12.22.2004 - 3:46 p.m.
Wednesday
Yesterday was yoga class night, and while I started to head directly home from work I managed to squash my laziness juuuust long enough to make the exit onto 148th NORTH, instead of SOUTH, and thusly correct my trajectory to the gym. Once I'm headed in that direction the effort it takes to flip a bitch ends up trumping my shameful desire to skip a workout - now if only I didn't have the 20 minutes of highway time beforehand to play Schizophrenia Girl ("I should work out!" "I should go home!" "I'll feel better!" "I just want to sit on the couch and watch 'Lost'!").
Every time I actually make it to class, I'm glad I did so - I always feel better afterwards, looser and more relaxed. I like the teacher quite a bit, she does a good job of covering the breathing/meditative aspect of yoga without getting all tofu-y about it. We start out the class sitting and breathing, then we do about an hour of poses, then it's time for my FAVORITE yoga position: savasana, where you lie on your back, eyes closed, in the dark. MmmmmmzZZZZZZZZ.
Last night we had to do this one pose that I really hate; I can't remember what it's called but it involves squatting. (Gah, the word "squat" is terrible, isn't it? It sounds exactly like what it looks like.) You squat, feet flat, butt hovering a few inches above the ground, then you put your hands in prayer position and sort of push the knees outward with your elbows. It's incredibly unflattering, which is a very un-yoga thought to have, but when you're all hunkered over looking like you're trying to take a crap the size of a hay bale, it's a little difficult to release the ego.
We also did shoulderstands, which are supposed to look like this, but I always end up looking like one of those weird attention-getter inflated tubes that you see sometimes at car dealerships - they're sort of shaped like a person, all flopping and flapping around in the wind? Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. SHUT UP IT IS.
When I left class, I noticed some holiday-related anomolies at the gym; a kiosk deal set up by the racquetball courts that appears to exclusively sell red roses, and a display of jewelry and teeny purses in the section that sells sporting attire. I guess it's catering to important businessmen who have time to swim a few laps but can't be bothered to click on Amazon this time of year. "Oh honey, it's beautiful!" "Yes, it came from the Pro Club - nothing but the best for YOU, m'dear."
Anyway, when I got home, I was so glad I had gone - I can't understand how it is SO INCREDIBLY HARD to remember that feeling of goodness, of tired happy muscles. Why, why, WHY does my brain pull a 404 when I am considering the gym, and slides in a picture of slothful reality-show viewing in its place? DAMN YOU, BRAIN.
P.S. Day two of low carb eating: I bought a small container of cottage cheese and ate that for lunch. I felt virtuous and protein-fueled! Way to go, me! Then I read on the Atkins website that during "induction" you are not supposed to have cottage cheese, EVER. NONE. Cottage cheese = V. BAD, for reasons I do not understand. Stupid. Fucking. Low. Carb. Diet.
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