In the short time of a weekend I managed to feel both well and amazing and high, and gross and nauseous and low. For some reason I’ve felt sick the past couple of days, not sure why. Then again, we never really know why. It could always be a plethora of possibilities so I just try to deal and not think to much about it.
But let’s talk about the good part. For the first time in over two years I went and took a yoga class this past Friday. My body was feeling able and ready. I felt so incredibly proud of myself afterward I couldn’t stop smiling. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that way and I’ve missed it.
Let me explain why this is such a big deal. The first reason being the background fear I live with every day that my heart may go cookoo bananas and set my defibrillator off. My fear increases at the thought of doing something athletic, aerobic, or exerting. This fear stems from a few things but mainly from the fact that I am told by cardiologists I cannot do any aerobic working out –cardio in particular. Swimming is ok but let’s get real, I live in NYC. I am also “allowed” to bike but only if I keep a close watch on my heart rate and keep it under 125. No thanks… too much to think about at a time when you’re supposed to be clearing your mind.
So, in the past I’ve done yoga. Stretchy sleepy slow restorative yoga. For a while I had a lovely yoga teacher who came to my house once a week and did restorative poses with me for an hour and a half. The restorative yoga worked magic over one year as it got me from a very frail, weak body to one that I felt strong and more comfortable in. It also helped me adjust to the metal box protruding from my bony chest and re-introduced me to my body after all the trauma it had been through. The breathing and stretching was so healing, and although I had to stop the one-on-one lessons (muy expensivo) I still practice what I learned on my own.
Yet lately I’ve been looking for that yummy physical outlet. Somewhere I can go and move my body for a long period of time. I had been thinking about a class for some time now and always let my nerves get the best of me. I was a wreck to go on my own … what if I collapsed in this place filled with strangers? What if I feel faint and can’t get home quick enough? How will I feel when I see that I cannot keep up? Completely messing with my own mind.
Finally I kicked the “what-ifs” and got my butt to a class near to my apartment. I felt so anxious and thought about turning around twice but trooped on.
It was a beginner class. The second I stood there I had to face a lot of “Lauren” stuff. Like, who I am at the very core. I felt crazy competitive. I wanted to be the best in the class, do everything perfect and hold every pose super long and hear “great job Lauren!” But, chill out L , this class isn’t about that. It’s about small victories and only looking inside myself, not around the room. I decided to just close my eyes for most of it and concentrate.
I was only physically capable of doing a little less than 1/3 of the hour and fifteen minute class. For the poses I couldn’t maintain, and the repetitions I couldn’t endure I just sat on my mat in a comfortable pose, a stretch, or quietly meditated on my breath. It was a tough realization to see that my body wasn’t capable of so much in comparison to others my age (and much older) . Each time I couldn’t do something I thought about rolling up my mat and leaving. I had that moment of feeling lame, but I would immediately change the Debbie Downer attitude and something would make me stay.
I am so happy I did stay. The end of the class brought a huge sense of accomplishment. The teacher was cool, I told her a little bit about my situation at the start. She said she was so so glad I stayed, and that it was a great thing to come and be in a class environment –that I would feed off the energy in the room. I do agree and I am attempting my second class today. I still get anxious but now I’m determined to keep going until I can do the entire class.
I love a goal.
