Today (Yesterday as I post this) was a surreal day, and I felt I should share. It was one of those days that I look back on and wonder how I made it through with my sanity intact. I did not, after careful consideration, opt to spend the evening in a vegetative state in front of my computer, drooling and shredding Kleenex whilst watching videos of cats until 1 AM. I am in bed early, if you can imagine. The Four Horsemen are confused, since this should signal the Apocalypse, but seemingly everything is calm, so says the hour watchmen. (or was that soccer on downstairs? Hmmm….) Update: Yup. Soccer. Shoulda guessed with the overtone of angry bees.
The day started off well enough, with my son wearing coordinated clothes for the first time in days, breakfast not eaten in the car, a great parking spot (SCORE!) and a relatively stress free morning. I even recieved more RAM for my work computer, which was a celebration in of its own, as I can now have Word, Illustrator, and Outlook open at the same time and not crash it. God Bless technology. Oh, and Morning Buns from Bridgehead… Those too.
I have a Lululemon purchase bag turned lunch bag that says “Do one thing a day that scares you”. So, I suppose I took it literally, and packed a couple of scary things in. You know, just for kicks. I’m a multitasker like that, I suppose. Tomorrow I’ll be able to safely ensconse myself in my bubble of comfort and not come out except for perhaps an afternoon tea, my scare-a-day meter full from this day’s events. So Chamomile, if you please, with honey and lemon.
Scary Thing the First: I decided to join a good friend on Parliament Hill for an hour of free yoga put on by Lululemon, who’s motto is love, Dove chocolate, and Hairy Krispies to you all, groovy cats… or something like that.*
Yes. Yoga. Stiff l’il ole me contorting myself with the Government, Mounties, and the Protestors-du-jour in attendance. I have never done Yoga in a formal sense, only knowing two poses (and forgive my technical terms here); the Sitting-Feet-Together-Lotus-Thing, and the Lieing-Down-Hip-Swivel-Thing. Oh right, three poses. I can do the cross-legged-zen-breathing-thing too.
I was sure I would resemble a drunken pterodactyl, or perhaps a very uncoordinated sack of potatoes in bright pink spandex, but I was game to try. For those who know me, I am not a yoga-type person. I have tried the poses on the Wii board we bought (and don’t use much now), and after whacking my head off the couch twice from falling over, I gave up. I’m just not meant to be able to pull my leg over my shoulder and stand with my hands pointed to Heaven. Balance on a muscly-jumping horse? I has it. Balance on solid, flat ground in bare feet on a grabby mat? Not so much.
I was awash in a rainbow of expensive spandex and lithe, skinny, yoga legs as I sat on my pink Wal-mart mat, looking about me with a great sense of inadequacy. I was here, I had committed, I was going to do this, but boy did I feel out of place! My friend was a bit late, but on her way, so I was alone for the moment. Then, a nicely rounded-out girl such as myself, wearing a tiger-print t-shirt and cutoff jogging pants plunked herself down beside me, smiled nervously and rolled out her own mat. I felt better. We were two kindred souls in a sea of people who could touch their arse with the back of their head, and fold their legs up to impersonate pretzels.
As we started, the bells on the Peace Tower were bonging 12 noon, and our instructor, who’s name was Mike (whom I immediately dubbed Michael of The Muscles), told us he was going to take us through a Power Yoga routine. Now, I am not up on the lingo or the types, but when several people who were in ownership of said lithe, skinny yoga legs groaned, I got worried. Power yoga? WTF is that, and will I require a medic when I am done?
What resulted was an hour of the most fun I have had rolling about on a mat in a long time. (ok, so there is something more fun than that but you can’t do that in public without being arrested). Twenty minutes into it, my friend had arrived (she of the lateness), and I was sweating so much I was now dripping onto my pink Wal-mart yoga mat. My back was soaked, and I was sure the sunscreen I had put on was now utterly useless update: Yes. Ow. As I contorted myself into some pose where I put my left leg onto my right leg and attempted to resemble a tree, I was sure I was going to expire right then and there. But, at the end of the hour, as we did our “resting pose” (I almost fell asleep, seriously) I was proud of myself for persevering. Every muscle was quivering. Michael of The Muscles had taken us from pose to pose without a break, and I am now very versed into the “Downward Dog” to “Cobra” to “Triangle” motion. It was methodical, I suppose, and although slow, was a jam-packed routine, so said several of the owners of lithe, skinny yoga legs. Michael of The Muscles was very patient and provided optional poses for those not able to tuck their entire foot into their groins, or do a shoulder stand. Like me. *&@# NO did I attempt that! I did not want to topple sideways and start a domino reaction along the row of people with their piggies pointed to the clouds.
What was interesting was the enjoyment I got from being on the lawns at the seat of our country’s rulers, listening to the national anthem played on the bells in the Peace Tower, the contruction workers slowly building the stage for the Canada Day celebrations (The Queen will be there! Ooh!) and I immersed myself in the moment of simple quiet in the middle of downtown, and let myself simply have the time for me. The only real disctraction was a news team filming the whole thing. Yep. My big ole spandexed butt was potentially on the late evening local news. I did not tune in to find out this past evening. I did not want to discourage myself.
In the end, it wasn’t so scary after all.
I am going back, and excited to try this yoga thing again, with my friend, and perhaps more recruits (safety in numbers!). Perhaps I have found a new way to exercise that will help me achieve my weight loss goals. Perhaps I have found a new outlet to combat the stress in my life that sometimes threatens to turn me from the sweet little muffin I am (oh dear…. I typed that with a straight face) into a fully-exploded &*$#@-o-rama who has meltdowns and eats an entire chocolate bar in less time than it takes to stand in line to buy it.
Provided one thing. That there are no more Earthquakes directly afterwards! Which was Scary Thing the Second, by the way. I won’t go into details other than to say *@%$ I have never had a more panic-full ten seconds in my life when the earth rumbled like a freight train and shook our entire building like a dirty martini. I did get to go home early, but it was awhile before my heart settled itself back down again, since I had gotten it really going with said Power Yoga only an hour before, and it was already telling me to quit it with the adrenalin physical activity thing. No kidding…
Please, Mother Nature…. Namaste…… No more surprises, ok?