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A Supposedly Slim Person I'll Never Be Again |
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Except when I am. Time and again I've strived to fit exercise and health between work and family, sex and bathroom cleaning, diapers and homework. And failed. I've watched my online sisters do Shredheads and group weight loss challenges, like a kid sitting by a window doing homework during recess. I failed before I started, convinced it wouldn't work, that there wasn't time and then capitulated to the onward thrust of days. 40 came and went, a job ended, my 2nd husband moved out. Another year. The story begins with a young woman, divorced, unemployed, and overweight who documents her journey to health. For no other reason than I am sick of being tired and wrung out, I decided if she can do it, so can I. She chose Bikram Yoga, so I followed suit. I like the promise of "try this for 60 days and see the results." It's reminiscent enough of recovery (you get coins at 30, 60, and 90 days and other time increments) that I feel comfortable giving it a shot. It turns out there are many reasons to fear Bikram Yoga (aka: "hot yoga"). 90 minutes in a room heated to 105 degrees Fahrenheit is only the beginning; 26 asanas, or poses, of increasing difficulty, one following the other so quickly there is barely time to panic; scantily clad very trim women and men; a huge full-wall mirror in the front of the room, into which one is encouraged to fix one's gaze on the (in my case) startling reality of 8 years without an exercise program. And this is just the beginning. My first class, I'm shocked at the state of my health. I can barely reach down to touch my toes, and the heat and exertion have me watching the clock after 15 minutes and praying for the class to end. Eventually it does. And I decide to suspend my disbelief long enough to do it again. And again. It's been four weeks now, and as it happens, Bikram Yoga proves just enough sick torture chamber to keep me coming back. I can't go running, or walking, or do anything requiring proximity to home or children without the gravitational pull of guilt and chores sucking me back into its orbit. I can't buy a pilates CD, join Weight Watchers online, and discipline my flesh in the middle of my family room. I need to leave; exit my reality and enter another. A place where leaving early is frowned upon; where the encouragement is so constant the voices in one's head (the grocery lists, doubts about the divorce, mistakes recounted) aren't merely drowned out, they're decimated. I feel like all the demons of doubt and chubbiness are exorcised during class. I move mountains and beg childcare to get there. I sweat and cry and grunt. And I can't wait to go back again the next day. I emerge on the other side of one of these classes, covered in sweat, reassured that my body can be brought back to the health and strength of the tomboy soccer player I once was. If I can do it, so can you. Come on! I double-dog dare you. | ||
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5 Responses to "A Supposedly Slim Person I'll Never Be Again"Leave a comment: | ||
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1. Amanda
Jan 25, 2010 19:42
I remember reading about you thinking about taking some time without drinking. I love reading now about you embarking on this journey at which I believe you will be equally successful. Go you!2. Beth
Jan 25, 2010 22:04
Does working on yoga postures count? It's gonna take ma some time to get to Bikram! You are my exercise god!3. Rachael Brownell
Jan 25, 2010 22:54
I agree with everything said. I have many grandmas in town who I can beg to watch my youngest... It also helps that I am determined this time. Come hell or high water as the saying goes...4. Deanna
Jan 26, 2010 01:39
AMEN SISTER! For some reason that idea of being healthy AND leaving reality for an hour or two morphs this whole "how loooooooong will this take before I fit into a size 6 again???" goal into a "one day at time/me time" goal. I'm determined with you!!5. Jae
Mar 19, 2010 22:08
I couldn't agree with you more!! Every word, I'm like "yes!" As a former lover of vino, and a mother to twins and a singleton, I get it. I do! :)