~ sigh of relief~
I'd been telling myself that I wouldn't go back to yoga until I could wear at least one pair of my pants. Call it a vanity thing, but I refuse to go buy new yoga clothes for a size that I flat out refuse to stay in. If I spent the money on them, I might just get lazy and complacent in them. Nope. That just can't happen.
I'd been both anticipating and dreading this moment since I first got the go-to to exercise again, 6 weeks postpartum. Anticipating because I've missed my hot yoga class so much- I'd grown addicted to this therapeutic escape from my daily routine- healthier and in better shape than I'd ever been in my life. Dreading because I knew that the past year of sedentary bliss I'd been enjoying had knocked down the level of skill and strength I'd worked so hard to achieve in a fierce way.
I found out I was pregnant with Viv almost exactly a year ago this week. It was in the middle of the last hot yoga class I would go to that I went into headstand and found myself seeing spots and feeling like I was going to pass out. I've gotten to know my body pretty well over the years- and I knew that something just wasn't right. Following my intuition, I stopped off at Walgreens and got a pregnancy test, went home and took it immediately. Sure enough- positive. I immediately felt stunned: disappointed that I had just attended my last hot yoga class for a long time but thrilled at what my future now had in store.
So here we are- one year, 50 lbs. gained and 40 lbs. lost later. I made my return back to Tiffany's on Tuesday (to her new studio- which is beautiful!) both excited and nervous. Her new heating system is killer. Literally- KILLER. I had to get up, leave the room and take a break. WHEW! Hot damn. Momma was about pass the F out. I knew I shouldn't have been embarrassed, but I felt sheepish. I don't like feeling weak.
I can't blame it on the heat though. I must take responsibility for the fact that I am hella out of shape. Even the most simple asanas were challenging. My body seemed to suddenly wake up and shout, "Hey- what the fuck are you doing to us?!"
I'm all janky and stiff and... tired.
This is definitely a lesson for my ego- as I've learned that pregnancy and childbirth serves to be... a lesson in putting ego in check... for me at least. I'm not going to waltz back into an upper level hot yoga class and be Wonder Woman on the mat after willingly and knowingly allowing my strength and flexibility and stamina to deflate like an old birthday balloon. I sorta knew this going in Tuesday- but I was honestly fooling myself. Now I'm pretty damn sure that I'm not Wonderwoman after all.
It's a new era of refreshing challenge for me though- which is something that I crave and constantly seek out: a good challenge. With a second pregnancy and long fought for natural childbirth now under my belt, I can move onto the next challenge: getting back into my old shape- if not better this time (that's the ticket!). Virtually starting over and progressing into the challenging yoga poses and balances that I've lost is a goal that I'm super stoked to work on. I'm counting on nothing but positive growth on the journey to get my breath and stride back.
It's all about growth growth growth!
Jude was sad to see me leave for yoga Tuesday evening. He's gotten so accustomed to having me home ALL THE TIME that he's not too thrilled at the idea of me having any kind of a life away from him. It really is quite flattering to have that little face pressed up against the glass of our front door, crying and wailing for me to come back. Is it totally evil to feel a gigantic rush of relief (and guilt, thank you very much!) wash over me as I'm backing out of the driveway? I forgot how good that 2 hours of "me" time feels when I go to yoga. For 2 hours I didn't think about cooking or cleaning or diapers or making crying/whining stop or entertaining or who needs to be held or who needs to be changed or who needs to eat or who needs a nap or making everyone else in the house happy... I just concentrated on... me. Wow, oh yeah. ME. I forget about her a lot.
And now, as I go to bore my husband into an early night's sleep with a Redbox treat of "The King's Speech," I leave you with pics of the world's next great yogi in action!
Jude was walking around the house today saying, "I want do goga wit mine Mommy." It took me awhile to figure it out, but I asked him, "You want to do YOGA with me?" He got really excited and jumped up and down shouting, "Yeahhh!" Well alright buddy, you got it! I got out my mat and showed him a couple of simple things- and when he saw me do it, he started bouncing around laughing yelling (since everything is communicated through yelling and shouting these days) "Jude try! JUDE TRY!"
We had SO. MUCH. FUN!
I just finished writing an article for the magazine on kid's yoga, so this got me thinking and planning for when I can enroll Jude at age 3- and Viv, further on down the road. I've already started working on some relaxation techniques with Jude while he's in bed, right before last kisses and hugs and good nights, like a little mini/kid version of savasana (corpse pose). It works wonders in calming my Tiny Tornado and I can't wait to get his little bouncy butt into class!
And now, as I go to bore my husband into an early night's sleep with a Redbox treat of "The King's Speech," I leave you with pics of the world's next great yogi in action!
His downward dog. I'm impressed!
Well hi there!
Cobra
Jude's version of Warrior 2
The happiest Warrior on the block!
