I was a complete yoga slut last week. Just sharing it all around, no loyalty, no particular focus on one practice and discipline, just having a fancy old time of it with all the teachers and all the styles.
I did aerial yoga on Tuesday – hammocks, and inversions, and being all curled up in the cocoon. I do think my eye-balls are going to pop when I’m upside-down for too long, but it is so beautiful and relaxing just hanging there like a grub in a chrysalis waiting to be a butterfly (with poppy eyeballs).
I did have a sore neck a couple of days later which I blamed on too much time in front of the computer (which sadly is one of my favourite things to do ever, even though I know the beauty and the health benefits of having time completely disconnected from any technology). I know the obsession is a problem, but right now I’m focussing on my yoga promiscuity rather than the whole social media addiction. My life is just one big oxy-of-the-morons actually. Anyhoo, Miss 11 wanted to stay up late and watch something with me on Netflix, which I was watching because (apart from being completely obsessed with Netflix even thought I don’t watch TV) I had a sore neck and thought I should get off the computer, so I bribed her to massage my neck and shoulders for an hour so she didn’t have to go to bed. It worked really well and she didn’t stop the whole time in fear I would send her off (which I wouldn’t have, but I didn’t tell her that while she was rubbing my upper shoulders with muscle soothing aromatherapy). I realised afterwards that my sore next was actually probably from trying too hard to engage my core in the aerial yoga hammock. Dangerous.
On Saturday I went off to the real traditional yoga with the amazing German yoga teacher in our town. She’s such a great teacher, and I actually love her classes even though she occasionally smacks me on the ass for not engaging my core and has a way of wording things to make you understand the problem is not your body or your lack of flexibility but your weak mind. Which is totally true, but my weak mind really likes to blame my lack of core strength on being tall, having had four children and spending too much time on front of the computer, rather than the fact that I am not determined or dedicated enough to do the plank properly. I even did the scorpion pose all inverted and up the wall, and my eyes didn’t feel like popping and afterwards we went for coffee in the sunshine and I felt strong and fit and later in the day flexed at myself in the mirror and felt proud.
On Sunday, like a little trash bag, I took myself off to SUP yoga. Yoga in the ocean on a stand-up paddleboard that has been anchored so as not to float away. It’s ridiculously good, but after a month off I found I had lost all my talent and spent most of the class desperately trying not to fall in gracelessly. Which happened anyway. I could not even do Warrior 2 on the board and wound up in the ocean screeching. The ocean was magic on Sunday, all silky and soft but there was some sneaky swell, and it’s May, and getting a bit cold for falling off gracelessly. Possibly the biggest oxymoron of this particular morning was driving the world’s loudest V8 ute to yoga and wearing bogan guy’s sunglasses while I breathed in the smell of the ocean and said Namaste.
So there you have it. My slutty week of yoga.
I do think it’s important to mix things up and doing 3 exercise events in one week is my favourite minimum and I haven’t done that for a while, but I only have one more week of aerial yoga to go (before it’s all over) and SUP yoga might be changing to sunset beach yoga (and there may have been a mention of wine in there) and my weak mind is finding it increasingly difficult to get up early in the cold and dark and get out of the house. Might have to find indoor exercise. Nope. I didn’t meant that. Goodness me.