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.

Yogi Musings

This is something that I've been thinking about for a while...and the irony (or hypocracy) of how I live my life, and how I aspire to live my life struck me as I was sitting in the bathtub in a hotel "up the hill" last weekend.

For Babe's birthday, we got a room for a couple nights in a little gambling town and since it was the first time in a while that we were absolutely alone--no kids, no friends, no family..just US we decided to do it up right.  Needless to say, we lost a ton of money, drank a lot of alcohol, ate like shit (but it was delicious!) and didn't workout.

In the midst of my hangover (and you know after a 2-day bender, they suck ass) I decided to let Babe sleep and I figured I'd take a bath.  Since I finished my book the day before, I grabbed the most recent issue of Yoga Journal to flip through while I relaxed in the tub.

Now, I'm not a hard core yoga chick--I love doing yoga, but it's not like I visit a studio or anything--heck I do my yoga in my classroom using this website.  I do, however really enjoy it...I've gotten stronger, I think my posture is better, and it really is relaxing.  What I don't do is really buy into all the "feel the pulse of the universe through the soles of your feet" stuff.  The instructors that teach the classes I enjoy do throw some of the yogi-mystical-eastern stuff into their teaching, but most of the time their advice is sound: listen to your body, don't do anything that makes you hurt or feel uncomfortable, and live in the now.  I think we could all do that...

Anyway, back to the point.  There I was, feeling absolutely crappy, soaking in the tub (which I'm sure used gallons upon gallons of water) reading this magazine which is all about pure, healthy living.  The polar opposite-ness of it all hit me hard.  I would LOVE to detox my body: quit drinking alcohol, quit eating refined sugar, quit eating red meat (or most meat altogether), quit staying up until crazy hours, etc.

But. (There's always as but, right?)

I adore a juicy hamburger.
I love unwinding with a glass or wine or celebrating with my posse with a shot or something.
I treat myself with decadent spoonful or two of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food.
I stay up late with Babe some rights because it's the only time of the day where we get to be alone and have some grown up time.

Am I a bad person because I flat out admit that I enjoy some things that are bad for me and I have neither the willpower nor the desire to eliminate them from my life?  Or, am I doing okay because while I recognize that I have some unhealthy habits, I strive to live my life as healthy as I can?

I dunno...but I'll keep searching.