![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
First yoga class in over a month. I expect to be suffering tomorrow.
New studio, of course. I'm used to doing Ashtanga, which involves a predetermined set of poses in a certain order, but of course this place (for which I have an Amazon coupon) only offers actual Ashtanga at the same time as my academic classes (and early Sunday morning, but... yeah, no). Instead I did something called Free Flow, which seems to be "whatever the teacher feels like doing at the time." There weren't too many poses that I didn't know, but doing them out of order was weird. Also, though I've gotten a bit more flexible, my balance is still as bad as ever -- maybe worse. I cannot do anything that involves standing on one leg. I just can't. I fall right the fuck over. I think it's an inner ear thing.
Anyway, my former teacher, Teresa, was the sweetest, spaciest woman you will ever meet... and she always talked the whole time. Mostly about yoga stuff, but sometimes about your inner fire burning away "toxins" and how 90% of all depression is caused by sugar and, you know, hippie shit. But it was soothing. Tonight, I found myself thinking why the hell is it so quiet in here? I'm so used to Teresa's running monologue that even short moments of silence are disconcerting. I miss her, even though she was always significantly, uh, huggier than I prefer to be when I have been sweating like a farm animal.
I'm also pulling a serious Sheldon Cooper, because even though I can go to yoga and then get tacos at the same taco franchise as before (which just happens to be right next door to the yoga studio, holy shit), I have to do it on Wednesday now. This is wrong. Yoga and Tacos are on Tuesday. Taco Tuesday is a thing. Except I now have Deviance class on Tuesday. What is this supposed to be, Waco Wednesday? That's how people get killed by the federal government in morally-questionable shootouts.
Unacceptable.
New studio, of course. I'm used to doing Ashtanga, which involves a predetermined set of poses in a certain order, but of course this place (for which I have an Amazon coupon) only offers actual Ashtanga at the same time as my academic classes (and early Sunday morning, but... yeah, no). Instead I did something called Free Flow, which seems to be "whatever the teacher feels like doing at the time." There weren't too many poses that I didn't know, but doing them out of order was weird. Also, though I've gotten a bit more flexible, my balance is still as bad as ever -- maybe worse. I cannot do anything that involves standing on one leg. I just can't. I fall right the fuck over. I think it's an inner ear thing.
Anyway, my former teacher, Teresa, was the sweetest, spaciest woman you will ever meet... and she always talked the whole time. Mostly about yoga stuff, but sometimes about your inner fire burning away "toxins" and how 90% of all depression is caused by sugar and, you know, hippie shit. But it was soothing. Tonight, I found myself thinking why the hell is it so quiet in here? I'm so used to Teresa's running monologue that even short moments of silence are disconcerting. I miss her, even though she was always significantly, uh, huggier than I prefer to be when I have been sweating like a farm animal.
I'm also pulling a serious Sheldon Cooper, because even though I can go to yoga and then get tacos at the same taco franchise as before (which just happens to be right next door to the yoga studio, holy shit), I have to do it on Wednesday now. This is wrong. Yoga and Tacos are on Tuesday. Taco Tuesday is a thing. Except I now have Deviance class on Tuesday. What is this supposed to be, Waco Wednesday? That's how people get killed by the federal government in morally-questionable shootouts.
Unacceptable.
