Namaste Hernia--hello expensive Yoga studio! With the alleged "alien" gone, I went and plunked down $130 for a 10 class pass. Bummer that the only class on a holiday is something called "restorative yoga." I figured, it had been a while--because of the possible hernia- and I needed to get back into it NOW. So I tried it. But I'm not quite sure what exactly are you restoring, during this type of yoga? Restoring your grandfather's clock would have been a better work out. I know it's all about relaxing, replenishing, restoring your body and mind--but I have never been so bored--for $16 an hour--in my life.
I tried to relax--er restore--as we lay across bolsters and rolled up blankets. But my mind kept going back to how one of my ten classes was wasted on just laying there. And trying not to think. Which wasn't happening, because the blankets my face rested on were the same blankets you sit on during a normal sweaty yoga class. And yes, this one smelled like ass. Relax. Restore. Cleared that out, only to be replaced by the massage-therapist-yoga-teacher coming by and running her hands through my hair. NOW I could only think about, "did the person before me wash her hair?" Hands combing through. Relax. Restore.
I left with more on my mind than when I walked in. Not the goal of the class I think. It's one of the reasons why I started to take Yoga to begin with. To quiet my overactive mind. It serves me well in television--I get an idea a minute. But every other part of life, not so much. (Read previous post on CT scan results + Google= no sleep) So I came home and decided to run it off on my treadmill. The treadmill I bought ten years ago when I worked at
TiVo and have lugged with me, half broken, from city to city. I can't really run on it anymore--only walk fast--because it will overheat and stop suddenly. Throwing me forward and wrenching my back. Ending up in traction is NOT one of the benefits of running on a treadmill. I should get rid of it. But I suppose --like the ex--something else I have trouble letting go of.
As I walk fast--I channel surf. TV takes my mind off stuff. Not the meditation in the restorative Yoga class--but yes--"Hoarders!" That takes my mind off stuff. Until they show a woman who's house is a complete mess--but has a new boyfriend. What? Wow. Even the hoarders have dates. What's my excuse? I have a clean house. I could invite a date in without fear of anything but having to cook pasta again. But I don't date. How did the hoarder meet this guy? Did SHE lie on her Match.com profile?
And we're back. To the overactive noodle taking control. Maybe I"m obsessive. I clean too much. I can't throw out my half-broken treadmill. I still miss Mr. PP. I dont' like to put my face on ass blankets. Change the channel. Ah good. The
Bachelorette? F it. Gonna give restorative yoga one more shot at it.
