It's That Time Again

It was a couple of weeks ago, after another disastrous class. I was in the room cleaning mats when my friend 'A' walks in. A is an extremely dedicated yogi. He routinely takes 300 classes every year. Last month he competed in the Texas USA Yoga Regionals for the first time and placed 10th. 

Anyway, 'A' comes in the room and asks how I'm doing. He knows I haven't practiced much. He knows I've been bailing on classes. 

"Mark, where have you been? We miss you. You ARE 6:30 class."

I tell him I've been busy and ill and haven't felt well. He nods and says nothing for moments. Then he smiles and looks me in the eye:

"We need to do a challenge. You and me."

In my mind I'm thinking, "What? You already take 300 classes a year. You don't have an ounce of fat on you. You can practically bend yourself in knots. Why are you asking me?"

I cough and catch my breath. I'm trying to find a reason to say no. "I don't know..."

"It will be good, my friend. Thirty days."

My brain was saying, "We need to think about this. Just say you'll think about it." But I actually heard myself say: 

"OK. Sixty days."

"OK, we start March 1st!". He smiles and leaves. 

My brain is pissed: "What in the HELL were you thinking??!!??"

For the next few days, I go back and forth. Yes I will. No I won't. I can't do this right now. Sure I can. Finally, this past Wednesday, he comes in to set up his mat for class. I walk over and say, "Monday?"

"OK! Monday!"

So here we go. Again. 

For those new to this blog, I completed a 100-day challenge last year. My longest challenge ever. Learned a lot. Worked very hard. At the end I could get into almost every posture. Then I slacked off big time. Took fewer and fewer classes each week. Got caught up in the holidays, ate very poorly, got depressed and stressed, and regressed in my practice. So, I'm starting yet again. It seems that the only way I can improve and maintain is to keep going to class. Every. Single. Day. The idea of going 4-6 days a week just never seems to work. 

Of course, the other important advantage to a challenge is that I will lose my appetite for processed food, junk food, and soda. Today's menu would make most of my fellow yogis ill: fast food breakfast sandwich, coffee, soda, fried fish, canned prepared tuna salad, more soda, and caramel sundae. (There was a salad in there, drowned in Ranch dressing.) The first order of business? Hydrate. Two liters of water tonight. Three tomorrow. Four on Sunday. Gotta wait for the next paycheck to get all the groceries I need but I'll do the best I can in the interim. There will definitely be more vegetation and no McDonalds in the diet. (My Lenten vows to eliminate fast food and caffeine failed miserably.) The wild card? I now own a juicer! I've been experimenting with it and I LOVE IT!!! So I'm hoping to incorporate fresh juice into my diet as much as possible during this challenge. It will definitely help with the first goal: reducing my gut. It's really difficult to bend forward these days because there is so much belly fat. That will change. Soon. 

I've said this before and I'll say it again: If you have never attempted a challenge before, try one! Try 30 days. Try 15 days. Even seven straight days will be very beneficial for you. Just try. It doesn't have to be a yoga challenge. Ride your bike. Walk a mile. Find something you can do every day. If you don't make the goal it's ok. Good on you just for making the effort! Rest, recoup, and try again. 

So, it's déjà vu all over again. 

Sixty days in the chamber. 

Or maybe just thirty. 

Or maybe....

Blessings In Distraction

Wednesday night. 6:30 class. I'm in a familiar spot in the third row. No one in front of me except two experienced students on the first row. They always choose the hot side of the room. 

Class starts and all is well until Triangle. The instructor moved to turn up the fans to give us a quick blast of cooler air. She turns the fans on full blast. The instructor moves to guide a newer student and forgets the fans. Even I start to feel a chill. The ladies in front are trying to get her attention and get a little exasperated, frantically trying to get the instructor's attention. I become distracted as well and had two poor Triangle sets. Now we are into Standing Separate Leg Head to Knee and the fans are still blowing full and I'm actually shivering a bit. 

Here's the kicker: while I'm trying to process the ladies' exasperation as well as my own discomfort, I completely missed the fact that I actually touched my forehead to my knee for the first time in months. By the time I realized, "Holy Crap my knee and forehead are touching!", it was time to switch sides. I didn't touch my knee on the left, though. I was still shocked by the success on the right side. In second set I didn't come close on either side because I was actively thinking about the posture instead of just letting go and letting the posture happen. 

So now the instructor realizes the issue but overcompensates by turning the fans OFF. In minutes I go from being cold to being in the fifth circle of Hell. I'm sweating so much so fast and now it's getting harder to move through the floor series. Next to me was a young woman who was starting to have trouble. When I inquired she said she was feeling ill. I asked her to lie down and breathe slowly. During Half Tortoise I get the instructor's attention, point at the fan and hold up three fingers for the fan setting. Finally, the inferno is broken and a gentle breeze drifts down. My neighbor and I feel immediate relief and are both able to finish class. The final revelation came in Spine Twist, where I was once again able to get my knee, hand, and heel in the correct position, again for the first time in months. 

I've thought about this class a lot. In the midst of distractions, I was able to, well, do the postures. Not sure if it was because my regular thought process and negative self-talk were interrupted or that it was pure luck or I'm back in a cycle of progression and growth. 

Time (and regular practice) will tell. 

Last thing: after class one of my yoga buddies asked if I would join him in starting a new challenge. He wanted to go thirty days but I upped the ante to sixty. If we decide to do this, it will start March 1st. 

Stay tuned. 

Namaste. 

Getting The Poison Out

Hello, all! 

No yoga posts since Nov 30. I think this past holiday season was the most difficult in my life so far. There simply seemed no end of trials, stresses, and illnesses. As December progressed, it seemed each day was harder than the last. The only celebrations we had were Christmas lunch with my Dad and sisters, then hosting a small lunch a couple days later. On New Years Eve the house was dark by 10:00. The entire month I felt more listless, sick, and depressed. January was much the same. Go to work, come home, sleep (or try to sleep-- insomnia was a major player. The ONLY thing I looked forward to each morning was my stop for donuts, burrito, and coffee. Every morning I plunked down $7.72 for a few minutes of joy. Lunch consisted of MickeyD's or tacos. It caught up with me quickly. I've no idea what I weigh now and frankly, I don't want to know.

Over those two months, I made it to a grand total of 16 classes. I think I completed two of them. Most often I left at or before Savasana, usually just before or after Standing Bow. Three or four times I left after Eagle. 

Why?

Basically, I had gotten so tight I could barely lift my arms. In Half Moon even the slightest bend in either direction brought pain. Awkward Pose was a complete failure: no strength or balance at all. I would simply take a knee and gasp for air. Eagle is usually a pose I take great pride in as I have come so far in that pose. Now I couldn't even come close to getting one arm under the other. It was as though my shoulders were being pinned while trying to get my arms in position. Some nights I couldn't even clasp my hands together, let alone try to get them into prayer position. That would be about the time I would give in and leave. I felt it was better for me to depart rather than be a distraction to those around me. 

So for two months, that was the drill. Go to class infrequently, fail miserably, become intimidated by the beautiful, happy men and women around me, lament my place in the room (and the world), and run away. I had accumulated so much poison from bad food, bad mood, bad everything that I was shutting down. 

The nadir came a week ago Sunday. Super Bowl Sunday. I had to work but I would be home in time for the game. Put the pork roast in the oven to slow cook for pulled pork that night. I was already fighting a head cold but I felt ok. Stopped at the donut shop for the requisite hit of fat, sugar, and caffeine, and rolled into work. About 30 minutes in, I started to feel really bad. Dizzy, headache, stomachache, the works. Left work after two hours, came home and was sick all day, all night, and most of Monday. Slept intermittently. If I wasn't coughing up crap from my lungs, I was... you know. 

I've never felt so bad or had both respiratory and digestive issues at once. It felt like my body had finally said, "That's it. We need urgent repairs. Too much poison. Time to purge. We are shutting down. Deal with it."

So I did. By Tuesday I could eat again but I knew it was time to correct some of these issues. With Lent beginning last week, I decided to try and do without fast food or caffeine for the 40 days. So far the fast food part (including the donut shop) has been easy, but the caffeine part has been more difficult. I've broken down two of the last three days for coffee. 

After ten days away from the room, I got back in last Wednesday. To say I was apprehensive would be an understatement. 

It was good. Shockingly good. 

First, I could actually breathe deeply! I mean a FULL, six second inhale. My lungs felt so much better. I think my lungs have entered another phase of recovery (May will mark two years without a smoke!) and I had to get rid of more junk from the lower part of my lungs. 

Second, side bends did not hurt. My Half Moon felt so good again! Plus, I wasn't gasping for air in the back bend portion of the pose. I was slightly shocked at how good it felt. I still fell out of Awkward but it still felt easier. In Eagle, not only did I clasp my hands (and attempt prayer position) bit I was able to hook my foot on both sides! Yeah, me!

Third, I made it all the way through class. My floor poses are in a world of hurt right now. Long way to go but it felt much better. 

After class, the instructor stopped me while I was cleaning mats. I think it was her first time to teach at our studio but she and her beau have been practicing at the studio for a while and she had seen me abandon class more than once. 

"That is the best class I have seen you take since I've been here. Great job!" She gave me a high five. 

"Thank you.", I said. "It's been rough. I think I just had to get the poison out."

She smiled. "No better place to do it."

No, indeed. 

Two nights later I was back in the room. This time I attempted every posture. I have so far to return to the form I had, but that's ok. There is still some more poison to purge. It just takes time. 

I lost my faith in myself and my life. I'm reclaiming myself. I can do this. 

Namaste. 

Join The #LOVE TSUNAMI !!!

It was a tough yoga class or workout. You gave everything. You are spent.

You think to yourself, "I just can't move another muscle."

You wait a few minutes, get your second (third, fourth) wind, get up, and go about your day.

There are others in this world who cannot.

I would like you to meet Elizabeth D'Angelo, an artist fighting a debilitating disease and needs some help. 

All I ask is that you read the following and consider purchasing from her shop. If you cannot, please consider a donation. If that is not possible, please share this post. Thank You!!

From her Facebook page:


Dear friends,

You have been chosen from a sea of amazing humans to carry a torch and help save a life!
This fire was ignited by a strong and beautiful soul: Elizabeth D' Angelo (Beth!). Beth is an inspiring and courageous artist whose life and work are a true example of what being a love warrior means. Elizabeth has been suffering from severe Chronic Fatigue Syndrome/ Myalgic Encephalomyelitis for several years. She spent a year in bed, unable to move, speak, have the lights on or open the blinds. With perseverance, she has gotten a little better, but she is still almost entirely bedroom bound and her level of suffering is high. 

She has painted all of these images from her bedroom over the last 5 years. She paints while battling muscle spasms (with icepacks on her arms) on top of having about 5% of the muscle strength and energy of a healthy person. She also has two herniated disks in her neck that affect the use of her right arm (her primary arm). She perseveres. She fights and shows up daily. She comes to us to ask for help. She wants to get well.
Soon, she is scheduled to begin IV therapy and she needs the funds to do it.

Will you help us to share her story with your friends by changing your profile photo to an image of her artwork along with the links below? Will you choose to buy your Christmas presents from her shop? Will you share this folder with a brief introduction for your friends?

Redbubble Shop: http://www.redbubble.com/people/bethdangelo

Fundraiser: http://www.youcaring.com/medical…/elizabeth-s-miracle/213280

Her website: http://www.elizabethdangelo.com/

This is a TAOLK (A Targeted Act of Kindness) as part of The Love Tsunami. 

Join us, please!

‪#‎LoveTsunami
‬ ‪#‎LoveWarriors‬ 
‪#‎elizabethdangelo‬


Scroll down for a few examples of her work.

Courtesy solvecfs.org

 

 

Starting Again. Again.

Well here we are. Time to bid November adieu. The holidays are nigh upon us and a new year is on the horizon. After such a strong start to my yoga year, my practice ground to a complete halt. Long days at work and little sleep have resulted in only six classes since Halloween, and none in the past twelve days. I haven't missed a cleaning shift in all that time, but many nights I have opted to stay home and nap during class before going in to tidy things up. In addition my weight has kept rising. I'm up to 258 lbs. Morning trips to the donut shop, pizza rolls or burritos for lunch, and lots of coffee and soda to wash it all down. 

I look horrible  I feel worse. 

I did stop down and visit my doctor for some blood work. I haven't had a physical since high school but the doc ordered blood tests in lieu of a full work up. Fortunately everything is in order, but it won't stay that way if I stay on this path. 

However, as Bikram says, "You’re never too old, never too bad, never too late and never too sick to start from the scratch once again."

So, I'm starting again. Again. 

Back in the room tonight. 

I am dreading it. 

Namaste. 

Epilogue: I bailed out at Savasana. I couldn't keep my arms up, nor could I bend forward, nor could I hold my balance. It was comical. Oh, well. There is tomorrow. I think. 

Freak Show

"Come one, come all!

Come and watch the bald, fat man try to do that new-fangled thing called "yoga".

Watch him gasp and then yawn uncontrollably during the Prana and Yama. 

Look as he tries to make a half of a moon.. Looks more like a man struggling to keep his arms above his head. 

Shiver as he vainly tries to touch his toes or put his hands behind his heels!

Feel the sheer terror as he falters during posture after posture!

Quake as he crashes to the floor during that "Triangle Pose"!

Avert your eyes as he flops around like a beached whale! 

If you are of a weak constitution you are advised to avoid this theater! Adults only, please!

Come one, come all!!

Watch the amazing bald, fat, wannabe yogi!!!"

Burn The Leaves (Redux)

Note: The first version of this poem appeared last fall. I reworked it and I think it's better. As for yoga, bronchitis has had me down but I hope to be back in the room soon. Namaste.

BURN THE LEAVES (Redux)  

Autumn comes again

the land begins to cool

Summer's heat will dissipate --

Dreams and passions never do.

Winter has yet to show

Its cold and furrowed brow

Spring is many months away

The time to clean is now

The trees have just begun to turn 

From green to red and gold

But this is not a time to grieve --

Rise up! Stand tall!!

Be bold!!!

So gather up the leaves!

Pile them high in the setting sun

And along with those dying leaves 

Pile up the dreams

And hopes that were undone

You see, in nature nothing is lost

Matter merely changes form

As a phoenix must dissolve into ash

In order to be reborn

So set that pile of leaves alight

Watch them smolder and burn

Warm yourself in the soft firelight

And let your dreams and hopes return

Copyright 2015 DTP

Stuck

Quite a long time since I wrote, but I'm keeping this one short. September was a long, cruel, difficult month. So many things happening. So much energy expended, so little gained, so much time and effort for others. None for myself. And it shows. 

Last week I got my yearly flu shot. For some reason, they decided to weigh me before getting the vaccine. 247.6 pounds. Oh dear Lord, it was worse than I thought. Too many late night meals, all the daily trips to the donut shop, all the pre-processed fast food. I can't recall the last healthy meal I had. 

My yoga practice had become equally poor. After 101 straight days of yoga, I have taken exactly 30 classes in the last 83 days. None of those classes could be described as good. In fact at least three of them ended within 30 minutes. My worst class lasted 90 seconds. At the first inhale of Pranayama, I started coughing uncontrollably and had to leave the room. You read it right. That class lasted 90 seconds. I have no strength, balance, or flexibility anymore -- it's truly is as though I was back to that first day six years ago. I don't have any faith in myself and I spend long stretches of class sitting or laying out. I've considered resigning my work study position and giving up my practice. Seriously. 

I'm stuck. I don't know where to turn or which way to go. 

Be well. 

Suffering, continued

So last night after writing "Suffering", I'm having a conversation with a friend on Twitter. He asks me how many posts I've written and that I should consider curating an "e-book". I really didn't think much about it. I mean, I have never EVER considered such a thing. This morning, just a few minutes ago in fact, another friend echoed that sentiment and even challenged me to go through with the idea. 

My response? 

First, nervous laughter. They really aren't serious. They can't be. I'm not a writer. Not really. I just write. 

Then when it was thought that I had accepted the challenge, outright panic. I said, "no. No. NO!!!". That was followed by an outright, "STOP!!". I was shaking. I wanted to run. Hide. Stick my head in the sand. Go and get donuts. 

Well, I held off on the donuts (just coffee). I began to consider my response to this event. It didn't take long to realize that how I responded to this "e-book" idea was how I have responded to most every portend of change in my life. With panic, distrust, and fear. 

The idea of a publishing a book. 

Accepting promotion at work. 

Finding a different line of work. 

Going back to school. 

Becoming a yoga instructor (Bikram or otherwise). 

Basically, anything that threatens to upset the status quo is an anathema to me. "Better the devil you know..." is my motto. Anything different and my knees buckle, my stomach turns, and I turn red and start sweating. The same response as when we were forced into square dance lessons in 7th grade gym class and I stumbled into classmate after classmate, or when that girl asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance in high school, or when I would be asked (time after time after time) to consider moving to a management position. 

I make excuses. I make self deprecating jokes. I change the subject. I leave the room. I tweet, "STOP!!". 

My heart whispers to me, but I don't hear it. 

I don't want to hear it. 

I'm afraid to listen. 

Suffering

Two or three months ago, I purchased The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho. If you have yet to read it, it is a remarkable story about chasing your dreams and finding your "Personal Legend" -- your destiny or purpose. I've read this book several times now, and each time I find a different quote or passage that stays with me. Last night, after I wrote the previous post, I was leafing through the book when I happened on the passage in which the alchemist urges Santiago to listen to his heart. His heart speaks:

"People are afraid to pursue their most important dreams, because they feel that... they'll be unable to achieve them. We, their hearts, become fearful... Because, when these things happen, we suffer terribly."

Santiago tells this to the alchemist. His reply:

"Tell you heart that the fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams..."

A chord was struck within me. 

How many of us suffer every day? How many of us live our entire lives in fear?

How many of us choose '...Hanging on in quiet desperation...' as described in the Pink Floyd tune "Time"?

How many of us forfeit the chance for the life we deserve because we fear the cost or the work or the possibility of failure?

How many of us realize that, as time passes, our hearts speak more and more softly to us, "...but we begin to hope that our words won't be heard: we don't want people to suffer because they don't follow their hearts."

I live in fear. Everyday. 

I have no dreams. No destiny. I've no idea where to start my search. 

Therefore, I suffer. Everyday. 

Even if I knew what it was I was supposed to do, my fear of change would override all. 

I can't hear my heart anymore. 

So the suffering continues. 

Do you suffer? 

Peace. 

The Fraudulent Yogi

My name is Mark, and I am a fraud. 

I'm not really a yogi. 

I just go to yoga. 

I don't always do the posture. 

I don't follow up the yoga with other healthy habits. Well, sometimes I try but sooner or later I'm back at the donut shop or the burger joint or the ice cream in the freezer. 

I try new classes. I feel as though I'm capable of new postures/exercises. In reality, I'm not. I'm lazy. I don't put in the work every day. Sometimes I'm so tired after work that I collapse on the bed and tell myself, "Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will try." 

Tomorrow usually doesn't arrive. 

I see other students progress and improve themselves. I watch them pass me by. 

I see people leave the studio happy and smiling. I do not. 

I see my body aging. I loathe it. 

I practice alongside people with careers they LOVE instead of mere jobs. I see happy couples practicing together, showing their LOVE for each other by supporting one another in the room. I see people practice (and teach) with passion. I see the confidence they exude. I see SUCCESS. 

Myself? I am weak. I walk in that room with no strength. I mean no strength. When the instructor is trying to help me with arm balances (Crow or Frog), I make jokes: "It's gonna take a block and tackle to get my legs off the ground..."

I forget to do planks or push-ups (my latest challenges) and I cuss myself out. When I get to class (twice in the last eight days), I find that all the strength, balance, and flexibility I gained during my 100 day challenge are gone. I watch newer people nail postures in no time while I repeatedly fall out again and again... and again. My last class was just abysmal. Nothing went right at all. Everything hurt. Balance and flexibility were rumors, and strength was a flat no show. Oh, did I mention? All the weight I lost during the challenge is back... and then some. My gut had diminished to the point that forward bends were possible, and pulling both legs up in Wind-Removing was easy. No more. I can't breathe in those poses. During stretching, I have trouble reaching forward and touching or grasping my toes. 

I don't know what I should do. 

Press on?

Quit?

Go grab a cheeseburger?

Lately I've been thinking. 

Thinking of epitaphs. 

For me. 

Namaste. 

¡Vamos!

This past Friday I was privileged to take a special Bikram class. For the past month. we have had a visiting instructor from Colombia named Monica. As a treat for all, she taught her final class with us completely in Spanish. 

  

This special class had been announced a week earlier and instantly people were talking about it and wanted to be a part of it. For myself, I had a choice to make: take the class en Español or take my second Core40 (intermediate) class. I wasn't sure what I would do until a couple of days prior. Since Monica was staying at the studio (there is a tiny room with a bed for visitors) she got to see the work-study crew quite a bit. So on Wednesday when she gave each of us a small gift of high quality chocolate, the decision was made. Honestly, give me chocolate and I will do almost anything...

Anyway, Friday arrived and an unexpected errand had me rushing to make the 4:30 class. Looked in the room and there was already quite a crowd. I grabbed a spot and stretched as much as I could. The gong sounded and Monica entered to a hearty round of applause. She was taken by the moment and expressed her gratitude at how many people were there. She then told us that there would be no more English spoken in class, to come to standing and ,"Have fun!".

Now, I am by no means fluent in Spanish, but I did take four years of it in high school. Every so often I do have to use it to try and help a Spanish speaking customer, but it's very broken. One extra help: one of my yoga buddies is Hispanic and was set up in front of me so I could take visual cues if needed. 

"¡Vamos! Inhale... Uno, dos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis... Exhale..."

I could pick up bits and pieces about keeping your  codos (elbows) up and out. The first thing you notice is how many words are used and how quickly they are spoken. Monica did say that there are twice as many words in the Spanish version of the diálogo. Despite the language difference, it wasn't terribly difficult to keep pace. Once into the postures, it seemed easier. We bent our bodies a la derecha, then a la izquierda in Half-Moon; each time being challenged to, "Empuja. Empuja. ¡Empuja!" In Standing Bow we were exhorted to. "¡Patea mas alto!". El Triángulo is still difficult regardless of the language used. We all learned very quickly that the command "Cambio" meant "Change". When she gave a correction and the student complied, she would happily say, "¡Eso es!" ("That's it!"). I recall that most of the Sanskrit names were used for each asana. The memorable exceptions (apart from Triangle) were La Media Tortuga (Half-Tortoise), El Camello (Camel), and El Conejo (Rabbit). After each posture we were reminded to, "Respira por la nariz."

Observations:

1) Because the language was different, no one could really get a jump on a pose. It seemed to me that we were moving in unison far more than in a normal class. It also seemed that everyone was giving maximum effort; pouring themsves out on their mat. The result? Less extraneous movement and much better, more pure energy flowing through the room. 

2) Personally, it was one of the best experiences I've had in that room. Joyous. Simply joyous. Because of the language change, I was actually listening for the first time in quite a while. I was involved again. Had to be to avoid looking silly. I got my hands under my heels in Hands-to-Feet for the first time since the challenge ended. I worked so hard in that pose that my heart was racing much faster than it would in a normal class. My pulse kept racing through Triangle but it felt fantastic. I felt alive!! After a while, the words became more like music to me and I floated into the yoga zone, that blissful, safe place where one is truly one with the universe inside you. That place where the rest of world disappears and it's just you and your breath. The class flew by so fast that suddenly we were doing Rabbit then stretching and breathing and I just wanted to slow time down and savor every second. One of my top yoga experiences. 

The applause at the end was even louder that at the beginning. Everyone was smiling and in such a great mood. In the lobby afterwards, there was champagne, laughter, and hugs. A marvelous afternoon of yoga. A beautiful event that I was privileged to be a part of. 

If the chance arises to take class in a foreign language or in a foreign port, DO IT!! You might just get a lesson in how interconnected we truly are. 

Namaste. 

The Aftermath

It has been just over a week since I completed my 100 day Bikram challenge.

The grind is over.

No more doubles. No more rising in the wee hours to fit in a class before work. No more late night loads of laundry to make sure my gear is ready for the next day. 

People ask how I'm feeling. They ask if things are different. They ask if I feel a real change. 

My answer? Well, yes. And no. 

Physically, yes I did feel different -- at least for a few days. I was lighter. I was more flexible. Poses that were very difficult were easier. Poses that I excelled at became fun, even joyous. My breathing was better. There were mental improvements as well. My focus was so much better! Those negative voices and thoughts receded into the background. For a day or two, I was on a real emotional high. I felt so good about what I had accomplished. My yoga "family" gave me so much love and support that a simple "Thank You" seems too simple. Banal. Trite. 

Just a week later, it all seems foreign, as though it was a dream. A story I made up in my head. Now that my yoga "bubble" has burst, I feel as though I'm back where I started. 

I've been on vacation this week. A lazy, do very little staycation. I haven't done much this week. The first four mornings, I got up and walked 2-3 miles each morning. It was quite refreshing and I easily worked up a sweat in the warm, humid conditions. As for yoga, I have completed only two classes since the challenge ended. Monday's class wasn't too bad. I was still able to kick out both sides in Head to Knee. That said, it had been 85 hours since class #101 last Friday, and it showed. I was much less flexible. The strength wasn't there. The balance was more difficult to maintain. I ascribed this to the fact that my body was recovering from the grind, and that in a few days an equilibrium would be found. Not so. Wednesday's class was worse. I had no strength or balance. I fell out of almost every pose. I sat out Triangle, something that hasn't happened in weeks! Anyone watching would hardly believe I had just completed a challenge. 

This brings us to Thursday. 

I was invited to take class and then join some of my friends/classmates for dinner. I was hesitant because they are younger, more successful, and have better yoga practices than me. Most of all, they always seem to be much happier or content than I am. Always smiling and playing around in the room after class. I didn't want to be a downer or a nuisance. 

So it's Thursday and class begins and I can hardly breathe or move. It quickly becomes apparent that I'm panicking. I make it through the first three postures, then grab my mat and beat a hasty retreat. I text apologies and go home feeling terrible. I binge on cheeseburgers and fall asleep. 

Many people say that a long duration challenge changes you. You feel different. You look different. Your temperament changes. Your life improves. One of my instructors even used the following quote:

"Do your practice. All is coming."

- Sri K Pattabhi Jois

For my two work study friends who completed 30 and 60 day challenges in the midst of my own, this is true. One started her own business. The other found a dream job that she loves. I am insanely happy for them. 

Me? Well it will be back to the same old job with the same struggles and fights and disappointments. I had the fortitude to go to yoga for 100 days, yet I cannot summon the courage to search for a new and better way of living. Living in a yoga bubble for three months plus gave me a place to hide, to consider what I could do if I merely made an effort. I thought I made strides forward and gained a measure of confidence. I thought I was ready for real change. In reality, little has changed. I'm still watching my life pass by through a glass that I cannot break. I know there is a better way. I just can't get there. I am weak. I am gutless. And the clock keeps ticking. 

I should have kept going. 

Peace.