Yoga. Is it just for the bendy?

Posted on 27 January 2010 | 8 responses

Jon finally convinced me to go to a yoga class after several weeks of wheedling.

He claimed it is ‘fun’.

Most women already know this, but I am going to restate it for those that don’t.

Men are liars.  They lie to get women to do things they want.  In this case, it was yoga.

Upon entering the ‘fun’ yoga studio, I was greeted by bendy people wearing very tight clothing.  I felt like the chubby girl that tries out for cheerleading; awkward, out of place, and not sure what to do next.

While clutching my Pilates mat to my chest, I noticed the lithe yoga people were gathering yoga supplies of blocks, mats, blankets, pillows, cords, and bolsters from a cart on the wall. This was my first real yoga class – no one told me I needed to bring along a yoga checklist!

Luckily the instructor noticed my blank stare and got me all the necessary supplies.

Then the torture began.

While she had us bent up like some sort of contortionist and seated on the floor, she told us to rest our head lightly on the floor in front of us.  I was bending as far as womanly possible and my head was a good two feet from even coming close to the floor.  It was so absurd that I started to giggle.  I had a sense that laughing in the calm, unhurried space of yoga class would be unacceptable so I desperately tried to hold it in.  Unfortunately, the laughter came out in pressured bursts with large amounts of spit.

My uncontrollable giggling was not appreciated.  I quickly sobered up by thinking about sad things like never being able to have chocolate ever again.

She had us try to do things that are completely impossible while saying all manner of words that had more vowels than consonants and at least 12 syllables.  Due to my lack of fluency in the yoga language, I just watched to see what the rest of the class did and desperately tried to mimick their movements.

At the end of class we did some final stretches to ‘completely loosen up’ all our tight muscles.  She led us through a stretch that involved putting your left foot on your right knee, bending into a squat, leaning forward, and then merely doing a handstand to deepen the stretch.  Simple.  Right?

I couldn’t get past step two in the task.  There was no way a pretzel handstand was up next.  There are only so many times a woman should risk her life doing stupid things and this was not one of those times for me!

Yoga is for masochists. It’s an hour and a half of doing torturous things that are impossible for the average woman.

Apparently I fall into this group because I am toying with the idea of going back.

Perhaps it was the sense of satisfaction of not being dead at the end that hooked me.  Who knows?  All I know is that I better keep the giggles under control if I go back!

Best Monday EVER.

Posted on 25 January 2010 | 7 responses

I did not leap out of bed at 5 am to go work out.

I slept in and was late.  No Green Monster smoothie for me.

The grouchiness settled in and nothing good could come out of today.

After all it’s Monday.

All of my Mondays tend to be horrible, no good, very bad days for no reason in particular.  I am apparently hardcoded to have a bad day on the first day of the week.

Until today.

Today is possibly the best Monday I’ve ever had.

I came in to work to see this at my desk.

Upon opening it, a very exciting box winked up at me.

My FREE boots from Sally McGraw’s contest had arrived!

Aren’t they gorgeous?!

Thank you Tsubo and Sally McGraw, you have changed the landscape of my Mondays forever.

I guess all a woman needs is a free pair of boots to make Mondays fabulous.

What would make your Monday fabulous ?

What would you pay for the PERFECT body?

Posted on 20 January 2010 | 5 responses

This evening I went for my weekly near death experience of working out with my trainer to help me get rid of my muffin top.

While I struggled to sit up for the 37^th time, he posed an interesting question.

“What would you pay to wake up tomorrow and have the perfect body?”

Immediately I wondered if the bank would give me a line of credit for such a thing.  Perhaps I could say it was a business venture.  Or I could sell all my shoes…how much would my shoe collection bring on Ebay?  Hmmm….

Right away I realized I would have to sell some organs on the black market to make this dream a reality.

A hundred thousand?  Two hundred-fifty thousand?  What would it be worth? Would you pay more than what your car was worth brand new?

After thinking about it, I don’t think I would pay much at all.

I would wake up being the same exact woman I was on the inside with an outside that was my idea of perfect.  Nothing would change what I dislike about who I am, my confidence, or my fear of chasing my dreams.  I would merely be a very hot woman that has all the same issues, problems, insecurities, and psychoses.

“What would you pay to wake up tomorrow and be confident in who you are?”

That’s the real question.

The wonderful thing is that you don’t have to pay a dime.  You could wake up tomorrow and choose to be satisfied in yourself and know that everything about you is worth enjoying.

Today I am choosing to like everything about myself; even the muffin top.

Being fully you and proud of yourself is gorgeous.

Paying to wake up beautiful is what Hollywood does…and let’s be honest, they really don’t have it together over there.

The Secret To A Long and Happy Life Must Be Fabulous Shoes

Posted on 14 January 2010 | 6 responses

I plan on living until I am 100.

When I am 100 I want to be able to walk on my own, know who I am without having to be reminded, and laugh until my stomach hurts.

This is why I am torturing myself by going to see my trainer for a near death experience once a week and eating Primal.

Do you know how hard it is to give up everything except meat, eggs, vegetables, fruits, and some dairy?

This means no brownies, chips, mac ‘n cheese, cookies, candy bars, or even popcorn.

My world is officially devoid of all comfort food.

Yesterday I desperately wanted something to ‘crunch’ while watching TV so I ate half a jar of mini dill pickles.  The crunch was satisfying, but the churning in my tummy wasn’t.

During my last training session while trying to run a mile as fast as womanly possible my calves seized.  My left leg ended up at the back of the treadmill clanging around as I tried to keep the conveyor belt from sucking it under.  Luckily I got my right leg off the belt, but it has completely seized as well.  As I fell forward in a semi-panicked state, I managed to push the ‘OFF’ button.

After limping off the treadmill and stretching out, I was told this is a direct result of wearing high heels too often.

My heart nearly broke in two.

I have given up so much already!  My new comfort food is dill pickles people!  There is no way I am giving up my shoes too.

In an act of pure defiance, I purchased a brand new pair of fabulous heels.

I see no reason to NOT wear these.  In fact, I think they just added 2 years onto my life.

Neurosis or Normal?

Posted on 11 January 2010 | No responses

There is no question in my mind about the fact that I am a bit odd.  There isn’t much about me that’s normal; and that’s ok.  I actually like being a little different than everyone else.  Perhaps that comes from growing up with a name like Donloree.

There are things I do which I find quirky, but may be more normal than I think.

• I put important things that I don’t want stolen in my underwear drawer.  For instance, I just tucked my passport away next to my bras because somehow this makes perfect sense to me. Perhaps I am giving thieves more credit than they deserve.  In my heart I think they will be respectful enough to not rummage through my unmentionables while robbing me blind; thus protecting the most important things in my house.Maybe I should just get a safety deposit box…
• I think the organization of a woman’s spice cupboard and how clean behind her fridge is tells you exactly what kind of woman she is. My spice cupboard is jammed full of things that aren’t even spices.  Heck, I have a smoke detector in there!

But I have this spice rack…so does it mean I can pull it together when absolutely necessary?

My fridge appears to be just fine from a quick glance.

But upon closer inspection, I’ve really let myself go!

This is why I will pull the fridge and stove to clean behind before people come over instead of dusting.  Then when they use this litmus test to see if I am a good woman I will pass with flying colors and the dusty pictures and lamps will go without notice.  Right?

• I put peanut butter on almost anything.  Bananas, any sort of bread product, apples, ice cream, Nutella, a spoon, a hunk of chocolate, vegetables, you name it! Some days I find myself standing in front of the open refrigerator with a jar of peanut butter in one hand searching for something worthy to pair it with. If nothing can be found I resort to eating it off a spoon.

• One of my life goals is to be able to masterfully bake a soufflé.  I don’t know why but it seems to be one of those things that separates the girls from the women.  And you never know when a soufflé emergency should arise…if called upon in such an emergency, I would want to be able to save the day.

Am I the only one?  Please tell me it isn’t so!

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