Tuesday, I went to yoga for the first time in about five years. It was a great experience, free, and Yoga to the People put on a great class. I worked up a healthy sweat, stretched some muscles that I forgot existed, and I felt at peace; it was lovely. I even controlled my laughter when people started exhaling/moaning/yelling. However, when I woke up Wednesday morning, I had a bit of a different view of it. The only way to describe it is through the email I sent my roommate that morning. I think I summed it up well:
I want to thank you again for taking me to yoga, and I’m very happy we went. However, there are a few notes I would like to share with you:
- When I fell asleep, I slept like a baby. The problem? I didn’t hear my fucking alarm going off for a good 30 minutes because I was in a deep yoga trance. Thank God I showered last night, because I would’ve had to take a partial day just to get going this morning.
- As you know, for the record, I work out; I lift, do cardio, all that jazz, like four times a week! My shoulders are so achy and tired it’s starting to scare me. It feels like I carried around a baby elephant for 10 hours straight yesterday. I like that my body is exhausted, but I’m not sure how I’m going to make it through today. Lifting my arms to my keyboard is a workout in itself right now.
- Why the fuck do my legs hurt? My hamstrings are basically telling me to go fuck myself. I never have a problem with stairs (I mean, sometimes I get winded when going up a couple flights, but whatever), but walking out of the subway this morning I had to keep telling myself “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can” as if I were Thomas the fucking Tank Engine. Walking up the flight of stairs to my desk at work… don’t even get me started. I was considering giving up and walking back down the stairs, out of the building, back down into the subway and going home. Then I realized that if I did that, I’d still have to walk out of the Subway at the 46th Street stop. I CAN’T WIN.
- I do feel much more relaxed. BUT, I’m to the point where I’m writing this email and forcing myself to drink coffee because I might fall back into that coma mentioned in #1.
- I want to go again, but next week. My body needs to recover from whatever the fuck happened to me yesterday.