Namaste, Part Deux

The idea was to try another Bikram class at 8 a.m.  Mary even agreed to try it again after we consulted the online schedule and it showed there was a different teacher for the 8 a.m. Sunday class.  I picked her up a few minutes late this morning; she admitted she didn't want to call me to find out where I was in case I had overslept accidentally.  We got there and were really hoping that it was not another "mat to mat" situation --- not good for those of us who aren't Bikram experts or as flexible as others.  You can imagine our surprise to: (1) find there was quite a crowd for an 8 a.m. Sunday class; and (2) it was the same instructor from the other night (i.e. Nazi instructor) who was checking people in.  When she started arguing with Mary and I we walked out; dealing with the Nazi instructor and another "mat to mat" situation at 8 a.m. on a Sunday just wasn't worth it. 

We grabbed some oatmeal and I dropped Mary off at home.  I went home, grabbed my briefcase, and the idea was to go into work.  I knew there was a 10 a.m. class and I had really been looking forward to sweating and getting toxins out of my system.  I started driving to the office and found myself turning the car around, back toward the yoga studio.  I figured I had paid for the 30 day pass and knew it was a different instructor.  I got there and saw my friend Jessica sitting outside.  As I was driving away from the 8 a.m. class I saw her walking in.  She asked why I had left the previous class and I explained --- she (and her friend) agreed and said they were surprised the "Nazi instructor" was teaching the 8 a.m. class. 

The 10 a.m. instructor was AMAZING.  Bonus was the class wasn't "mat to mat".  The teacher was calm and explained everything in a way the previous instructor hadn't.  Even her voice was calm, her mannerisms were more calm.  She was complimentary when people tried, even if they couldn't completely grasp the pose.  Bottom line is that I loved the class.  I sweat profusely, toxins got out of my system, and I felt good about myself.  I am definitely going to go back this week for a class or two.  Sunday is the "day off" once the half marathon training starts up again.  I think my "day off" is going to involve Bikram yoga because it will force me to stretch, relax, and focus.

During the last 2-3 months I have really been trying to differentiate my time at work versus my time at home.  I was told that I needed to do so for my mental health because it wasn't healthy for me to be thinking about work all of the time.  I am getting much better at managing my stress, but I also have a ways to go.  This weekend I tried something completely different.  I went into the office on Saturday morning, but I left the office at around noon and haven't checked my email for the rest of the weekend.  It has been challenging not having that connection, but at the same time it has allowed me to relax a bit more and spend some "me time".  I did do a little bit of work today, but I was able to do it without my email.  My two yoga classes this past week have really helped --- even though I've only taken two of these classes.  Part of the class involved breathing exercises and focusing on breathing.  Additionally, you have to really focus on each pose --- REALLY FOCUS ON THE POSE --- instead of anything else while you are in it or you won't be able to get the pose right.  It felt good this weekend to focus on me and do things for me.  Hopefully it will make me better at work this week.

Bikram today came on the heels of an absolutely amazing workout yesterday.  Liberdy is out of New Orleans until August 10 and before she left she threw down the gauntlet.  Liberdy knows that what motivates me more than anything is a challenge and it is working.  I started keeping both a food journal and an exercise journal.  The food journal has been really educational.  I wasn't eating badly before, but I also wasn't being as conscious of everything because I would use the reasoning that, "I am exercising a ton."  I wasn't eating crap and I knew basic caloric contents, etc.  But I was eating a lot of protein bars.  I wasn't getting nearly enough protein --- good proteins.  I was taking in far too many carbs, and I was getting the carbs in ways most people wouldn't think.  I was keeping to my calorie count, but that isn't all that matters.  Fruit has a ton of sugar in it and a ton of carbs.  It obviously isn't the same as eating chocolate, but it was my crutch and it can't be.  I need to eat more frequently throughout the day.  I literally need to put a post-it note on my computer so that I remind myself to do so.  Things get busy, I get bogged down, and I forget to eat.  Its not intentional, but it is screwing with my metabolism.

In terms of my workouts, I am keeping track of what I do each day as well as how many calories I am burning (based on what my Garmin or the machines are telling me).  I am recording my core workout and my strength training and PT, but I don't really have a way to count the calories on those things. 

I have to give a huge shout out tonight to my cousin Samantha.  She got married tonight in Denver and I am feeling completely guilty for not being there.  Samantha and I grew up together, in a sense.  During law school I would "babysit" for her while her parents were out of town --- which was a few times a month based on their work.  She was in high school at the time.  As she got older she would come and stay with me when she went to college and then after she finished college.  She has visited me in New Orleans and I have seen her in New York.  She is one of the people that really got me motivated to run.  She has run marathons, half marathons, and is an amazing athlete.  I wish Samantha and Russel nothing but a life full of mazel --- and, of course, many runs to come.

One month to go until Liberdy gets back to New Orleans.  I am a third of the way there and I think I can win this challenge.

Namaste

I went to Bikram Yoga (i.e. hot yoga) last night.  It had been two years since my last Bikram experience.  My last Bikram experience wasn't very pleasant.  I had quite a bit to drink the night before as I was at a conference with my friends.  Why we thought an 8 a.m. Bikram class would be wise after a night of heavy drinking I will never know, especially in light of the fact that none of us were regular Bikram students.  It was Florida in August so by 8 a.m. it was likely 90 degrees an humid.  The Bikram room was 108, but at least it wasn't humid.

The teacher was a bit of a Nazi --- as a Jew I don't use that word lightly.  My friends and I fought off dizziness, vomiting, etc.  The teacher barked orders at us and scolded us when we had to lay silently on our respective mats to fight the urge to run out of the room and vomit (as that wasn't allowed).  We somehow made it through 90 minutes, thinking that at least we were able to sweat out some of the alcohol from the night before.  I puked at the end of the class.  We drove back to the resort and jumped into the pool in our yoga clothes.

I decided it would be a good idea to revisit Bikram after speaking with my PT.  It would allow me to sweat.  I am strange in that I really like to sweat when I am exercising because it makes me feel as if I am accomplishing something.  It would also allow me to stretch in an environment where my muscles were warm and the stretches could be productive.  I called my friend en route to the class, one of the women who shared the Bikram experience with me two years ago.  We chuckled about it.  A few minutes later she called me back and said that she was going to take a class last night as well --- too bad she was in St. Louis and I was in New Orleans.

My friend Mary agreed to try to the class with me.  We showed up armed with yoga mats, towels, and water.  We had signed up ahead of time on the internet because we were told the classes filled up quickly and had limited space.  The class was so crowded that we had to put the mats right next to one another -- literally.  How they fit 39 people into that tiny room will forever be a mystery to me. It certainly took away from the class, though, which disappointed me.  There wasn't sufficient room to stretch.  You were constantly getting hit by someones hand or foot.  It was somewhat uncomfortable having to lie so close to someone I had never met.  But, despite all of that, I still liked it.  I didn't like it enough to go to a class that is that crowded again, but will try the class again at 8 a.m. on Sunday.

I liked that I sweat.  Specifically, I was dripping wet at the end of the class.  I walked out of the yoga studio and the air felt cool.  How often can you say that about the air in New Orleans in July?  I felt more cleansed after the class.  I slept more soundly last night.  My skin looked a little more clear today.

I read "Mile Markers" by Kristin Armstrong over the weekend.  I loved the book because while it was about running, it was also about life.  Armstrong cross-trains with yoga.  In the book she described the impact that yoga classes have had on her life, her running, and why she believes in them.  The yoga classes have forced her to deal with bring uncomfortable and with doing things that she didn't think that she was capable of. 

Last night I was in the back row of the class.  I certainly wasn't the most flexible person in the room, but I was OK with that.  I didn't go into the class expecting to be the most flexible person.  I pushed myself to where I could and was content with that level.  I didn't do anything to hurt myself or set back my recovery.  I sweat, more than I would have at the gym, and felt like I had accomplished something as a result.  And, in the end, while I was upset with the number of people in the room, I got over it and went home feeling more relaxed and able to deal with life.  The verdict is still out on whether it will help my running or whether after trying Bikram again on Sunday it will be something that I do again, but it felt good to challenge myself.

Sometimes You Can Go Home.......

I went "home" for the 4th of July weekend.  In my wildest dreams I never imagined the weekend would be as incredible as it was.  There wasn't anything in particular that made the weekend so special.  Looking back, though, I realize that what made it special was a combination of both looking back on incredible memories and creating new ones with the people who are most important to me --- the people that have known me the longest and have seen both the good and the bad in me.

I completed a 5k on July 4th.  Don't misunderstand me --- my college roommate and I were literally the last two people to finish.  The thing is, though, I was able to do it 4 weeks post surgery.  I was able to be comfortable doing it knowing that I would likely be last and that would be the best I could do that day (as running wasn't really an option).  I was able to be happy being outside, being with friends and family, and finishing my daily exercise before 9 a.m.  I was able to be satisfied knowing that I was on my way back to being able to run in the way that I wanted to.  I was able to smile thinking back to college and asking my college roommate if she ever envisioned that we would enter, much less finish, a 5k together.  I loved that a group of us were out there together on July 4th, exercising together, and even though my father wasn't able to do the fun walk because of recent surgery, he was out there with us and a part of it.



My cousin, my college roommate, and me at the 5k on July 4.  Very different than we were as students in Madison.



My brother is the only boy in the family.  He is 6 years younger than me so I have, admittedly, "mothered" him more than I should.  I know it annoys the hell out of him, but sometimes I just can't help myself because even though he towers over me and turned 30 this past weekend, he will always be my "little" brother.  Sometimes we fight because we don't see things eye to eye.  We are both hard headed (when it comes to certain things) and we don't want to give in.  This weekend I really tried to see him as an adult instead of my "little" brother.  I met some of his friends.  Spent time getting to know (really know) his fiance.  I did the things that he wanted to do instead of insisting that he do the things that I wanted to do.  It was special that some of the people that HE wanted sitting around the table for his 30th birthday dinner were my best friends; he wanted them there because he loves them, independently from my relationship with them, and considers them important in his life. 



My brother, my sister, and me at his 30th birthday dinner.




My sister, soon to be sister-in law, brother, and me at his 30th birthday dinner.



We have been friends for over 20 years.  Love that my brother considers them his good friends as well.



My brother is truly a mensch. He isn't infallible; no one is.  He has chosen a path in life that doesn't involve an office or putting on a suit and tie every day --- a path that makes him happy (but isn't so "normal" when you grow up in the North Shore of Milwaukee).   The thing that I truly realized about my brother is that he does the right thing without debating whether he should.  He would give you the shirt off of his back (generally some type of vintage t-shirt) if you needed it.  He has gotten the short end of the stick in many situations, but he doesn't dwell on it or let it affect him on a daily basis.  It is for these things that I can't be really upset with him if he wears a pattern t-shirt (that shows through) under a white polo shirt or white collared shirt or if he wants to wear Rod Laver Adidas sneakers with the tuxedo at his wedding. 

I have done a lot of things in the last 30 years to piss off my brother.  Some of the things were legitimate and others weren't.  Even when my brother was most mad at me, though, he has stood by me in relation to pursuing things like running.  I've caught a lot of grief lately (admittedly, deserved) for being so hard headed that I ended up needing surgery.  My brother didn't give me grief about it.  Instead, he seemed to understand where I was coming from --- that running the half marathon was something that I needed to prove to myself.  He understood why I'm pushing myself in PT and why I can't wait to really run again.

I brought Atticus Circle (www.atticuscircle.org) t-shirts to Milwaukee for everyone in my family.  My brother is known for always having creative t-shirts.  He loved the Atticus Circle t-shirt.  He wore it out to the 4th of July fireworks. 

My brother doesn't get involved in politics.  He doesn't get involved in controversy.  We have never had an in depth discussion about civil rights, religion, or anything broaching a similar topic.  I had a sense of what he believed, but didn't know for sure.  I was so proud of him when he told me the story of one of his friend's reactions to his Atticus Circle t-shirt.  I wasn't there, but it went something like this:

Friend, looking a bit puzzled: "Nice t-shirt."

Brother, with a smirk on his face: "Thanks."

Friend, fumbling a bit: "Are you gay?"

Brother, with smirk on his face that is more like a shit eating grin: "No, why would you ask that?"

Friend: "People are going to think you are gay if you wear that t-shirt."

Brother: "Wearing this t-shirt means I'm gay?"

Friend: "They are going to think you are gay."

Brother: "It says 'gay? fine by me.'  It is fine by me.  Makes you think, doesn't it."

My brother telling me this reminded me of something Scout Finch said in To Kill a Mockingbird.  (Atticus Circle is named for Atticus Finch in To Kill a Mockingbird.  Scout, who is roughly 8 years old in the book, said, "I think there's just one kind of folks.  Folks."  Seeing my "little" brother as an adult, a man who stands up for what he believes in even though it may be controversial, was a part of creating new memories.  It was a part of what made my weekend so special.