balance left.  Zero.  Zip.  Nada.  You spend your time with your foot going up and down like you are stomping out a fire.
10. It is easy to fall asleep during the relaxation period at the end.  Sleeping in a room full of strangers is the easy part, and your reward for all the sweat and jello muscles.

The nicest thing said to me was by the lady next to me, who told me I did better than she did, and she had been doing yoga for years.  That was all it took for me...compliments and fake poses...I was sold.

I have found my niche... :D

...life is good.~cath
find me @jonesbabie on Twitter

he said, she said

I started this exercise and diet routine to make myself into a healthier person.  Somewhere along the way, it turned into a competition.  Not only is it a competition, but we have involved Tessie the Terrible Treadmill, who's getting the worst of it.

Every morning, Stevie Wonder climbs on the treadmill, opens the blinds on the window, and kicks the treadmill into a steady speed.  For thirty minutes he gazes out the window, and his brain goes into another dimension.

My routine is a bit more complicated.  I am a fussier athlete.  In order to get on the treadmill I require:

1. girly shoes (with pink accents)
2. music (not just any music, but rock music)
3. new spandex exercise capris with rhinestones on them
4. a timer (I don't want to spend one more second than I have to on Tessie)
5. a sweatband to match my spandex exercise tights (a girl can't have too much bling)

So every morning, while I prepare, Stevie Wonder climbs on, does his thirty minutes in silence, and climbs off a healthier person, basted in his own juices.

Then I get on, scan my music and decide which songs to play in which order.  It makes a big difference, because if I start out with the fastest song (like the one I shared here) I won't last more than 30 seconds.

Next, I adjust the speed on the treadmill to the slowest possible slug-crawling-speed and start.  When I started I lasted 3 minutes.  And that is stretching it.  I wasn't icky sweaty, but I did sport a nice glow.

This morning I climbed on.  I am too bored to just walk, so I kind of dance around on the treadmill, as I gaze out the window.  This morning as I danced gracefully around the treadmill, I decided to kick the speed up a notch. I was feeling great, and thought I was ready for the next level of competition.

As I twirled my hands around and rocked out on the treadmill, I got my left hand caught in the ear bud cord on my iPhone, and accidentally jerked it off and sent it flying off behind me on the treadmill.  I panicked, afraid I had destroyed the iPhone, and turned around to look behind me to make sure it survived the fall.  I forgot I was still moving on the treadmill...but Tessie didn't.  She promptly threw my ass off the back of the treadmill, and I landed on top of my precious iPhone.

I grabbed the iPhone, dusted the bunnies off my butt (they tend to hide under the treadmill), and climbed back on like a determined bull rider.

Ten minutes and two songs later, I climbed off.  OK, so I counted the three minutes it took me to pick myself up off the floor as part of that time.  I figure as long as I was moving, time was clicking.  I was so proud I hollered out my time to Stevie Wonder.

Steve came into the room, climbed on Tessie silently, and did 35 minutes.

I hate him.


~cath
Twitter @jonesbabie

ch[ai]ming in

Before Christmas I made a commitment to have better health. Diet, exercise, and whatever it took to get me to my goal. My goal was not to wear a size 2. The goal was to feel better, be healthier, and have more energy.

But I was lying like a rug. I was seduced by the very foods that put me into slug mode, and I kept backsliding into the abyss I was trying to haul myself out of.

Then ten weeks ago Stevie Wonder started dieting. I was so happy he was concerned about his health and ready to commit to a lifestyle change. I knew all the principles of dieting, so I joined him as his diet buddy.

(Even though I had already failed my sister-in-law as her diet buddy, as well as numerous friends and other family members over the past several years.)

Stevie Wonder is 50 pounds lighter and 2 sizes smaller as of this writing. And somehow I've lost 15 pounds and a size along the way, even though I have not been as stringent and dedicated as SW has.

But I've had some successes along the way.

This is the first holiday season in my life that I have lost weight and not added more on.

I noticed I don't have the joint aches and pains I was having. And I have more energy.

I can think clearly and with better purpose. My brain no longer lives in a carbohydrate induced coma.

But I miss my Starbucks chai. Like the phantom pain from an amputated limb, I can feel it, as if I had a steaming cup sitting solidly in my hand. Until today, I had not had any for two long months. No chai.

Then Stevie Wonder did the unthinkable today and bought me one. I got to the truck with it, and just held it in my hands for a bit, savoring the smell, feeling the heat from the hot liquid seep into the muscles of my fingers and hands, making my hands almost glow with the warmth.

Then finally, that first sip. Oh my, it hit my tongue and my taste buds exploded with remembered ecstasy. It was even better than I remembered. Like a wine connoisseur I could pick out the nuance of each spice, from the peppery start to the cardamom and vanilla-honey finish.

Ahhh. Too soon, it was gone. Drained, the cup sat there staring at me forlornly as though saying "what now"? And I had no answer. It will be many weeks before I indulge again. The memory of that perfect cup of tea will be all I have to cling to, until the day comes when I can indulge once more. Someday.

I'm keeping that cup so I can sniff it like a junkie and dream my Starbucks dreams.

treading lightly

Today I began my trek toward better health in earnest. I have a finite number of years left on this earth, and I really don't want to spend them as an invalid.

This is not just a New Year's resolution, or goal. My aim is to change habits. Habits that have not become so damaging to my health that changing them will have no effect on me.

Every year I have made the same old resolution to lose weight and exercise. And never stuck to it. Because I never made it a habit, just paid lip service.

Today is a new beginning. I started the change in eating habits weeks ago (yes, that's right, and except for a short detour during the holiday, I did pretty darn good).

This morning, after a couple of false starts and some vicious shin splints, I climbed on Tessie the Treadmill. My legs are kind of bitchy about it tonight, but I survived Tessie.

Tomorrow Tessie and I go for round two. I'll let you know who wins.

~cath xo
Twitter me @jonesbabie