Getting All Zen and Shit

Despite my crazy-ass schedule I'm trying to get some regular exercise in.  I find that I'm a much more pleasant bitch to be around if I: A.) don't weigh a schmillion pounds B.) work some stress out.  (Heh...ass schedule.)

I only logged 22 minutes of yoga the other day (89 calories, holla!) and was getting so fucking frustrated because I just couldn't get into it. My mind? Racing. Papers to grade, emails to respond to, grad school stuff to read, grades to enter, my desk is a disaster, I haven't seen my kids in two weeks (I have, but it's neither quanity nor quality), I think I'm fighting something and I feel like crap, and I'm TIRED.

So, I stopped. I was angry about it. Disappointed in myself that I couldn't even get through a 45 minute yoga practice. My self-talk sounded something like, "Why the hell are you so unorganized that you can't get all your shit done in a timely fashion? Why are you SO FUCKING LAZY?" I know, I know, I'm not very nice to myself sometimes.

One of my lovely friends mentioned that every bit of movement, every bit of stretching counts...

It also reminded me of something the lovely and bendy Katherine Budig said in one of her classes that I took via YogaGlo.com: "Be thankful for that fact that you are here today, doing yoga. It doesn't matter that the pose isn't "perfect", it's perfect because that's where your body wants to be, so for today, that is perfection." (I totally paraphrased here, but that's the gist of it.)

So, while my body may be gaining some weight from time to time, and I may limp a bit more, I may not heal as quickly, and I may be too unorganized in my brain to focus long enough to barely hold a decent Adho Mukha Svanasana...let alone a decent Bakasana...the fact that I'm there counts for something.

It's something I really should be thankful for, every, single, damn day. So nana-nana-boo-boo to you, stupid self.

Ouch.

Had a soccer game tonight, so I thought I'd do about 30 minutes of yoga today to loosen up and recharge after today.  At the very end, I'm doing "happy baby" (no, I'm not describing it...JFGI) I feel a slight twinge in my left groin. 

Nothing major--until I hit the field tonight. OMFSM, I made one run and thought, "Hmm, I must have tweaked it a bit more than I thought!"  But, I played, we won (no thanks to me) and I hobbled to my car and drove home. 

Now, that I've been sitting for a couple hours, I can barely stand up. 

Getting old suuuuuuuuuuuuuucks.