Yesterday I headed back into the yoga studio after six weeks away because of my wrist. If we’re being honest, spraining my wrist was the first injury I’ve ever had that really made me feel like I was never going to physically be the same, and that scared the daylights out of me. As the weeks went on and my wrist didn’t just snap back, I felt like maybe my age was showing and I should be more careful with myself.
Well, after a stressful week of work and life and dogsitting and 90 degree weather and too much on my plate, I felt my shoulders scrunching right up and I wasn’t sleeping, waking up with a racing mind and fretful heart. I knew it was time to get back. I was supposed to run for my half-training, but I knew I wasn’t going to push myself to run 5 miles in 90 degrees and full sun in the name of…what?
Wasn’t this half supposed to be something that I’m doing for the results, not the end? I’m in it to build strength, endurance, muscle, and clarity in my runs. Not to run a half marathon that’ll impress…who? Running is one of those things I wish I was better at, but often dread. I was sick of dreading my workouts.
So I went to the yoga studio down the street. And I flowed for an hour. And I bought a 30 day pass at a steal (the price of two classes, it’s already paid itself off) and I felt really, really, really happy. The way exercise is meant to make you feel, and if we’re being honest, everything. Isn’t it? Everything should make you happy. With the right beats, even cleaning is fun.
Speaking of which, yesterday I also spent a fair amount of time packing with the girls. (Thanks T, A, and M, you’re amazing.) We danced to Whitney (god bless) and we packed and moved boxes and took out the trash, and A patched the holes in my walls. M wrapped my valuables, and T dusted every frame that was on our walls (that’s a lot.) My heart was just so full.
We’re moving, in case you didn’t gather, or know, and it’s in a week, and Jeff’s been in the canyon since last Saturday, and yesterday was literally a perfect day of friends and love and happiness that made me feel really, really lucky to be who I am.
Today, I got up and went to yoga again and flowed, and I was careful with my still-a-little-achy wrist (backing off every vinyasa, not pushing myself to crow, still feeling sweaty and worked and stretched.) I got home and made blueberry scones. I am drinking iced coffee. Jeff is due back soon, and this day is perfect day number two. Correlation to yoga? Perhaps.
The heat’s going to break this week. I am praying and intention-ing that this is the last heat wave, and we can roll into 80s and then 70s and I can run and finish my half and do yoga and be happy, healthy, and full.
That’s where my head’s at this Sunday. Namaste, bitches. Hope you’re happy, healthy, full. xo
