Date: 1/17/10
Days Left: 59
Weight: 120.4 lbs
Goal: 110 lbs
Loss: Nada
Mood: Ho Hum
On our walk at Crissy Fields yesterday, Maxine mentioned something about yoga on Sunday. It was eight thirty in the morning, my blackberry vibrated on the kitchen counter. It was a text from Maxine, “yoga?” “yep,” I was brief, “pick me up.” Lazy Sunday, I slummed in my sweats adorned with a glamorous bed head peddling the kids around making sure they polished their breakfast. “What time’s your class?” Shane cleaned off the dining table, “it’s almost nine o’clock.” I stopped, ran, and brushed! My teeth that is. I ignored the honking outside and pulled my hair back in a ponytail. I dashed upstairs hoping that my lemons were accessible in the mountain of clean laundry that settled in the bassinet. Sweet baby Jesus was on my side! I slipped on the yoga pants that specialized in slender, tuck, and lift. I kissed the kids and husband goodbye and dashed out the door.
I usually eat something healthy like a whole wheat toast (90 calories 10 from fat and only 14g of carbohydrates), well that’s what Hugh Jackman ate when he excruciatingly trained for the part of Wolverine in X-men. Not that I wanted a barrel chest or machine guns for biceps or anything, but it seemed logical. Today, I opted for coffee. Oh the liquid stimulant that constricts my blood vessels. There was an upside to this upper, it kicked my metabolism into scared straight program. The seventh day of rest and I was on my way to yoga. Not just any yoga, Iyengar yoga. The strictest of the strict. What was I thinking? I somewhat enjoyed Ashtanga as well as Kripalu. Bikram was disgusting. Mind you I was as limber as a slab of concrete, I jeopardized breaking an appendage. On a downward dog, Shane's ridculously flexible as well as the two kids. Effortless, he does the bridge, the shoulder stand, he can touch his head to knee. I'm one of those brilliantly tight and tense unlimber individual that brings new definition to stiff wad.
A decade ago, I did yoga for a year and a half straight six o'clock in the morning, five days a week. Needless to say my progress was stagnant. For most people, yoga was progression, flat abs, upright buttocks, slick triceps and biceps. For me, it represented patience and inner peace, but if my buttocks was romped to firm or my abs and arms chiseled, well that was just extra credit. Primarily, I just loved the way I felt after a session with mind relaxed, I could take on challenges and obstacles on an even keel. Sure, I would have like to touch my palms flat on the floor and stick my head in my butt, but that would take much practice. Today, my bent mind required some pliability, if only my body would follow suit.
Whoa. Iyengar yoga is constant adjustment. Precision. Alignment bullshit. Tuck your pelvic. Loosen your knees. Move your left butt check to your right. Bring your right hip forward. Press your navel down. Lift your chest. Squish your left artery until it cuts off all blood flow. Do you feel that? Baby Jesus in a swing, there was so much to think about in one pose that I thought my head would burst into flames. The king of all poses for us sloths is Shavasana or the dead pose, laying on your back arms at the side with palms up. Oh, the humanity.
One semester, for the entire semester, I would sneak into the hatha yoga class in college. The class was full and I couldn't wait to sign up for next semester. Screw class credit, I just wanted yoga. I did. One day, the teacher sent me off to a far away land of dream via meditation. Who knew that envisioning myself floating away from San Francisco until it was just a speck of a dot would send me snoozing. Embarassingly, I awoke on my yoga mat to the sound of my classmates heading towards the locker room. The instructor with material and attendance book in hand looked over, “Namaste.”
The disciplined stretching came just in time. My muscles thanked me. My mind thanked me. Rain was on the verge of bursting from the sky when yoga ended. It was unlike Hawaii where you could smell it in the air. In San Francisco, the sky huddled cloudless, but gray. I thanked Maxine for the mental douching as I was clearheaded and focused. I made my vegetable juice blend with the champion spiked it with fresh ginger and whirled it up in a blender with half a cup of lowfat fage yogurt. The vegetable concoction was enjoyable. Hunter asked for thirds. I made a healthy salad of mixed greens, carrots, avocado, onions, topped with one hard boiled egg. I was satisfied after the meal. Stevie Day and I laid in bed for a couple hours of relaxation, allowing my muscles a nice rest after such a hardworking week. There’s nothing like a weekend free of plans and commitment.
The sweet smell of baking bellowed in the air whisking me into a frenzied delight. During my nap, Shane, baked a batch of white chocolate chocolate chip cookies. It was during my first pregnancy that I discovered my love for cookies. Cookies made me weak in the knees. He made the cookies to bring over to dinner at Grundmans. I grabbed a warm cookie cooling on the rack. They just looked too perfect to not be in my stomach, “Oh my god, this is so good.” They were phenomenal. I believed everything in moderation. I was establishing a way of life. A lifestyle. Yummy.
We enjoyed an elk roast at the Grundmans for an early dinner at four o'clock. This after I hassled him through Facebook, basically inviting my family over. Kurt was on some caveman diet so dinner was definitely within my own parameters and some. The paleolithic diet was free of salt, potato, grains, dairy, and sugar. The neanderthal diet focused on nuts, fruit, vegetation, meat, and fish. I didn’t have the heart to tell the guy that cavemen didn’t have access to wonderul chard, asparagus, kale, carrots, broccoli, or almonds. They barely had access to fire. Besides the cave man was too busy ditching T-Rex and other prehistoric predators that preyed on our bobble heads like lollipops. Kurt was training for a marathon in Los Angeles and always finished what he started, alas the extreme, but not so terrible restriction, he made an elk roast with tomatoes in his Green Bay Packers crock pot, grilled asparagus, pumpkin soup garnished with pumpkin seeds and coconut milk, and a wonderful batch of sugar free dark chocolate cookies with oatmeal. Dinner, supplemented generously with salt and pepper, was delicious and successfully early.
This is Shellie “put up or shut up” back to you Bob at the studio!
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