Just give me a minute...

I need to get some things out...

I love yoga... once I get to the studio... It is really difficult to get there some days -- especially, for me, during the winter. I just want to eat, drink coffee, and hibernate. I bet I've gained 12-15 lbs. since Thanksgiving. As a result...

I feel like a failure a lot these days. Seems like I'm just "treading water" in the room. In some respects, I have regressed -- I couldn't tell you the last time I was able to grab my heels in Hands-to-Feet pose -- mostly because I cannot suck enough of my stomach in. I feel really tense, and extremely inflexible.

It seems like I'm in a fog most of the time. Perhaps it would be better to say I feel like I'm underwater. Every so often, when I can break the surface and take a breath, I can clearly see the things I need to do to better myself -- I can see the path. Then, I sink back down into the everyday, mindless, numbing daily routine. Before I know it, days have passed before I realize I'm right where I was because it is the next time I "break the surface" and realize I haven't done anything -- again. Did that make any sense at all ?

I am thankful for work-study. Twice a week, I get to spend an extra hour in the room while I clean it. More sweat. It's quiet. I can think. It's peaceful. Best two hours of my week sometimes.

I still have horrible eating habits. In some ways it has improved, but not today. Lunch (coffee for  breakfast) was leftover fajitas with way too much rice and tons of chips with almost a pint of hot sauce (all this while watching "Hungry For Change" for the umpteenth time on Netflix). I ate until I couldn't eat anymore, then I ate more, as if I might not eat for a week. When I go to the store, I grab a cookie or two for the drive home. Sometimes I stop at McD's on the way home. I have taken to buying donuts every morning at work... after stopping at another McD's for breakfast and coffee. Food has fully replaced nicotine for me (but at least it is now 11 months since I had a smoke!).

Sometimes, I just want to give up. Quit. Pack it in. Nice try, but you fell short. Get fat and die early like my mom. Smoke my way to pneumonia, cancer, and respiratory failure like some of my relatives. Be diabetic and lose limbs like so many people I've seen.

No.

No.

NO!!!

I can't do that. 

Long way to go.

Just take another step.

One more breath.

One more posture.

One more breath.

One more posture.

#gotoyoga

#just breathe

Peace.

  

Giving Thanks

It is Thanksgiving Day. A time for family, food, and football.
Here it has been a beautiful, sunny day. Nice and cool.

So, before the turkey knocks me out, a few things I am thankful for:

A job and a home.

Family and friends -- extra special at this time of year. Tomorrow will be the sixth anniversary of my Mom's passing. The holidays will always be a bit darker but time heals.

For all of those who serve the nation, especially those of my friends in the Armed Forces, Thank You!! May you soon be home with your loved ones!!!

While I couldn't make the single class today, I am thankful that, after two weeks of a cold, a respiratory infection, and an asthma attack, I made class the last three nights, and they were great!!

My yoga practice in general: the fact that once again I can practice regularly, the friendships renewed, the new friendships formed, the knowledge that, slowly but surely, I am building a better version of me. I cannot begin to describe what being back in that room means to me.

Quitting smoking: Over ten months now and I have no cravings whatsoever. In fact, the smell of a cigarette is repellent to me!!

Last but certainly not least: YOU!!!  If you read this, Thank You! If you are a Twitter friend, Thank You! If you are a long distance yoga buddy, Thank You! Your energy and support are appreciated!

Hoping the holiday weekend is full of joy... and a yoga class or two...

Much love to all!!!

Quitter

I am a quitter.

Yes, I am.

I have quit a lot of times in my life. Some for the better, some for the worse.

I have quit smoking -- several times (I think this time it has taken hold for good -- fingers crossed).

I have quit drinking (not because of an abuse issue -- I simply have no more tolerance for it. One drink and the room is spinning.)

I quit college. Couldn't balance going to class and working 40 hours or more each week. 

I quit dating for a decade or so. I had better things to do than be continuously turned down or dumped.

I quit trying to advance at work. Actually I never really tried to advance. Just too much stress -- and the fact that I make as much or more when paid hourly as opposed to being on salary. 

I quit being lazy and start exercising more. Then I quit exercising because I'm tired and/or lazy. I quit junk food and start eating healthier, then I quit eating healthy because the junk is less expensive (or free in the break room fridge since the deli sends their day old subs and salads and sweets back for us).

You get the point. No matter what I am doing or attempting, I quit what I'm doing, and do the opposite, either because the effort is seemingly too much to give or because the expense is too great. 

Over and over and over again. The cycle spins ever onward. There seems to be no way to stop it. 

Yoga is one of the few things I haven't quit. That said, I am a quitter in the hot room as well. I fall out of poses and quit trying. I don't even attempt some poses. At the first twitch or pull or ache, I quit. When I know I have it in me to do the next pose, I quit and lay down -- or just leave the room. 

I quit quite a lot these days. I have regressed in many of the poses, so much so that I spend a lot of time staring down at my toes because I can't stand to see myself in the mirror.  Sometimes I wonder why I'm there at all. It would be simpler to stop practicing. It would be easier just to while away my spare time watching TV or surfing the net. It would be easier to get fat (fatter) and not give a damn. 

Yet, there I am, unrolling my mat, trying to stretch, and  standing up with the sound of the gong to begin class. Day after day. Evening after evening. 

Yoga is the place where I am trying to learn how not to quit. 

So far, so good. 

Peace. 

  

Hello, again!

Nice to be back. It was a long, stressful summer.

In addition to the long, hot days and ceaseless stress at work, I found myself taking Sweetie to ER twice. She is doing much better now, back to her normal, wonderful self. Turns out she developed an allergy to wheat/gluten. We are now much more cognizant of what we buy and eat. We are reading up on the subject, and have gone through lots of gluten free products in an attempt to find things that a) are tasty, and b) don't upset her system. Lots of trial and error, and less than appetizing items. We are having to rethink our way through grocery stores and restaurants. If anyone has ideas, books, or products to try, please leave a comment below.

Of course, there was little chance to practice yoga. However, over the last few weeks, we have talked about returning. Sweetie knows that one of the things I would love to do is learn to teach. She is fully on board with the idea. This means that I need to resurrect my practice. Therefore, I am going to take a Bikram class tomorrow for the first time in almost exactly two years.

I'm mortified.

I'm in almost the same shape as I was when I took my first Bikram class in 2009. Overweight. Smoking (yes, again). Weak in body and mind.

This time, at least, I know what I'm in for. The heat. The sweat. The discomfort.

I guess the thing I'm afraid of most is that I won't find whatever it was that kept me going to yoga in the first place. That I will go, have a horrible class and decide, "Well it was fun but I'm not up for this anymore.Two years of inactivity is just too much to overcome. I want a pizza. And a cigarette."

That scares me. It means that I'm weak. It means that I would prefer to continue to do the things that destroy my body rather than begin the process of healing it again.

I tried to get acclimated today by going to a different studio. Karmany Yoga has been hailed as one of the best in the area, so I gave it a shot. It was not good.

Lovely venue. Instructor (Eric) was very nice. Four other students, all female. One hour class.

I was miserable. It was warm but I didn't break a sweat until halfway through. Strange postures. Inversions. Using the wall for some postures. Using blocks and rolled up mats that you put between your legs or put on the floor under your belly. I spent a lot of those postures either standing around or in Child's Pose. Near the end, we did Cobra and a variation of Locust. Those went well, as did the Warrior/Triangle poses -- but the Triangle we did was a faint version of Bikram's. Overall, I was not impressed. I am not used to using props, and I don't think you need them. Some of the moves were just painful because (in my opinion) we were not warmed up properly.

I just hope tomorrow doesn't go down like that. I know it will be one of the toughest classes I've ever attempted. I just want to once again discover what drew me to yoga in the first place.

Time to continue hydrating. Class is tomorrow at mid-morning.

Wish me luck!


 

Acceptance

This one will be short. No practice yet. Too many things going on. Seems as though neither Sweetie nor I will ever get back into practice. Not going to bore you with details, but I am proud to say that I haven't felt this good since leaving the hospital. It has been 99 days since I have had a cigarette, but if offered one right now, I can't swear I would refuse.

Anyhow, I do continue to read the blogs listed at right. In one of them, Bikram Butterflies , Kerry writes of her struggles and how it has helped her learn acceptance. Perhaps that is my issue. I've talked and talked ad nauseam about how badly I want to return to the hot room, to work on me again, to get back to where I was. Maybe I need to just be quiet and accept things for what they are and trust that the worm will turn eventually and my practice -- our practice -- will resume.

Problem: In my mind, I equate accepting with settling or giving up or setting aside.

Am I wrong?

If I stop trying and working and planning to achieve a goal, if I accept that I cannot return to practice, I'm giving up, right? That is the last thing I want to do.

I really don't know what else to say. I learned to love yoga. I miss it. I miss writing about it.

Perhaps I need to learn acceptance.

Peace.

 

And then it all went horribly wrong...

Hello again! I've not been able to make any yoga classes since last time. Instead, I learned for the first time just how my body has been affected by the way I have treated it.

It started innocently enough. Almost two weeks ago, I woke up about 2 AM with a sneezing fit and draining sinuses. It subsided shortly thereafter and I went back to sleep. A few hours later, at work, I started to feel a tickle in my throat along with a dry cough. My boss had suffered from something similar and said I might need to get it checked. I went to the clinic (not having a primary physician) and they diagnosed Bronchitis, gave me meds (antibiotic and steroids), and sent me home. The next day I felt OK until dinnertime, when my breathing became more labored, with a distinct wheeze. Back to the clinic, where they said I had strep throat, gave me a stronger antibiotic, a steroid shot, and a breathing treatment, and sent me home.

Then came the third day.

I had the day off, and I pretty much stayed in bed all day. I wasn't feeling horrible, but I wasn't feeling better. I went to pick up Sweetie from work, but I stayed in the car while waiting for her because I felt weak. When we got home, I sat down on the couch and tried to catch my breath. No good. Hit my rescue inhaler. Nada. Hit the inhaler again. This isn't working. I start to panic. I get Sweetie and she sees my discomfort. She is asking me what to do but I have difficulty answering. I dropped to my knees, trying to rally and just get one  deep breath. My panic worsens and I feel myself sweating uncontrollably. I manage to tell her, "You better call an ambulance." She does and I am still on my knees trying to calm myself down.

It seemed like forever for the medics to arrive. When they did, they checked my oxygen saturation level. It was 85 (should be 97 or better). They gave me a treatment but it didn't help. Things got worse when they helped me onto the stretcher. I felt like I was suffocating and went into a full-blown panic. I even got out of the stretcher for a second so I could try and catch my breath. I laid back down and then everything went dark for a bit. The next thing I knew, I was still in the ambulance and I had a full mask on and oxygen was being forced into my lungs. I don't remember the IV stick being put in my left hand, but I do remember someone asking me to open my mouth and keep something under my tongue without swallowing ( I later found out it was not one but two tablets of nitro-glycerin ). Next thing I knew, I was in ER and hooked up to another machine that helped me breathe. There was another IV rig in my other hand. I remember talking to the ER doctor, x-rays being taken, and lots of blood drawn. As I became more aware of my surroundings, Sweetie arrived and sat beside me ( stayed beside me every step of the way ). In the next treatment area, I could hear people working on a man who had apparently suffered a stroke.

I hadn't been a patient in a hospital since I was born -- in the very hospital I was in now. To say I was scared would be an understatement, to say the least. I was terrified. After a couple of hours I was calmer and the breathing machine was discontinued, but I remained on oxygen. The tests slowly came back. The doctor came back with good news: the blood tests were all coming back good. The X-ray showed no pneumonia but quite a lot of chest congestion -- I was diagnosed as having acute bronchitis brought on by COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disorder -- a direct function of my smoking habit). I was told that I would be admitted for a day or two with lots of breathing treatments, antibiotics, and more steroids.

I thought, "OK, not so bad. Could have been worse."

Then the doctor said, "There is more." I went cold.

"We did find damage in the bottom lobes of your lungs from your smoking. This makes your heart have to work harder to oxygenate your cells, and there is some weakness in the right side of your heart." I went colder and looked over to Sweetie, who was shaken as well.

"Now the good news is this: IF you stop smoking NOW, within two years you can still undo most of this damage. Your lungs will be almost as good as any non-smoker. But, you must stop now."

Understand, I have always known the risks. However, I always felt like such things wouldn't really happen to me. I would know when I needed to quit. I mean, I've never had to go to the hospital for anything. I could always just stop and things would take care of themselves.

Now, I understand. As I lay in bed that first night, unable to sleep, it finally sank in: I'm 45 years old. I'm not bulletproof. I simply cannot continue to hurt my body like this. I have no choice but to choose a healthier way of life. If not, I won't be here. At all. I've got things I want to do, to accomplish, to be a part of. Hard to do if I am an invalid. Or dead.

It was the longest 40 hours of my life. Sweetie was an absolute gem throughout. My boss was kind enough to grant me vacation time so we didn't have to worry about losing income. Of course, we will have to see just how much this little escapade has cost, once the hospital and insurance company have settled. Cost doesn't matter -- this episode has already changed two lives. Not only mine (obviously), but Sweetie's son -- he witnessed that crazy night and has said he would quit smoking as well. I took my ID bracelet from the hospital and put it in my wallet in front of my license so it is always in sight. That way, if I feel like buying a pack of smokes, that reminder will be right there for me. I don't think that will be a problem though. All I have to do is look at my phone and this picture:

I have no desire to return to that bed. Ever.



Peace.

The Dark Side is winning...

About a year and a half ago, I wrote the following post. It is written from the point of view of the "Dark Side" of my brain, telling me to give up this "yoga thing"...

                       ******************************************

Hey.

Hey, Mark.

It's me... you know, the guy you were before you started this insanity.

The guy who loved nothing better than pounding cheeseburgers and pizza, and washing them down with liters and liters of Dr. Pepper or Coke. The guy who would inhale potato chips or cheese curls while sitting for hours in front of your gaming console, stopping only to go out and enjoy a fine cigarette. Or two.

You do remember me, don't you? The guy who would toss back a couple of beers (or more), plus a couple of shots (or more)? The guy who thought that runners were weird (I mean, really, you run and run and run, and you're not really going anywhere, you're just tiring yourself out). The guy who never understood how someone could work out in a gym for two hours, or swim three miles, or hit a silly punching bag. 

And God forbid you try anything like yoga. Those yoga people are true freaks -- tree-hugging, soy-eating, tattooed freaks who bend their bodies in unfathomable ways. Just looking at them made you feel uncomfortable!

So, what happened, buddy? Where have you gone? Off the deep end?

Ok, I can understand. It was new, it was different. It has also been a pain in the ass!! I mean, those classes are really hard! It's so friggin' hot in there!! Not only that, you did something called a challenge: 52 classes in 60 days! I thought that was ridiculous in itself, but then you did it AGAIN!! Insane!! I was so glad when you had to stop going for that six months -- I thought sanity had prevailed. Imagine my horror, then, when the studio called looking for work-study people. You never gave me a chance to put in my two cents, you just hauled off and went right on back without any chance for me to shout you down. So, once again, I am put through this hell two, three, sometimes five times in a week!!

And for what?

You make me drink so much water or Gatorade -- I want a soda!

You make me eat vegetables and, God forbid, fruit! At least you don't eat a lot of that yet.

You drag me into that oven, bend me, stretch me, and make me sweat and sweat and sweat.

You force me to breathe that hot, humid, nasty air.

WHY???

It doesn't have to be this way. Let's be reasonable about this.

You don't really have to do this anymore.

I know you lost 45 pounds, and you are a bit more flexible and all that.

I don't care.

Let's go back to the way it used to be. No more of this foolishness. 

No more spending all day trying to get three or four liters of water down your throat.

No more eating better.

No more sacrificing two hours of your day for this madness.

Let's go get that ice cold Coke. And a couple of burgers.

Let's not worry about how you will fit in three classes this week. Let's watch TV or play games.

You can do it. I know you can. I've been watching.

I've seen you give in from time to time. Fast-food breakfast here. Candy bar there.

And yes, I've seen you have a smoke from time to time. It's once a week, for now, isn't it?

I've watched you crumble in that room, too. Laying out for long stretches of class, or leaving the room altogether -- what's wrong Mark? Can't take it anymore, buddy? I notice that once the postures start, you're having a really hard time looking in the mirror at your own two eyes, or your knee, or anything else. You stare at the floor (or the ceiling when you're on your back, which is happening more and more often). Your muscles scream and your body feels limp (that's my doing -- it seems to be the only way I can get your attention).  You have trouble hearing the instructor because I am there, whispering to you, "It doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to do this to us.... Let's quit."

So, come on! Let's get that pack of smokes, a giant pizza, and a 12-pack of soda. Let's fire up the Playstation, or watch the ballgame. Let's not have anymore of this lunacy.

No one needs to know.

It will be our little secret.....

Take your time. I'll be here.

 

                     ********************************************************************************

 

He is winning.

As much as I think about yoga, I have not been able to get back in on a regular basis. 

Part of me is happy -- the part that cannot stop eating junk and smoking. I have gained back nearly half of the weight I lost.

Part of me longs for that hot room -- so I can try to heal myself.

 

On Sunday, there is a community class at Sumits -- $5 for anyone who wants to come in.

 

I must get myself there. 

 

 

"The moment you're ready to quit is usually the moment right before the miracle happens."

-- Unknown

 

 

So, it MUST be right around the corner, right?

 

Namaste.

 

   

 

Undone.

Ok.

I give up.

I know when I’m beaten.

I get it, already.

No Bikram since November.

One solitary Baptiste class since then.

Every time I think that I’ll be able to resume my practice, SOMETHING happens.

I can’t get all my ducks in a row.

I can’t get all the lights to turn green.

I have almost completely returned to the person I was before discovering yoga in general, and Bikram in particular.

I’m smoking. Half a pack some days. I went five months and one day without. Then, I picked them back up without batting an eye.

I eat junk. Burgers, doughnuts, chips, junk upon junk upon crap. While I’m not yet back to 285 lbs, I’m definitely getting closer. And closer.

I’m not drinking too much soda (yet), but I mainline coffee… with lots of French Vanilla creamer.

Sleep brings no rest, no dreams, no energy. The ringing alarm clock is both blessing and curse.

I find it difficult to concentrate on anything. I try to read an article or a book. I try to write. I used to think I really had something to give or share. Now, I just don’t know.

I kept telling myself that if I could just hang on, or if I just worked a little harder or longer, things would get better. I would find a way back to that place. I would walk back into that chamber and sweat and pull and stretch and BREATHE. I would feel alive and healthy again. I would work toward that goal of being the best possible me I could be.

Now?

I’m irritable. Upset. Angry. Everything is suffering: my body, my work, my relationships, my being. It’s as if I had never heard of yoga. There just doesn’t seem to be a way to get back in the room from here. For now, there are just too many obstacles to hurdle.

I was never really a yogi in training, was I? I was  just a “wannabe” yogi.

I walked into work the other day, realized the futility of it all, and began to cry. Not sniffle. Not weep. I cried. (Fortunately, since I get there earlier than most, no one saw me.)

It was just a passing fancy, this idea of me practicing yoga. A summer romance.  A one act play.

I had hopes for this week. I might, at least, get an introductory 10-class card at Indigo. It will not happen – save for a miracle of some sort. I tried to practice here at home, but it was laughable (plus I just can’t get a room that warm without causing a problem). I can’t see getting back to Bikram anytime soon either. I was always hopeful that this hiatus would be short and painless. Now, I don’t know when, if ever, I’ll get back.  To be honest, I'm beginning to think it will not happen.

Yoga still fascinates – and scares – me. I still read lots of blogs. I still believe in the power and beauty of yoga. My dream of going to training is still on my bucket list. I see and read about people who are changing their lives with the help of yoga -- and I want desperately to change mine.  I am was a (small) part of an ever growing online community of yogis trying to grow and share and make this planet just a little bit better.

I’m frustrated.

I’m tired.

I’m sick of writing about NOT practicing. 

I'm sick of being who I am.

I'm sick of having empty hopes for change.

I’ve come undone.

" Every year is getting shorter never seem to find the time.
Plans that either come to naught or half a page of scribbled lines
Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way
The time is gone, the song is over,
Thought I'd something more to say."

                                                 "Time" by Pink Floyd from Dark Side of the Moon

                                    

Peace.

The Baptiste Experiment

Last week, while on vacation, I wanted to try some different types of yoga. With four different studios within 10 minutes of home, there was ample opportunity to try something new.

Or so I thought.

Let’s just say that what was supposed to be a calm, relaxing week turned into a hectic stretch of days. It wasn’t until Friday that I could even consider going to a class. Even then, at noon last Friday, I wasn’t sure I would go even if the chance arose.

It was then that I told myself, “You will not get a better chance. Don’t be afraid. Find a class. Go. Now.”

I’ve driven by Indigo Yoga countless times in the six years it has been open. It’s three minutes away from our current home, and is a “Baptiste Affiliate Studio.” – meaning they teach the style of yoga founded by Walt Baptiste in the 1940’s and carried on today by his son Baron. All I really knew about it was: a) it is practiced in a warm room (though not nearly as warm as the Torture Chamber), and b) it involves postures I’ve never attempted.

Lucky me!! An “all levels” class would start in one hour. Thankfully, I had been much better about hydrating all week – just in case I could actually attempt a class. I grabbed my mat, towel, and water and headed for the door when that voice in my brain stopped me:

“Yoga? Really? After all this time, you want to go try more yoga? I thought we had this all straightened out. You realize you will look really stupid. You won’t be able to do much of it anyway. Look at you. You’re weak and flabby and you will be so self-conscious in there. You don’t really need to do this… Stay home. “

I have wanted to get back into a yoga room – ANY room – for too long. I pushed the fear and worry aside, jumped in the car, and went to the class.

The “lobby” at Indigo is very small – more of an anteroom than a lobby. The lighting was subdued and incense filled the air. I signed the necessary form, paid, and headed into the room. The room itself was large – even larger than my home Bikram studio. I could easily see 70- 80 people fitting in there. Pastel shades of blue on the walls, ceiling painted black, black ceiling fans hanging down, music softly playing – very relaxing indeed. Curiously, one side of the room had the fans on, the other did not. I took up a spot on the back row near the center (where there were no fans) and laid down in Savasana, just grateful to be in a warm, if not hot, room. There were around a dozen students, including two other men. The instructor, Kelsey, entered and got us up and began the class.

Wow.

There was no Pranayama breathing to start. She just called everyone to Child’s pose and off we went. No stopping, No breaks between postures. No “party time”. It was, “Upward Dog”, then, “Down Dog”, then “High Plank, Low plank…” and on and on. I don’t mind saying I got lost pretty quickly. I hate to look around at other students but I had no choice because I didn’t know what was going on. My mind returned to that April night in 2009 when I took my first Bikram class – all flustered and bewildered and flushed with the heat. Thankfully, I started to catch on a bit and I really started to enjoy it. I got a good sweat going almost immediately. I did have to stop more than once because either I did not know what the posture was, or I was just beat.

Other thoughts?

1) My Breathe mat was completely inappropriate for the hard wood floor. Off I go to get a sticky mat. Thankfully, Kelsey grabbed one of the studio mats and set it up next to mine so I could work without slipping all over the place.

2) Not used to the instructor walking around during class so much. I was startled when she got behind me and lifted my hips up during the first Downward Dog. 

3) For this particular class, Kelsey returned to Utkatasana (Chair Pose) over and over. My legs quaked so badly. We must have done that pose four or five times. Then there was an addition to the pose where we would turn to one side or the other.

4) Instead of Trikanasana (Triangle), we did Warrior Poses 1,2, & 3. There were extra movements, which made it even more difficult.

5) Frog pose hurt. I didn’t even attempt a headstand or Crow pose. I heard the term “Chaturanga” a lot. Happily though, I surprised myself with a damn good Camel posture!!

6) I did enjoy the cool washcloth the instructor placed on my forehead in the lone Savasana.

7) “Wild Thing” looked ridiculously difficult.

8) I was really sore the next morning. REALLY SORE. And that is good!!

All in all, it was a heck of a ride. A lot of it is still a blur in my head. However, I do know one thing: I want to do that again!! Fortunately, they run an introductory special: 10 classes for $30. I’m signing up ASAP!! They also have a free class for the community every Saturday. Too bad I work most Saturdays.

Unfortunately, that was my only class of the week. I was going to take advantage of the $5 community class at Sumits on Sunday, but that was cancelled for a teaching workshop. Maybe next week. (Their intro special is similar: two weeks for $20 – don’t think I won’t try that one!!)

One other note: before I went on vacation I broke down and had a cigarette, five months and one day after my last one, then had another one four days later. The streak now stands at nine days. :(

Apologies if this post droned on, but I’m just really happy to be actually writing about my practice again! Thanks for listening.

Namaste.

Unhappy Bikram Birthday

Tomorrow, April 13, will be my third Bikram Birthday. It was on April 13, 2009 that I ventured into the Torture Chamber for the first time. Sometimes, it seems like only yesterday. Now, it seems like centuries ago.

I still remember it well:

Walking into the room and getting slapped in the face punched in the mouth by the heat.

Laying down on the mat and silently praying that I wouldn't throw up.

Being so ashamed of my body that I wouldn't take off my shirt.

Learning that my heavy cotton shorts became ten times heavier when soaked in sweat.

Not being able to even reach my heels in Hands-to-Feet pose.

"OK, how the hell am I supposed to reach down and grab my foot?"

"Does it HAVE to be so friggin' hot??!!!???"

"Slow down... only so much water in that bottle."

"Fuck it, I'm SOOOOOOOO thirsty."

"How do you lock a knee?"

"If I try Triangle, they will have to carry me out of here."

 "If I stay 15 more seconds, they will have to carry me out of here."

"I really like Savasana!!!"

"No, wait, just one more minute of Savasana.... please????"

"I'm bringing a gallon of water (and maybe a 10 lb. bag of ice!)  next time... assuming there is a next time."

"Lift BOTH legs? I can't lift one!!!"

(Just before Half-Tortoise):  "Check, please!!" This is where I got up and left the room.

Well, from that inauspicious start blossomed what was, for a while, a pretty good practice. One challenge morphed into back-to-back challenges, and in six months I lost 45 lbs, lost five inches from my waist, and felt absolutely wonderful. From then on, it's gone downhill -- to the point now that I still haven't taken a class since November. A number of factors have contributed to this, most seemingly beyond my control.

I still look forward to resuming my practice. I think about it every day. Unfortunately, it doesn't look as though it will resume anytime soon. Nothing seems to work out like we wanted, and there seems to be at least two new stresses every day. Even quitting smoking (96 days now) has its problems: my lungs are seemingly always congested these days... a combination of spring allergies, humid weather, and lungs trying to detox make it hard to breathe some days... even with my inhaler. A good dose of Pranayama in a hot room would really help. Today has been really difficult. On the good side, I no longer crave tobacco... in fact, the smell of a cigarette now makes me slightly queasy.

One of my favorite teachers, Greg, always said that part of doing Bikram  was not only that I would feel so much better, but I would realize just how bad I felt before I began my practice.

I understand now, my friend. Oh, boy, do I understand.

Namaste.





 

It's not all bad...

It has been an up and down couple of weeks.

The big Grand Opening for Bikram Fort Worth is this weekend. I will miss the festivities (not just because I'm not yet a member; I have to work anyway). Demonstrations, posture clinics, instructors from other studios, EVERYTHING I want to be a part of. I try not to think about it. I get depressed.

I will get back there.

The home studio idea is also on hold. Unexpected auto repair = $$$. Have yet to get a mirror for the spare room. It may be a bit. I bite my lip, take a breath and try to keep calm. I want to scream. I want to throw something. I want to gaze toward the heavens and ask, "Why?". Even now, I'm starting to shake. I never, EVER thought I would feel this way about yoga, let alone something like Bikram Yoga. I am still open to trying other types of yoga (the Sumits Yoga down the street has yet to open -- I will check it out; I've had no time to visit Karmany Yoga yet). However, I truly believe that I will end up sticking with Bikram.

I will get my practice restarted. I will learn about other forms of yoga.

When I am able to get the Bikram CD, I am also going to buy two three books:

Bikram Yoga -- the orange book

The Art of Happiness: A Handbook for Living -- by The Dalai Lama

The Yoga Sutras of Patanjali: The Book of the Spiritual Man -- by Charles Johnston

I want to better myself. I will tear myself down to the foundations if need be. My current self is no longer palatable or viable. I have much to learn. My happiness is not dependent on others. I must do it myself. I deserve this. 

It will get better.  

If I put in the effort, the results will come.


I want this. I need this.


"Begin, please."

Oh yeah, the title of this post? 

Well, I am proud to report that I have made it to 30 days since my last cigarette!! I need my inhaler less and less now. It feels good. No, it feels GREAT!!

Step by step.....


Namaste.

struggling

Only three classes since my last post. They have been so-so. Tuesday's class actually started out great... felt really strong at first... actually completed both sets of Triangle! Then the truck hit me in Tree Pose. Made it through but it was really hard. Had to be close to 120 in the room at one point despite the fact that our instructor cracked the doors open three different times. It has been so freaking hot here -- everyday 100 degrees or more outside.

So, how have I been handling my lack of yoga? Not well. Cigarettes have once again been my friend. I've been eating horribly -- junk food and fast food and eating at odd hours and eating when I'm not hungry and never enough water. I'm sore and tired and all I want to do is sleep.

Put succinctly, I'm struggling.

I'm going to class tonight, but only because I was asked to take another work-study shift tonight. Usually, I look forward to going. Now, however, I find that I am fighting the inertia from not going as much as I would like. I'm going tonight, and I hope to squeeze in a class tomorrow. Then, thankfully, I am on vacation for a week. I hope that it will be a time of rest and recommitting to my practice.

My yoga goal for next week: 7 days, 9 classes -- meaning two doubles.

My other goals for next week: no smoking, no junk food. Fruits and veggies and lots of water and juice -- no coffee.

I plan to go get my blood pressure and weight measured on Saturday, then on the following Saturday.

I am also looking into going to an acupuncture clinic next week... I'll let you know more if that comes to pass.

I am tired, bloated (OK, fat), and I'm not very happy with myself... after nearly two years of practice, I should be so much farther down the road than I am.

I read blogs from other practitioners and I am in awe of their accomplishments... especially those who have just begun their journeys as Bikram instructors. Well done to all of you! Through them I see how lives can be changed with a lot of work and sweat... and a few tears. I do not know if I will ever be a teacher, but I do understand that I am the only one who can transform myself into a better person. No one can do it for me. The only way to get started (or re-started) is to get off my ass and take a step forward.

Begin, please.

Inhale....


63

UPDATE: With three hours before class, the temperature is currently 104!!! It will definitely be a very warm chamber tonight!! Also, came across a website with nothing but Bikram Yoga videos -- posture tutorials, news videos, and more. Click on the "Bikram Yoga Videos" link on the right side of the page. Sweet!!

And now, a word from the dark side....

Hey.

Hey, Mark.

It's me... you know, the guy you were before you started this insanity.

The guy who loved nothing better than pounding cheeseburgers and pizza, and washing them down with liters and liters of Dr. Pepper or Coke. The guy who would inhale potato chips or cheese curls while sitting for hours in front of your gaming console, stopping only to go out and enjoy a fine cigarette. Or two.

You do remember me, don't you? The guy who would toss back a couple of beers (or more), plus a couple of shots (or more)? The guy who thought that runners were weird (I mean, really, you run and run and run, and you're not really going anywhere, you're just tiring yourself out). The guy who never understood how someone could work out in a gym for two hours, or swim three miles, or hit a silly punching bag. 

And God forbid you try anything like yoga. Those yoga people are true freaks -- tree-hugging, soy-eating, tattooed freaks who bend their bodies in unfathomable ways. Just looking at them made you feel uncomfortable!

So, what happened, buddy? Where have you gone? Off the deep end?

Ok, I can understand. It was new, it was different. It has also been a pain in the ass!! I mean, those classes are really hard! It's so friggin' hot in there!! Not only that, you did something called a challenge: 52 classes in 60 days! I thought that was ridiculous in itself, but then you did it AGAIN!! Insane!! I was so glad when you had to stop going for that six months -- I thought sanity had prevailed. Imagine my horror, then, when the studio called looking for work-study people. You never gave me a chance to put in my two cents, you just hauled off and went right on back without any chance for me to shout you down. So, once again, I am put through this hell two, three, sometimes five times in a week!!

And for what?

You make me drink so much water or Gatorade -- I want a soda!

You make me eat vegetables and, God forbid, fruit! At least you don't eat a lot of that yet.

You drag me into that oven, bend me, stretch me, and make me sweat and sweat and sweat.

You force me to breathe that hot, humid, nasty air.

WHY???

It doesn't have to be this way. Let's be reasonable about this.

You don't really have to do this anymore.

I know you lost 45 pounds, and you are a bit more flexible and all that.

I don't care.

Let's go back to the way it used to be. No more of this foolishness. 

No more spending all day trying to get three or four liters of water down your throat.

No more eating better.

No more sacrificing two hours of your day for this madness.

Let's go get that ice cold Coke. And a couple of burgers.

Let's not worry about how you will fit in three classes this week. Let's watch TV or play games.

You can do it. I know you can. I've been watching.

I've seen you give in from time to time. Fast-food breakfast here. Candy bar there.

And yes, I've seen you have a smoke from time to time. It's once a week, for now, isn't it?

I've watched you crumble in that room, too. Laying out for long stretches of class, or leaving the room altogether -- what's wrong Mark? Can't take it anymore, buddy? I notice that once the postures start, you're having a really hard time looking in the mirror at your own two eyes, or your knee, or anything else. You stare at the floor (or the ceiling when you're on your back, which is happening more and more often). Your muscles scream and your body feels limp (that's my doing -- it seems to be the only way I can get your attention).  You have trouble hearing the instructor because I am there, whispering to you, "It doesn't have to be this way. You don't have to do this to us.... Let's quit."

So, come on! Let's get that pack of smokes, a giant pizza, and a 12-pack of soda. Let's fire up the Playstation, or watch the ballgame. Let's not have anymore of this lunacy.

No one needs to know.

It will be our little secret.....

Take your time. I'll be here.