The day started out great. My sister made us roasted potatoes, eggs benedict and mimosas. She is a great cook, uses mostly fresh organic ingredients and makes everything as healthfully as she can. Then the cousins wore each other out for a couple of hours before I headed out to the airport.
This is when the fun started. Sean and I got to the airport with the four bags I packed for the two of us for our three day adventure to Dayton. I packed six shirts and seven pairs of pants for sean, which might have been necessary if we were going somewhere with no laundry facilities AND if Sean hadn't insisted on wearing the same baseball shirt the entire time. Amazingly, I still forgot things, such as my glasses, which for an almost blind person are a necessity.
I had the four bags and a worn out 3 year old that refused to walk anywhere. So, I did the best thing in that situation. I ran my bags into the airport, left them unattended and then ran back to the car to grab the almost sleeping preschooler from my sister. The airport staff was not particularly thrilled with my complete ignorance of the "Absolutely no unattended baggage ever, no we are serious, rule." But they let me pass.
Sean chose the security line as the best place to have a temper tantrum. His tantrum was justified. He was thirsty and they had water at the store before the security line. He could not understand why we had to take off his shoes, force his toys all onto long belt and walk through a metal detector just so that he could get a glass of water. Hell, it does sound rather ridiculous to make someone wait to buy water until the other side of the security checkpoint. As we age and mature, we learn to say rude things to the security guards under our breath instead of being held kicking and screaming through the line as our shoes are pried off our feet.
Next up: the dramamine overdose scare. We got water in the shop post security and I got sean calmed down. I bribed him with a mickey mouse activity book (as I have been told by many people before, the plane is a good time to keep your kid quiet, it is not a time to employ good parenting techniques). We went to the local, random american food restaurant chain and had chicken nuggets and chips. While there, I proceeded to split Sean's dramamine pill in half and gave him the proper dose for a three year old, one half pill). Unfortunately, the other half fell on the floor and I gave up looking for it after about thirty seconds.
The dramamine is important for Sean, he has an actual diagnosed vomiting disorder AND he regularly gets motion sick. I have only been on very few trips with Sean that did not involve at least one change of clothes and a spray bottle of Febreeze. But now that he is old enough for dramamine, we give it to him, he eats it, and we do not see random american restaurant food on the seat of the plane.
As we left the restaurant, Sean casually said, mommy, I am taking the other half of my medicine, you forgot to give it to me. The poison control, emergency room and missed flight issues all rushed through my head as I used my mom super powers to quickly remove the half-pill from his mouth before he swallowed it.
Then we got to Dallas-Fort Worth Airport, the most evil airport in the world. The first thing out of Sean's mouth was the phrase, "I am hungry and tired", okay cool, I have got this under control, we will get our seat assignments, grab a snack and then he can sit in my lap and sleep on the plane (Did I mention that I took Sean, my three year-old on a red eye from Dallas to Seattle? Oops....)
I went to the evil seat assignment minion and kindly asked for a window seat for my child. I explained that my child tends to throw up and that, as his mom, I was pretty sure that he would not behave well in the aisle (I envision Sean, my active little guy, continually taking his sitting belt off and running up and down the plane. I know my son.) She said, in that take back to the SNL sketch of the late 90's way, "I'll see what we can do, it will be hard enough to just get you seated together." Sean was tugging at my pant leg at the time, so I did not have time to compute her phrase, more on this later....
We went to dinner. I had a pint of beer. I needed it. Then Sean proceeded to fall asleep on the nasty floor of the Dallas-Fort Worth Airport. Okay, he wasn't sleeping, it was more like shutting his eyes and then whimpering that it was too loud and too bright and that he was "tired".
The seat minion then called me up to the counter to explain the good news, she got us seats in the aisle and center on the plane. I asked if there was any way she could request someone to move out of the window, and she said the following choice phrase "You are lucky you even got seats together. People had to voluntarily move to accommodate you having seats together." At which point, I flew off the handle (well, Elissa style, so no real flying, but my voice was slightly raised.) I said, "you had to put me in the same row as my three year-old"and gave her a dirty look.
Later on, when sean was lying with his seat belt on, sleeping, in the window seat (the kind lady next to us actually volunteered it without prompting), I had to laugh about the evil seat assignment minion. I spent a great deal of time thinking of scenarios where my single and/or childless by choice friends would randomly end up seated next to some other person's three year-old. And when asked where his mother was, the preschooler would say, "the seat assignment lady said there was no way for us to sit in the same row". I am sure many of us parents would long for this forced plane babysitting, but I bet that seat assignment lady would have found us seats together instantly when the involuntary babysitter made a complaint. :)
For his part, Sean did not throw up, he slept the whole way back on the plane and was very cuddly as he slept....
Monday, May 30, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Ode to my treadmill
I knew when I saw the envelope at the bottom of my staircase that the news was not going to be good. The note was nice enough, with phrases like, "I tried to deal with the treadmill, but it shakes and vibrates my entire apartment", "I support your desire to stay in shape/lose weight, but it just doesn't work in this house." , "The sound is actually going to make me go crazy". It wasn't out of the blue, my neighbor had never said anything, but it takes a strong dose of denial to think that running on a 200-pound treadmill in the upstairs of a house built in 1908 would work out long term. Every time I stepped on it, I tried different walking stances to make the sound in MY upstairs part of the house less intense. But deep down, I knew it just wasn't going to work...and the letter sealed the deal.
And there was the issue with constantly worrying that my energy sucking treadmill would start some kind of fire in my circa 1908 ungrounded outlets. And so, as with many of the loves in my life, my relationship with the treadmill was intense, beautiful and short on realism/long term possibility.(See Dance Dance Revolution, my bike wind trainer that threw out my back, the ab roller, the eight sets of hand weights, etc....). So, here is my ode/dear john letter to the treadmill.....sniff, sniff....
I met you on a rainy day in November. You came in a box and took several hours to put together. But you were perfect in every way. You had an Ipod dock and speakers that played any variety of music that I desired. I could climb hills to Jay-Z and then jog it out with Emmy Lou and Roger Miller. You always loved my taste in music and never said anything when I put on a bad one-hit wonders from the late eighties(You even let me play Cococabana, Love is a Battlefield and Make Me Lose Control over and over again).
You were there when my son was sick and napping upstairs and I couldn't leave the house. I could run for an hour or two while he slept on the couch and come back to vomit duty stress free and healthy. You let me work out the, "why the heck do live in a city where it rains more than half the year blues" and allowed me the chance to train for the Seattle Marathon even when it was getting dark at four PM.
You allowed me to avoid the 100 pound girls in the tiny sports bras at the gym. You let me avoid the guys who wear awful tank tops and lift heavy weights just to impress those 100 pound girls. You gave me the courage to wear polka-dotted sweatpants and a neon green top while working out.
There were problems, of course. Occassionally, my son would walk in on us when "Big Pimpin'" or "Party Up" was blasting on the speaker system. That was just awkward and involved very quick manevuers with the volume control that I do not want to ever have to repeat. You came with an intermediate and advanced workout series with Jillian Michaels. The workouts came on SD Cards and we both know that I occassionally pulled them out and threw them on the floor mid workout (because Jillian Michaels is MEAN and her workouts are too difficult).
But those issues did not change the fact that you were, and still are a brilliant workout machine....And now it is time for me to give you to another person who will hopefully give you the love and attention you deserve.
I am moving on to a gym with a kids club where my son can hang out. I realise that I will just have to forgo workouts on days that my son is sick. I realize I am going to have to wear normal workout clothes and god forbid, use headphones.
But we both knew this would happen sometime...it is time to say goodbye.....it isn't you, it is me....I need my neighbors to not call the police with noise complaints....I need my son to have a fun place to play while I am working out that doesn't cause me to worry that he reaking havoc somewhere else in the house....and I need the additional things that a gym can provide that you can't (sorry dear, but there aren't any treadmill based yoga classes or weight machines.)
We will always have the basement guest room....
And there was the issue with constantly worrying that my energy sucking treadmill would start some kind of fire in my circa 1908 ungrounded outlets. And so, as with many of the loves in my life, my relationship with the treadmill was intense, beautiful and short on realism/long term possibility.(See Dance Dance Revolution, my bike wind trainer that threw out my back, the ab roller, the eight sets of hand weights, etc....). So, here is my ode/dear john letter to the treadmill.....sniff, sniff....
I met you on a rainy day in November. You came in a box and took several hours to put together. But you were perfect in every way. You had an Ipod dock and speakers that played any variety of music that I desired. I could climb hills to Jay-Z and then jog it out with Emmy Lou and Roger Miller. You always loved my taste in music and never said anything when I put on a bad one-hit wonders from the late eighties(You even let me play Cococabana, Love is a Battlefield and Make Me Lose Control over and over again).
You were there when my son was sick and napping upstairs and I couldn't leave the house. I could run for an hour or two while he slept on the couch and come back to vomit duty stress free and healthy. You let me work out the, "why the heck do live in a city where it rains more than half the year blues" and allowed me the chance to train for the Seattle Marathon even when it was getting dark at four PM.
You allowed me to avoid the 100 pound girls in the tiny sports bras at the gym. You let me avoid the guys who wear awful tank tops and lift heavy weights just to impress those 100 pound girls. You gave me the courage to wear polka-dotted sweatpants and a neon green top while working out.
There were problems, of course. Occassionally, my son would walk in on us when "Big Pimpin'" or "Party Up" was blasting on the speaker system. That was just awkward and involved very quick manevuers with the volume control that I do not want to ever have to repeat. You came with an intermediate and advanced workout series with Jillian Michaels. The workouts came on SD Cards and we both know that I occassionally pulled them out and threw them on the floor mid workout (because Jillian Michaels is MEAN and her workouts are too difficult).
I am moving on to a gym with a kids club where my son can hang out. I realise that I will just have to forgo workouts on days that my son is sick. I realize I am going to have to wear normal workout clothes and god forbid, use headphones.
But we both knew this would happen sometime...it is time to say goodbye.....it isn't you, it is me....I need my neighbors to not call the police with noise complaints....I need my son to have a fun place to play while I am working out that doesn't cause me to worry that he reaking havoc somewhere else in the house....and I need the additional things that a gym can provide that you can't (sorry dear, but there aren't any treadmill based yoga classes or weight machines.)
We will always have the basement guest room....
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Redlissa's World: Parts of the Redlissa diet plan (for dieters and t...
Redlissa's World: Parts of the Redlissa diet plan (for dieters and t...: "So, I now qualify for the National Weight Control registry (keeping more than 30 pounds off for more than a year). Apparently, this gives ..."
Monday, May 9, 2011
Good yoga instructors and Beginner Syndrome
I officially admit that I have hit the stage in my yoga practice where I have Beginner Syndrome. For those of you who have never experienced this phenomenon, let me explain. Beginner syndrome (BS) occurs when you are still really pretty new to something, but have decided that you know what you are doing. In the case of computers, the guy who learns how to make tons of advanced changes to the settings on their computer, and then proceeds to make those changes on your computer, which subsequently results in a dark purple screen with everything written in Chinese, has BS.
The second year law student who gives bad legal advice to their friends and family because they somehow think the first year course have taught them anything about real world legal problems has BS. Any person who has experience babysitting and decides to use this knowledge to give parenting advice to people with children has BS.
In my case, the BS was subtle. Although many people have practiced yoga for years, I had decided that I was some kind of advanced pose practitioner ( I have never claimed to have the yogi mind thing down). after 10 months of diligent practice. I mean, I had taken a 4 week introductory class AND I can do a damned headstand.
In my state of BS, I decided that I could walk into any studio and utilize my vast yogic knowledge about form and that it didn't matter who was teaching me. So, I switched from my studio with a good reputation for experienced teachers, to the crowded studio with no adjustments and very little instruction. I went for a few weeks, priding in my ability to look like a ballerina in dancer pose, my ability to look like a semi pro break dancer in side crow, not noticing that because I was not really paying attention to my breath or my posture, my deltoids and lower back were gradually weakening. And then there was the day my BS symptoms got so bad that I thought I could go to two back to back classes.
That was the day my back went out. And, after going back to my studio tonight, I also realized that I have a deltoid injury as a result of the BS.
This brings me to the important part: GOOD YOGA INSTRUCTION IS VITAL to healthy practice and let me guide you through a badly taught class and my awesome class tonight to illustrate why. (As an aside, I have worn HR monitors to both classes once and I burned 700 calories in each class, so it wasn't as if I got some extra calorie burning love in the poorly taught class.
In my class tonight, we went back to mountain pose(basically standing up straight) three times and spent several breaths there working on our posture. The instructor, who has several years of experience, said things like, make sure your shoulder blades come together in the pose, spread your feet out wide, he came around to check our breathing and adjusted everyone at least once. During my 5 classes at the other studio with various teachers, I got exactly one comment about how I was doing a pose and I never was moved or adjusted.
In my class tonight, the instructor saw that I had to modify a pose (due to my deltoid issue) and came around and helped me do the modification correctly. In my other class, the instructor would briefly mention that modifications existed but would only demonstrate the most advanced form of the pose she could think of. That only encourages those of us with BS to attempt poses that our bodies do not want to do.
My class tonight was an intermediate level class (meaning that I was the most beginning student there), but the instructor spent a lot of time focusing on the basics that people with BS tend to forget. He spent time telling us how to protect our backs and explaining how to move from one pose to the next. The other instructor just called out the poses and checked several times to see how she was doing on time.
I will admit two things, I would not be 1/10th as good at leading a class as the inexperienced instructor from the studio that caused my injury. And I am sure that there are people, not me, that have enough experience that they can just go to a class and they know how to put there bodies into the right position. However, beginners and people with BS are not those students. We need guidance, adjustments and instruction to get us through class healthier than when we started.
So, getting over my BS, I officially readmit that I am still very new to yoga and I am no longer going to accept instructors and classes that do not provide guidance and assistance to people who think that they know what they are doing, but who actually don't.
The second year law student who gives bad legal advice to their friends and family because they somehow think the first year course have taught them anything about real world legal problems has BS. Any person who has experience babysitting and decides to use this knowledge to give parenting advice to people with children has BS.
 |
| Side Crow |
In my case, the BS was subtle. Although many people have practiced yoga for years, I had decided that I was some kind of advanced pose practitioner ( I have never claimed to have the yogi mind thing down). after 10 months of diligent practice. I mean, I had taken a 4 week introductory class AND I can do a damned headstand.
In my state of BS, I decided that I could walk into any studio and utilize my vast yogic knowledge about form and that it didn't matter who was teaching me. So, I switched from my studio with a good reputation for experienced teachers, to the crowded studio with no adjustments and very little instruction. I went for a few weeks, priding in my ability to look like a ballerina in dancer pose, my ability to look like a semi pro break dancer in side crow, not noticing that because I was not really paying attention to my breath or my posture, my deltoids and lower back were gradually weakening. And then there was the day my BS symptoms got so bad that I thought I could go to two back to back classes.
That was the day my back went out. And, after going back to my studio tonight, I also realized that I have a deltoid injury as a result of the BS.
This brings me to the important part: GOOD YOGA INSTRUCTION IS VITAL to healthy practice and let me guide you through a badly taught class and my awesome class tonight to illustrate why. (As an aside, I have worn HR monitors to both classes once and I burned 700 calories in each class, so it wasn't as if I got some extra calorie burning love in the poorly taught class.
In my class tonight, we went back to mountain pose(basically standing up straight) three times and spent several breaths there working on our posture. The instructor, who has several years of experience, said things like, make sure your shoulder blades come together in the pose, spread your feet out wide, he came around to check our breathing and adjusted everyone at least once. During my 5 classes at the other studio with various teachers, I got exactly one comment about how I was doing a pose and I never was moved or adjusted.
In my class tonight, the instructor saw that I had to modify a pose (due to my deltoid issue) and came around and helped me do the modification correctly. In my other class, the instructor would briefly mention that modifications existed but would only demonstrate the most advanced form of the pose she could think of. That only encourages those of us with BS to attempt poses that our bodies do not want to do.
My class tonight was an intermediate level class (meaning that I was the most beginning student there), but the instructor spent a lot of time focusing on the basics that people with BS tend to forget. He spent time telling us how to protect our backs and explaining how to move from one pose to the next. The other instructor just called out the poses and checked several times to see how she was doing on time.
 |
| Regular crow (I see at least 5 things I am not doing correctly, can you spot them? :) ) |
I will admit two things, I would not be 1/10th as good at leading a class as the inexperienced instructor from the studio that caused my injury. And I am sure that there are people, not me, that have enough experience that they can just go to a class and they know how to put there bodies into the right position. However, beginners and people with BS are not those students. We need guidance, adjustments and instruction to get us through class healthier than when we started.
So, getting over my BS, I officially readmit that I am still very new to yoga and I am no longer going to accept instructors and classes that do not provide guidance and assistance to people who think that they know what they are doing, but who actually don't.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Parts of the Redlissa diet plan (for dieters and their friends and family)
So, I now qualify for the National Weight Control registry (keeping more than 30 pounds off for more than a year). Apparently, this gives me the authority to pontificate about how people can lose weight
Before I go to my advice, my stats:
I have lost almost 70 pounds of non-preggo related weight and I have kept 60 of it off since January of 2010. It took me a full 3 years to lose it and I don't have any plans to actually join the weight-loss registry.
So, here it goes, in somewhat random order:
1) Don't tell any woman you love that you think they are fat. EVER. Even if they are family, even if they are at risk for dire health consequences. The problem is that our society has all this crap with beauty and weight and self-esteem. Only rarely did someone point out my BMI to me when I was overweight, and all it did was make me reach for the cookie jar. Leave the BMI quotations up to the medical professionals. I lost weight when it was time for me to lose weight. Other people's opinions didn't make much difference.
2) If you are really concerned about the health risks of your friend/lover/wife/mother/sister's weight, make them feel good about themselves with flowers, chocolates, tickets to the football game, whatever makes them happy. Even if they don't lose weight, they will appreciate that you actually care about them.
3) For the weight-losing folk out there, buy cute clothes. I have no sense of fashion so I do not know what these clothes look like. However, I know that attractive, well fitted clothes come in all sizes for men and women and some of the most attractive people I know are overweight, happy and well-dressed.
4) Eat lots of those multi-colored things that come out of the ground or grow on trees. They fill you up, they make you regular and they have vitamins. Whenever I stop eating them, I gain weight, whenever I start eating them again I lose weight.
5) Drink the clear stuff that comes out of the tap. I do not do this and as a result, my weight fluctuates 3-4 pounds every day depending on how dehydrated I am. I am trying to drink water I swear, it will happen eventually.
6) Any movement is awesome, but don't kid yourself into thinking that taking the stair up to the second floor of your office building made up for the Big Mac you had at lunch.
7) It is amazing how much crud we can stuff into our stomachs without knowing it, so I keep a diary (like most of the National Weight-Loss Registry folk) of everything that goes in my mouth. Sometimes the diary says 4000 calories, sometimes it says 1500 calories, but I am a firm believer that I would have had 7,000 on the 4000 day and 3000 on the 1500 day, without tracking.
8) If it takes more than three normal bites to finish the cake, cookie or pastry, it is more than 300 calories.(this rule only goes for tasty pastries, there are some diet pastry-like items that have fewer calories, which gets me to my next point)
9) Never feel like crap about gaining a couple of pounds or eating something horrible for you(as long as it tasted GOOD). I have found that feeling like crap generally just leads to eating crap (This is the corollary to "you are what you eat")
10) It is perfectly acceptable to gain a few pounds during an overseas trip, a vegas weekend, finals, while studying for the bar exam.....etc..... If you are doing something super cool, forget about your weight and have fun. If you are doing something super stressful, worry about the stressful activity, not your weight. (And if people comment about the weight gain....just make an off hand comment about their ugliest feature. e.g, "I know, I totally need to lose a couple of pounds. Maybe we could make a pact and I could lose the weight while you look into plastic surgery for your crook nose")
11) Finally, the most important tip is the Ryan diet plan. It is simple, effective and almost impossible for most of us to follow: "Eat less, move more" Until the people who decide these things come up with a magical way to lose weight that does not involve eating less than your body burns, the 2/3 of the american population that is overweight or obese should probably take that phrase to heart.
12) As was noted in an earlier post, or a few earlier posts, I do not eat well. I move more than I take in, but I still have a long, long way to go before I could claim that I eat well. Food and movement are two of the main activities in our lives and we need to think about them in terms of more than what will lead to the best looking abs or what will provide the greatest satisfaction.
Before I go to my advice, my stats:
I have lost almost 70 pounds of non-preggo related weight and I have kept 60 of it off since January of 2010. It took me a full 3 years to lose it and I don't have any plans to actually join the weight-loss registry.
So, here it goes, in somewhat random order:
1) Don't tell any woman you love that you think they are fat. EVER. Even if they are family, even if they are at risk for dire health consequences. The problem is that our society has all this crap with beauty and weight and self-esteem. Only rarely did someone point out my BMI to me when I was overweight, and all it did was make me reach for the cookie jar. Leave the BMI quotations up to the medical professionals. I lost weight when it was time for me to lose weight. Other people's opinions didn't make much difference.
2) If you are really concerned about the health risks of your friend/lover/wife/mother/sister's weight, make them feel good about themselves with flowers, chocolates, tickets to the football game, whatever makes them happy. Even if they don't lose weight, they will appreciate that you actually care about them.
3) For the weight-losing folk out there, buy cute clothes. I have no sense of fashion so I do not know what these clothes look like. However, I know that attractive, well fitted clothes come in all sizes for men and women and some of the most attractive people I know are overweight, happy and well-dressed.
4) Eat lots of those multi-colored things that come out of the ground or grow on trees. They fill you up, they make you regular and they have vitamins. Whenever I stop eating them, I gain weight, whenever I start eating them again I lose weight.
5) Drink the clear stuff that comes out of the tap. I do not do this and as a result, my weight fluctuates 3-4 pounds every day depending on how dehydrated I am. I am trying to drink water I swear, it will happen eventually.
6) Any movement is awesome, but don't kid yourself into thinking that taking the stair up to the second floor of your office building made up for the Big Mac you had at lunch.
7) It is amazing how much crud we can stuff into our stomachs without knowing it, so I keep a diary (like most of the National Weight-Loss Registry folk) of everything that goes in my mouth. Sometimes the diary says 4000 calories, sometimes it says 1500 calories, but I am a firm believer that I would have had 7,000 on the 4000 day and 3000 on the 1500 day, without tracking.
8) If it takes more than three normal bites to finish the cake, cookie or pastry, it is more than 300 calories.(this rule only goes for tasty pastries, there are some diet pastry-like items that have fewer calories, which gets me to my next point)
9) Never feel like crap about gaining a couple of pounds or eating something horrible for you(as long as it tasted GOOD). I have found that feeling like crap generally just leads to eating crap (This is the corollary to "you are what you eat")
10) It is perfectly acceptable to gain a few pounds during an overseas trip, a vegas weekend, finals, while studying for the bar exam.....etc..... If you are doing something super cool, forget about your weight and have fun. If you are doing something super stressful, worry about the stressful activity, not your weight. (And if people comment about the weight gain....just make an off hand comment about their ugliest feature. e.g, "I know, I totally need to lose a couple of pounds. Maybe we could make a pact and I could lose the weight while you look into plastic surgery for your crook nose")
11) Finally, the most important tip is the Ryan diet plan. It is simple, effective and almost impossible for most of us to follow: "Eat less, move more" Until the people who decide these things come up with a magical way to lose weight that does not involve eating less than your body burns, the 2/3 of the american population that is overweight or obese should probably take that phrase to heart.
12) As was noted in an earlier post, or a few earlier posts, I do not eat well. I move more than I take in, but I still have a long, long way to go before I could claim that I eat well. Food and movement are two of the main activities in our lives and we need to think about them in terms of more than what will lead to the best looking abs or what will provide the greatest satisfaction.
Yoga Injury
I had a "brilliant" idea on Friday. I decided that I was going to go to two yoga classes in a row. I thought this would be a great way to test my limits and learn something new about myself. What I learned: It is stupid to go to two hot yoga classes in a row.
I started at hot hatha, which is basically a class where one holds several poses for long periods of time to work on strength and focus. I was rocking it in the first class. My leg went over the back of the head while I did the dancer pose. I was able to do a few poses where I was balancing on one leg and I was in head stand for a significant period of time. I looked at the back mirror while doing a backbend. I was feeling very self-righteous and unyogic. And then I went to the second class.....
It started out okay, but I could tell that something was not quite right with my back. I felt a twinge right over my right hip, so I was like, cool, I will be so super awesome and do the modified versions of the poses. But the twinge was still there....and then I did warrior one, I was working hard to move my hips in line and then did a slight back bend and.....*$#%^ .....no more yoga for Elissa. And, the self-righteous feeling, gone. First, I tried to move my broken frame to my mat and lay in child's pose. Child's pose was not possible, my arms flailed out in front of me but I could not sit on the back of my legs. Next, I rolled over and tried savasana (corpse pose), but laying on my back was excruciating.
So, I did the next best option, I quietly ratcheted myself up and moved quietly out the door. I walked around the building until the class was over and as I went back in to pick up my mat, it actually took my a minute or so to get back to a standing position to get to the car.
But I decided that this experience was actually very good for my yoga practice. Doing stupid things is a good way to learn how to silly people can be.
Lessons Learned:
1) Yoga is not a sport and so trying to do advanced moves as an advanced beginner is just silly.
2) When the body first twinges, STOP then.
3) Over confidence almost always leads to some sort of humbling experience.
Next class: will listen to my body and do what I can......
I started at hot hatha, which is basically a class where one holds several poses for long periods of time to work on strength and focus. I was rocking it in the first class. My leg went over the back of the head while I did the dancer pose. I was able to do a few poses where I was balancing on one leg and I was in head stand for a significant period of time. I looked at the back mirror while doing a backbend. I was feeling very self-righteous and unyogic. And then I went to the second class.....
It started out okay, but I could tell that something was not quite right with my back. I felt a twinge right over my right hip, so I was like, cool, I will be so super awesome and do the modified versions of the poses. But the twinge was still there....and then I did warrior one, I was working hard to move my hips in line and then did a slight back bend and.....*$#%^ .....no more yoga for Elissa. And, the self-righteous feeling, gone. First, I tried to move my broken frame to my mat and lay in child's pose. Child's pose was not possible, my arms flailed out in front of me but I could not sit on the back of my legs. Next, I rolled over and tried savasana (corpse pose), but laying on my back was excruciating.
So, I did the next best option, I quietly ratcheted myself up and moved quietly out the door. I walked around the building until the class was over and as I went back in to pick up my mat, it actually took my a minute or so to get back to a standing position to get to the car.
But I decided that this experience was actually very good for my yoga practice. Doing stupid things is a good way to learn how to silly people can be.
Lessons Learned:
1) Yoga is not a sport and so trying to do advanced moves as an advanced beginner is just silly.
2) When the body first twinges, STOP then.
3) Over confidence almost always leads to some sort of humbling experience.
Next class: will listen to my body and do what I can......
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Two faced meal.
As I was sitting in my house recovering today, I had the occasion to look around my kitchen and recognize the odd mix that is my diet.
I am really into food politics. I watch the movies about GMO foods (from both sides). My kindle books right now are a biography of Cod, a book on the philosophy of food and a book on the history of food. I can quote obesity statistics for most of the country, I know what the calorie counts are of everything I eat, and yet, my diet is just weird. And my weird diet has made me really become aware of the benefits of locally produced organic food.
Almost all of the vegetables in my house are organic, from the local CSA(the fruits and vegetables themselves come from the entire west coast, but are 100% organic.) They are a bit bruised when they get to my house, but they taste absolutely succulent. The apples are flavorful, the oranges are juicy and not sour or bitter and the strawberry was simply perfection. When I make my boiled greens for the week, I can actually taste the difference between the chard and the collard and the kale even after I have boiled them in wine or chicken stock.
The non-organic veggies in my house are the opposite. They are canned and frozen and flavorless. I have corn on my counter that looks brownish yellow and is packed in some sort of watery product. The fruit cocktail cups for my young son's lunch cannot possibly contain fruit. The little squares of juice infused squishy things taste okay, but nothing like a real pear or a real apple.
Then, in a fit of convenience, I decided to buy a set of packaged and over-processed food like-main dishes to have around the house. They are convenient, and confession, they don't taste awesome. My cupboards are filled with different mass produced preservatives mixed with different varieties of corn and soy products. The nutrition labels give the deceptive picture that what I am eating is low-calorie and is fortified with all of the vitamins an adult woman could need. And, because of my food politics reading of late, all I can think of when I eat my box of stuff that is meant to approximate an entree is that I know where this thing comes from and it ain't a fishing boat in Alaska or an organic farm upstate.
And for me, I realized that the main issue is that I don't really know how to cook so I get scared and either go out to eat or eat food-like substances. I can make chili (but all of the ingredients mostly come from cans), I can make quiche (but I use a trans-fatty pie crust from Marie Callendar's).
So, protect your children (I will probably accidentally leave the oven on), and get ready for emergency phone calls and texts regarding my inability to figure out how to clean up the flour I spilled on the floor and the weird smell emanating from the sushi rolls.
I am officially, in a month, when all of the processed crud has finally departed my kitchen, am going to become a person who eats only food. :)
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