30 Day Challenge! A few firsts....

Day 29- February 24th

At this point, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that I continue to experience a litany of “firsts” as I wend my way through this challenge. My sage dado always told me that I should notice or experience at least three new things per day, and on my 29th day I most certainly did.

Shortly after 3pm, my friend and instructor Jenn invited me to accompany her and a few of her co-workers to the 4:30 Bikram class in Redmond (a studio to which I’ve never been.) I immediately started making excuses for myself: I have no mat, no towel, no gear….but then I thought, “Why not?!” This is exactly the sort of thing I need to enliven my challenge. Truth be told, as much as I love Penni (a battle axe in a tiny little vixen’s body); I was in desperate need of a change.

I bolted from work ten minutes early and began my trek around Lake Sammamish with only my handbag and trusty Igloo water bottle (filled with ice from the dining hall) in tow. Upon arriving, I delighted in the natural light flooding this new studio which was at once classic and modern. A single rack stood humbly at the front window with a handful of designer duds, from which I chose a sports bra and hot shorts. This is worth mentioning because I have never, in my entire yogi career, bared my midsection during practice. I was nervous to do so but knew I had no choice.

Having acquainted myself with Glenn, who was to be my instructor that evening, I headed into the room to the space that Jenn had saved for me. En route, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the front mirror and considered for a moment. You know, I actually look pretty good. Jenn leaned over and nudged me to let me know that she instructed Glenn to give me an especially hard time.

The room was hot. Yes, this is hot yoga, but the room was BOILING. And arid. I’m accustomed to the humidity in my beloved Fremont studio so I immediately noticed a difference. Sunlight flooded into the space and during half moon pose, I bent toward a ray of light poking into the room as though I were a flower thirsty for the light. My postures were fluid and strong but my mind began to wobble as it attempted to balance on the precipice of Hades.

I started to panic. Glenn calmly intoned that if we aren’t at our edge, we are taking up too much space. “Oh, don’t worry” I thought to myself, “I’m at risk of tipping over into the depths of hell at any given moment...” At one point I reached for my water for a brief reprieve from the intensity but had barely even picked it up off the ground before Glenn told me I didn’t need it—leave it be. This was new for me. Not only was he guiding me through the practice, but he was keenly aware of my mental weaknesses and was quashing them at any opportunity.

Before the floor series began, Glenn cracked the door open, which was unfortunately on the far side of the room. I waited patiently for a gentle waft of cool air to roll over my body. When it finally arrived, I was near tears at the brevity of it and tried to ensconce myself in Glenn’s calm guidance: “The human attention span is only 52 minutes so your mind is probably beginning to wander.” He could not have been more right…Nevertheless, I battened down and instead focused on his recommendation that we breathe as though we had gills along the sides of our bodies.

Somehow I managed to endure the entire 90 minutes—even though at one point Glenn took my water away from me. I don’t need it, he insisted. This was practice in a way I had never experienced before. It was regimented and ridiculously hot with little reprieve. During one of the very last postures, I was wilting. I sank to my knees but felt Jenn staring directly at me. She shot me a look that intimated "Upsy Daisy Butter Cup," and I knew I had to power through. It's one thing to hold yourself accountable, but it's quite another when you have a friend there to goad you on. On day 29, I’m not sure I could have done it without her.

30 Day Challenge! 28 Days Later

Day 28- February 23rd

Slowly and ever so subtly, I began to unravel. I grasped steadily at the string with my sweat-soaked fingers in an attempt to salvage the formidable yarn I’ve formed over the past four weeks. But there it was: The sweet siren song of savasana sang to me in dulceted tones and I sank…gently succumbing to the warm swath of her arms.

The tightly wound ball of fibers I’ve been knitting so studiously slowly deteriorated on the 28th day and it took every fabric of my being to keep this from happening. My practice is a blanket, it would seem: An ornate quilt which I am gradually stitching, quietly crafting, relentlessly refining. I delight in its flourish and intricacies on some days—but on others, struggle with its design. Today, I dropped a stitch. I turned my back on the project and set my knitting needles down for a moment wondering what I had gotten myself into.

Ultimately, as always, I persevered—my tenacity reaching new heights. I simply picked up where I’d left off and made the best of what I had to work with, delicately weaving in little accoutrements where I could—leaving lavish undertakings for another time.

And this is what I love about yoga. As Saiko always says: it’s a journey…this is a project to be undertaken throughout the course of my lifetime.

30 Day Challenge! So Not Yogi

Day 27- February 22nd

I was wound up like a spring ready to rocket into outer space; such was my excitement for going to class tonight. I’ve been having some moments of clarity regarding certain tweaks in my postures, so I couldn’t wait to try them out!

Upon arriving to the studio I placed my mat next to one of my burgeoning yoga buddies Kent and began trumpeting my belief that I’d finally transcended the heat (which I was soon to discover was most definitely not the case.) Mid-sentence, I noticed that my mat was also kitty corner behind Kevin, and Kevin happens to be the studio owner.

I’ve always been a showboat….this can’t be helped. It seems my life’s purpose is to please others, impress them and make them smile. Kevin knows my volition to attend teacher training so I felt obligated to give it my one million per cent. Not to mention the fact that I wanted to impress Kent as well. I can’t help it…I fully recognize that my attention-seeking and pride are not at all in the spirit of a yogi. Though, at least I recognize this fact. Self-awareness is key to reaching the path of discovery and understanding…..or something like that, I think.

My breathing flourished and I felt the promise of a good class at bay. In the half moon posture I pushed my hips far to the left and reached up and over to the right so that I formed a lovely rounded 90* angle. My body glided effortlessly and I serenely focused on myself in the mirror even though I was pushing my body to the utmost maximum of each posture it could achieve.

Then something changed: the air became thick and laden with volcanic heat. I thrust into the triangle posture, deepening my squat so that my thigh, calf and shin felt as though they were being dipped into a vat of molten lava. I winced briefly and considered collapsing onto my mat, simply surrendering to the practice. Instead I buckled down and shifted my attention: breathe….just breathe. I bounced up and transitioned to the other side but felt wobbly. The volcano was rumbling and I wasn’t sure I would persevere. It took every ounce of tenacity and strength I’ve built over the past 27 days to not buckle and relent.

To make matters worse, I was stricken with pangs of hunger that were all but hooting for attention from the depths of my stomach. I felt hollow, ravenous and downright weak. “This is what you get for trying to be a showoff” I chided myself. Needless to say, class wasn’t what I expected. Just as I’ve learned over the course of the past month that things rarely are what you expect them to be. I can only observe, learn, and hopefully grow.

30 Day Challenge! The Final Countdown!!

Day 26- February 21st.

"It's the FINAL COUNTDOWN!!!!" I sang to Jenn as I signed in for my 4pm yoga class. This is it.....I'm fairly certain if I've made it this far there's no slowing me down now.

For the first time since I can’t even remember when there were no lights turned on. The shades were up and the afternoon sun was filtering into the studio offering another layer of delicious organic warmth. I was excited today—I’ve called Jenn my good luck charm before and there’s just something about the way she teaches that makes practice so fun and lighthearted.

I’m experiencing my postures in a new and different way every day—they continue to evolve ever so slightly which I guess is why practice is called just that: practice. During locust post, in which you lay on your arms with your palms facing toward the ground and use your spine strength to hoist your legs (glued together from the thighs to the toes) toward the ceiling, Jenn came over and aided me in lifting my legs even higher. It just felt right. She helped me understand after class that I should be making a scooping motion with my legs as opposed to just attempting to jut them straight into the air.

As with life, I tend to get routinized and sometimes forget to step back and look at the bigger picture. When I take a moment to view things from a different perspective, there’s always something to be learned.

As I continue to blaze through these final days, I feel bright, insightful and calm. I am keenly aware of my self—no longer fraught with limitations or frustrations. The fatigue has dissipated…having perhaps evaporated in the heat of my yoga room. It’s the final countdown for my challenge- but I feel as though my journey’s just begun.

30 Day Challenge! Hitting a stride

Day 25- February 20th

Light on my feet, my spine erect, I headed through the warmth of the waning Seattle sunlight with a skip in my step. Fresh grass wafted through the air and tickled my olfactories enlivening me with hope and excitement. It’s as though this challenge has shepherded me through the last remaining twilight of winter and I’m awakening on the other side—the dawn of spring.

I was surprised by the number of people present for 5pm yoga on Saturday when in all reality; they could have been at happy hour. BJ congenially guided and nurtured us through our 90 minutes and I felt my body hit its stride. I’ve stopped anticipating what’s next and learned to solely focus on the present.

Things are going pretty well. Five days remain!!

30 Day Challenge! A Good Friday

Day 24- February 19th

At risk of sounding too hippy dippy and metaphysical, I'm recognizing a change within myself. It's as though all the ideas and revelations I've had over the course of the past 24 days have been baking in the warmth of the yoga room. I'm more aware of myself. More aware of the actions I take and thoughtful of the consequences they may have.

Friday nights continue to be my favorite night to go to yoga for a million little reasons--one of them being that it's emancipatory from the work week. On the island of my yoga mat, I drift away from the rigors of a two hour commute, the incessant ring of my phone, the steady stream of emails. I drift away from the banalities and land contentedly in my home away from home-- the yoga studio in which I've spent every single day for nearly the past month-- where everything comes so clearly into focus.

Going to yoga has become as much a part of my routine as brushing my teeth, combing my hair or putting on my mascara. It is as integral to my quotidian habits as going to sleep each night. No longer do I dread going to class or wish I could have my freedom instead-- as surely as I draw in breath, I go to my yoga with excitement, anticipation and ease.

30 Day Challenge! There is no heat?

Day 23- February 18th

I felt lukewarm during practice and it’s difficult for me to determine whether or not I’ve reached some sort of higher state of being or if the room was in fact cooler than usual. I still stood dripping on my mat, but the heat was neither taxing nor oppressive.

For the first time since my challenge began I was taught by Frances, a darling girl I've seen practicing in the studio before but have never had the good fortune of being one of her students. I found myself hanging off her every word. She spoke frankly and without flourish, her words decorated by a smile I felt permeating the room. She had just come back from attending the Yoga Asana Championships in LA and took a class with Bikram whilst there. As a result of practicing with the genius himself, she was able to offer a few nuggets of inspiration that changed the way I considered my postures. It's interesting to think that even though all of my instructors so brilliantly and concisely explain each movement, having Frances say one particular thing differently was able to affect me so greatly.

30 Day Challenge! A fresh perspective

Day 22- February 17th

“Oh my gosh, it’s so dark in here I’m going to pee my pants!” chirped Penni as she bounded into the blackness of the studio right before class was to begin. This quip had me burst into laughter and I began to look forward to practice with a giddy lightheartedness. As Penni stood on the podium, cheerfully explaining pranayama deep breathing to the three newbies, I happened to notice a long thread on her bum. Being the dedicated student that I am, once she had completed her instruction I delicately plucked the offending strand off her person and she erupted in a fit of giggles.

Her laughter was just what I needed for practice that night. I was surrounded by fellow yogis and friends (Lauren was there! Yay!) all with the same ultimate goal: health and happiness. Penni’s effervescent voice lifted me above the sea of everyone’s breath and I remembered at that moment what I had forgotten as a result of being entrenched in my routine: This is supposed to be FUN! Though I must complete my challenge I should not look at this as being obligatory or arduous because that’s a negative and exhausting perspective. As Jenn often says, “It’s yoga, people.” Sure, it’s never going to be easy, but going in with excitement and a positive attitude makes the 90 minutes much more fun.

Having said that, the similarities between the microcosm in which I live and the greater picture again come to mind. It continues to amaze me as I make my way through this journey how many lessons I’ve learned standing on my yoga mat for 90 minutes a day. I’m certainly not enlightened yet….but I feel like I’m getting there.

Day 21- The Microcosm and The Universe (explained through hair)

Day 21- February 16th

I’m growing out my hair. For five years, I had a cute little pixie cut that changed colours with the seasons…platinum….midnight….chestnut. I finally stopped colouring my hair a year ago and decided it was time for a change. Historically, whenever I would attempt to let my hair grow I would become extremely annoyed and frustrated during the “awkward” period. Since I looked like I had an unfavorable encounter with a lawn mower, I would abandon my growth efforts and go back to being a pixie. Perhaps it’s a result of having a marvelous stylist in my life, but I believe my new found patience and ability to stay true to my goal of growing a long lustrous coiffure is likely a result of my time spent within the yoga studio.

Yesterday it became apparent that my yoga practice is similar to this growth endeavor. Hair grows….but the growth and change comes about in a painstakingly slow, subtle way. I can’t remember the facts but I want to say that we gain about a half inch per month. In order to prevent my coif from getting ratty, I find it necessary to have a trim every six or eight weeks in which probably a quarter to a half inch is removed. Basically, I’m right back where I started….Except slowly but surely, I’m getting there. I focus on keeping myself cute for now but dream of the bigger picture, the end game: long glistening auburn hair covering my chest so that I might prance around San Tropez in a bikini bottom and nothing else yet still be covered thanks to my Rapunzel-esque mane.

Is it too obvious to make the direct comparison to my postures? Lately, they’ve felt stagnant but on the 21st day I did a brief recap in my mind as I lay in Savasana at the end of class. I can lock my knee for 60 seconds and bend my elbows beneath my knee. I can touch the top of my head to my knee and keep my hands in prayer position at the top of my toes. When I bend backwards, I can almost see the floor. These changes have come about so subtly, yet so steadily. I realize that if I put in the effort, no matter how unnoticeable the immediate results, something is happening. I see where I’m going and it pushes me to continue….

30 Day Challenge- This is my life.

Day 20- February 15th

I realized today that doing 30 continuous days of Bikram yoga is not that difficult—it’s the “obligation” aspect with which I’m grappling. After 20 days I long simply to slink into a warm bath, pour a big glass of wine, poke around the kitchen to create a lovely meal with my husband, play a game of scrabble…watch a movie….doze off on the couch. But instead, I’ve become a soldier of yoga—fiercely regimented and reliably predictable. The element of “option” has been removed from my vocabulary so that my freedoms are limited. I mustn’t be too indulgent or too profuse lest it negatively impact my yoga.

After work I became an ornery teenager—irritated and cantankerous. It wasn’t at all that I didn’t WANT to go to class; it’s just that I wanted what I couldn’t have. I wanted…freedom. What’s the point of being tied down to such a specific number, anyhow? In any case, I’ve committed to this challenge and so it must go. It all comes back down to discipline. If I can do this, I feel like maybe…just maybe….I can do anything.

Bless Brett’s little heart for putting up with me the past three weeks. He sent me off to practice with his ever-cheerful encouragements and away I went. As per usual, the moment I stepped into the studio, I felt wonderful. Practicing Bikram in the summer definitely has its compelling arguments, but there is nothing quite like practicing in the hollow months of winter. It offers solace from the bone-chilling cold and balances out the bitter chill to make these interminable months seem the slightest bit more tolerable.

I placed my mat next to Jenn, one of my instructors, who seems to act as a bit of a good luck charm for me. I always have a really strong practice whenever we’re next to one another. Her energy and positivity are so formidable it’s almost as though they waft over to me in a delicate, ever so subtle cool breeze. Sure enough, my postures were strong, my energy high. I was back. Sisyphus made it up to the top of the hill!

Saiko gently intoned “Be okay with who you are today,” as I lay belly up on my mat, relishing the tiny bits of cool air that tickled my forearms and calves. Today, that was an undemanding feat. Naturally, it’s much easier to accept yourself when you’re in a good place, but I took that bit of wisdom and held on to it for the future—to remember on the more challenging days. As long as I give it my all….as long as I do what I’m able—I will be okay...nay HAPPY with who I am.

30 Day Challenge...A Sisyphean Feat

Day 19- Valentine's Day

Saiko always says that you can come into class with the best of intentions-- your mind is in the right place, you're ready and excited to go. But sometimes you don't always get what you expect and it's important to work with what you brought into class. Today was that day for me.

I've known my practice has been going too well for too long and I was waiting for the bomb to drop. This is not the right mentality to adopt, but I somehow knew that today was going to be the day for a bomb of weakness to blow my determination and strength to smithereens and leave me a sweat-soaked lump on my towel.

I arrived to the 4pm class with resignation, irritated by the repetition and annoyed with the prospect of zero reprieve from the temperatures that were boiling my skin. I simply went through the motions and consoled myself that no matter the outcome; class would be over in 90 minutes. 90 long….grueling….miserably uncomfortable minutes. Today was the day that I wanted so desperately to crawl out of the room. It literally took every ounce of discipline in my body to stay put and persevere.

Today, I was Sisyphus. I felt as though the previous 18 days were all for naught. All the wisdom, strength and fortitude I had built up rolled right back to the bottom of the hill. Just as Sisyphus knew his plight was to endlessly roll a boulder uphill only to have it come right back down to the bottom, I knew I had to continue my journey no matter where I ended up. By the time I had reached standing head to knee pose; I decided to give it my all—regardless of the results.

The floor series finally arrived, and I was defeated. My limbs and my torso were filled with wet concrete. In a strange role reversal, I had to become my body’s cheerleader, gently encouraging it through each move. While ultimately I moved at a slower pace, I did manage to plunge deeply into the temporary challenge. I started at the bottom and crested despite the multitudinous adversities with which I was faced.

When practice came to an end, I plopped down, sighed and closed my eyes. I suppose everyday can’t be cake. Without the struggle, success just won’t be as sweet. At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself.

30 Day Challenge! Be Here Now

Day 18- February 13th

My life has become a series of thoughts and feelings that are punctuated by yoga. It is the comma that corrects the run-on sentence of my quotidien chores...the exclamation point at the end of my day. It is the present tense.

Saturday was the perfect day. It consisted of a lazy brunch at Anita's Creperie, making Valentine cards for Brett and my parents, a mellow practice, and a late night trip to Whole Foods.

30 Day Challenge- You are my sunshine

Day 17- February 12th

I suppose it only makes sense that since my yoga provides me with so much light that I consider it to be my sunshine as well. As I boldly make my way into the thick of this challenge, it strikes me that yoga IS my sun. Over the past 17 days, every little action, no matter how inconsequential, has begun to orbit around practice-- every plan I make is contingent on my ability to go. The questioning as to whether or not I should stay home and laze about or go to yoga has finally dissolved. As surely as the sun will rise, so too shall I be at my Friday night practice.

After the doldrums of the work week drew to a close, I rushed home to squeeze in a few viewings of my absolute favorite new program: Be Good Johnny Weir, a reality show on the Sundance Channel. I'm not terribly abreast of the goings-on in the ice skating world, but when I happened upon an irreverant advertisement of his show within the beloved pages of my Us Weekly, I was intrigued. The series kicked off with his documentary "Pop Star on Ice" and thanks to On Demand, I was able to watch the first three episodes of the season. Johnny is completely amazing and I am totally in love with him-- he is eloquent, refined, witty, controversial, fashion forward and passionate.

Before I knew it, it was time to prepare for my Friday night sweat session with Saiko. I chugged down my electrolyte cocktail, gathered my towels and outfit, kissed Brett on the cheek and then hopped into the car.

The heat was stifling. I curled up in a ball on my side and imagined that I was in a tropical locale--the sun beating down on me and filling me with warmth. Before too long, Saiko entered the room, raised the lights, and calmy guided me and 20 others through practice. She mentioned discipline toward the end, which really resonated with me. She praised us all with our fortitude to have made it into the studio on Friday night. We were there and we were committed.

With each moment that passes in this 30 day challenge, my discipline grows-- its roots deepening and leaves blossoming. I stand stronger, more focused, more centered and happy. I drifted home on a cloud that night to watch the Olympic ceremonies unfold- giddy with content, exhausted with accomplishment.

30 Day Challenge- Rays of light.

Day 16- February 11th

NPR wafts gently throughout the confines of my car and I listen desolately to the weather report.

Today’s forecast: rain and clouds.

Tomorrow’s forecast:…..rain….and clouds.

Sunday’s forecast: More of the same.

It’s as though I’m driving through the moors of Scotland. A soft and thick fog, like that which precedes the arrival of a pirate ship, envelops my car and carries me gently to Issaquah. I’m ferried along, discouraged and disoriented by the darkness cast over me like a thick, woolen blanket.

So I search for my solace, my sunshine elsewhere: within me, within my friends, and within my studio, with much success. Day 16 offered a lemony burst of warmth that brightened my day more than any amount of sunshine could ever possibly hope to do.

During Padahastasana, in which you fold yourself in half like a grilled cheese sandwich, I pulled on my feet with such vim that I heard a dull, disconcerting POP in my hip bone, as though a giant, cardboard piece of bubble wrap was bursting. My body disjointedly responded by lurching forward and even though I was able to achieve the maximum expression of the posture, I felt like a rickety wagon wheel whilst doing so. Even still, I smiled to myself. My mind and body are becoming great buddies: communicating and agreeing on what they need to do. They’ve become a team. Sometimes disagreeing with each other, but ultimately working to achieve the same goal: happiness, health and wellness. And flexibility too.

Having read an article by Mary Jarvis earlier on in the day, in which she boasted the importance of not consuming water during practice, I decided to have my hand at this endeavor which was lofty considering I often rely on icy fluids as a source of solace and comfort. I managed to make it until the end of the standing series, by which point I was longing to embrace the glistening coolness of my frozen bottle. Since there was little melt-off to imbibe, I attempted to fill it up but as a result of the intense humidity hovering above us, the water queue was considerable. Lisa cautioned that we would miss savasana so instead of waiting I plopped back on my mat with resignation. Five minutes later, she passed by, swept up my bottle, and filled it to the brim. I certainly wasn’t expecting such a treat but felt luminous as a result of her kindness.

I was light at the end of practice: wrung out, sweat-soaked, exhausted and content. Once in the changing room, I checked my phone and saw an email from my yoga buddy Jen in which she was applauding my fortitude and telling me I was amazing, a rock star, a stud.

14 days remain, and I'm aglow with excitement- despite the rain and clouds.

30 Day Challenge- Half Way There!

“Ohhhhhhhh we’re half way there. Ohhhhhhhhh-wo, we’re livin’ on a prayer!” I sang to myself as sweat pooled on my mat and towel, my arms locked out like a vice with my head in between and my right leg burning as it reached toward the back wall. This is Tulandasana (the balancing stick) and what Bikram refers to as a self-induced mini heart attack in order to avoid the big one.

As of late I’ve been trying to reconcile the mind-body disconnect, which I touched on briefly yesterday. My fatigue seems more mental than anything else so I decided last night to force my mind to listen to my body- and not the other way around. And you know what? It worked. I concentrated steadily on my calculated and even inhalations and exhalations and just let my body embrace the positions with which it had become so corporeally familiar without my ego getting in the way.

During Trikanasana (the triangle), known as the “Master Standing Posture” and the crescendo of the standing series, I became uncomfortable and told myself to lie down but after some struggle my body persevered. I deepened my squat and reached my arm up with complete physical ease despite my mind’s whiny protestations. Ever supportive, Penni piped in “You’ve got this, Heidi.” And she’s right: so far, I do.

15 down, 15 to go.

30 Day Challenge....2 weeks in and I'm waving, not drowning

I have a heavy rotation of fluids littering my desk (Earl Grey, Matcha, an Americano, ice water, and energy water) but I feel like I would be better off with an IV. My arms hang heavily at my sides, my hands like bowling balls mashing against my key pad. A vapid fatigue flits over my body in dull pulsing waves. This has been the longest two weeks of my entire life, which I find strange considering this challenge only comprises 6.25% of every day or 9% of my waking hours.

Despite my current exhaustive state, day 14 was a great success. Many things were at play in making it so but the fluidity with which I practiced gave me the encouragement I needed so desperately to carry on.

My friend and co-worker Lauren accompanied me today, which also helped give me the motivation necessary to get to practice. We met at the front desk and I showed her around, securing two side by side spots in the middle row, adjacent to the instructor’s podium. She had done Bikram in LA, but was anxious to see how her body behaved since it had been a few years.

I felt so at home—so in my wheelhouse—and was incredibly grateful one of my co-workers had the chance to see that. Despite my whining and complaining, this is what I long to do. Suzanne, a gorgeous, limber and ever-so-sage instructor of mine noted that my eyes were glowing when I ran into her outside the changing room. I immediately boasted that it was the 30 day challenge and she wholeheartedly agreed.

Aside from seeing Lauren’s bright blue saucer eyes staring at herself in the front mirror with a laser beam focus, I had another little boost from my yoga bag of tricks that I’ve been using lately: my water bottle, but not in the way one might suspect. I freeze one of my two water bottles every night in order to have a nice glacial hunk of ice with which to hydrate during class. By the time I reach the floor series, this miniature glacier is adrift in a sea of crisp, divine, deliciously wet eau de vie. The bottle rests on its side next to me and as I am on my belly, staring straight at it, I begin to envision the tiniest version of myself, unfettered from reality, drifting in the water in a state of pure unadulterated bliss. This diminutive carefree pixie smiles calmly at me and gently coos “You’ll be fine. Take it easy. Life is peaches.” It sounds a little silly, but it helps.

My instructors often chant “Your body can do this. It’s your mind that needs the work,” and I’m finding that to be 100% true. The physical challenges have become easier and easier though my mind is becoming increasingly more adverse so I implement these little tricks and hope to float along.

30 Day Challenge! Yoga Zombie.

Day 13- February 8th

I never believed 13 to be an ominous number, but was forced to reevaluate that idea today. I’m not even at the half way point and thoughts of ending my journey here and now began rolling heavily around my head. More than anything I want my evenings back. I want to loaf around with a glass of wine and read a book if I should feel so inclined. Who would even notice if I quit? The age old questions that I ask myself every couple of days began cropping up again.

A thick layer of fatigue covered my body like a blanket. I stretched my legs out over Brett’s lap on the couch and buried my head underneath my Snuggie. I don’t consider myself to be a quitter—but the prospect sounded ever more enticing as my mind became addled with sleep.

I’m not quite sure what prompted me to get off the couch and carry on aside from Brett all but shoving me out the front door. “Meditate on it during practice” he offered. “Decide today if you want to continue or not. You’ll likely feel better afterward.” I hung my head with resignation and padded down to the car.

Despite not wanting to be in class, the warmth was comforting. The familiar smell of soggy, sweat-soaked carpeting, a welcome perfume. Now that I was there, I had no choice but to stay and practice. Postures that are typically performed with effortless grace became arduous and uncomfortable. In an effort to stretch as deeply as is the norm I focused on my movement instead of my breath and often realized over half way through a posture that I had been forgetting to breathe. Yes, breath is what this whole endeavor is centered around. As one of my instructors once said, “This is a 90 minute breathing exercise. The postures are only here to try and distract you from that.” And today, they did.

I summoned the strength to complete the standing series despite sweat dripping up my nose during standing head to knee. I struggled and forced my way through although considering flopping down on the floor more times than I’d like to admit. Finally, the sweet release of corpse pose had arrived and the past hour washed over my body in an epic wave. I lay flat on my back for two full floor postures before rolling onto my belly and powering through the rest.

I leaned heavily against the front desk as I told Saiko of my intense struggles afterward. The fact that she noticed at once disappointed and comforted me. She asked if I was okay and noted that I had been doing a LOT of yoga lately, so this was only natural. “There are lots of peaks and valleys,” she sagely nodded. “It’s an interesting journey.”

Interesting journey, indeed. But today I had to wonder: Where am I going? And WHY? Not having the energy to ponder that question, I instead went home and let Calgon (read: Lush) take me away.

30 Day Challenge! Superbowl Sunday

I halfheartedly considered going to the ten am practice on Sunday morning so I wouldn’t have to miss out on any of the Superbowl festivities that would be unfolding at our house later—but I realized when I woke up at quarter to ten that wouldn’t be happening. Instead, I spent the day cleaning and putting away the mountains of clothing that littered our bedroom.

As soon as our friends started to arrive, I stepped out to make my way to practice. I couldn’t help but feel rude and guilty for being such an awful host even though in the back of my mind I tried to reconcile my emotions. Brett did orchestrate this get together, so I suppose I shouldn’t feel TOO guilty about hopping out for a few hours. That put me in a funk, in any case.

The studio was delightfully quiet for an early evening practice on Sunday, which can only be a result of the football game. Approximately a baker’s dozen of ladies (peppered with one or two gentleman) spread out across the room in preparation for a thorough work through by Penni.

Since there was a vast amount of open space, I decided to practice in the second row so that I could get a different perspective on my form. It’s strange to think that simply moving my mat around the room could have such an intense impact—but it did. I had a clearer perspective on my alignment because I wasn’t mere inches away from my reflection in the front mirror. My funk fell away and I experienced my practice in an entirely new and different way which goes to show that sometimes I need to get out of my comfort zone in order to get a fresh perspective both in class...and in life.

30 Day Challenge! Weekend Recap

Day 10- February 5th

Friday night practices, though arguably the most challenging for me, are my favorite nonetheless. Both my mind and body are fatigued from the events of the week, but Bikram is my favorite way to sweat it all away and start the weekend renewed and refreshed. Typically, you'll only find the die-hards holed up in a sweaty room at 6pm on a Friday night so it confused me when there were three rough and tumble looking folk in the back row right behind me. I'm certainly not judging the fact that they were there-- more power to them for hopping on the bandwagon. But I was about to discover that they would prove to be worthy adversaries against my powers of concentration.

Shortly after pranayama deep breathing began, the gentleman who was directly behind me started laughing. I know I shouldn't have been, but I was a little bit offended. As the warm-up progressed, I began giggling internally to myself because this guy was seriously like a fish out of water. But then I thought back to my first practice many years ago and some of the thoughts rolling around my head: Am I in a cult? How long does this breathing go on? I look like a spastic eagle...In any case, I tried to block him out to the best of my ability and pressed on.

Day ten. One third of the way there and everything is going swell. I felt strong and limber. The only thing bothering me was my big toe, which I stubbed terribly before practice began as I was unrolling my mat and searching the room for someone I knew. That aside, I performed well. I can feel some of my postures change and my body is getting stronger. I would say that could potentially be a placebo effect of me thinking I'm stronger simply because I'm going to practice more often- but I am. My heart isn't beating as rapidly during the crescendo of the standing series and I haven't been laying down at all.

I can't help but find it daunting that two thirds of this challenge remain-- even though I know that's not the right perspective. Moreso than what remains, it's what I've done. And of course, most importantly: it's not what I've done but where I am right now. Right now, I'm pretty good.

Day 11- February 6th

I wasn't sure how class would go today because I drank considerably more on Friday night than I had in...well...I'm not even sure. Don't get me wrong, I still wasn't as indulgent as in the days of yore; but two glasses of wine, a PBR and a tall boy of Kokanee was more than I had planned on.

My friend Jessica, Brett and I went out for a late night dinner at Ballard's dive bar Fat Albert's before heading over to my once beloved trendy saloon King's Hardware. Historically, I relished the excess and shenanigans of drunken college students thronging to King's of Leon whilst pounding back tall boys of Rainier Beer. I would even be among those vying for a turn at the derelict skee-ball machines (refer to my faceboook pictures for proof.) Somewhere along the line, something changed. I felt like an interloper and everyone around me knew it. This probably had something to do with the fact that I was painfully more sober than anyone surrounding me. After choking down my Kokanee, it was time for bed. Brett and I left Jessica with one of her buddies we had met at King's and made our way home in the wee hours of Friday night.

Sure enough, as a result of Friday night's unfavorable combination of fried chicken, cheap beer, and wine-- I was out of sorts on Saturday. Despite having slept a whopping thirteen hours, I was still terribly discombobulated. "Oh well," I thought to myself, "too bad for me." I put the crap in my body, now it was time to pay the piper and sweat it out, so to speak.

As the warm-up began, my arms felt leaden. I wasn't sure how I was supposed to raise and lower them 20 times when I was convinced they were replaced with the arms of an arthritic 80 year old. On top of that, I felt nauseous. I briefly wondered to myself if I should lay down at that moment, leave or press on. Naturally, I pressed on. Despite the initial discomfort, the remainder of my class was great. The weakness fell away the moment I stopped focusing on it.

My instructors often say "drop it off" after a posture has been completed. Always focus on the task at hand and forget about the one prior. So long, class eleven. I dropped it off, checked the box, and picked up Brett to wander toward Crown Hill in search of some Greek food.

30 Day Challenge- Hooky and Virgil

Day Nine- February 4th

The pizza, in retrospect, was not a wise choice. Though temporarily satisfying, I awoke on Thursday with intense gastronomic discomfort. While it likely wouldn’t last the entire day, I had to make a game time decision- stay home or go to work. If Brett and I had two cars, I likely would have headed into the office for a half day but since we have just the one, I told Brett to go on ahead without me.

I checked my work email periodically, but fortunately for me and my co-worker it was a relatively quiet day at the office. The majority of my day was spent guarding the couch and drinking copious amounts of peppermint tea to quiet my tummy. Whilst loafing, I finished what is now included in my top ten list of best books ever: “The Women” by T.C Boyle. This literary masterpiece is a poignant story of the women in Frank Lloyd Wright’s life and is the sort of tome in which you learn a myriad of historical gems without even realizing it.
Feeling rested and operating at 85% capacity, I prepared myself for evening yoga. Of course I’m not going to miss class even if I missed a day at work! I arrived to the studio and didn’t see any of my regular chatting pals. The mood was completely mellow and extraordinarily quiet with only 30 or so students in the room—far fewer than in recent days.

I had the good fortune of practicing next to Virgil, who had just finished up his 4pm practice and was lined up for a double-header (I have yet to try that out…maybe if I’m feeling crazy on day 30 I’ll go out with a bang). Virgil is one of the most unique folks I have had the pleasure of meeting and that old phrase “You can’t judge a book by its cover” comes to mind whenever I think of him. He is of a medium build, with every muscle completely developed—but not in the beefcake “I am a human upside down triangle” sense—rather, he is a lean, mean yoga machine. He does both Bikram and the equally challenging Ashtanga yoga anywhere from six to 12 times per week depending on his schedule. He is an iron worker with full body tattoos and when he’s not building cranes or at the yoga studio, he loves going to the cinema and riding his motorcycle. As I said, super cool guy.

But I digress. Class number nine was phenomenal, which was likely the result of having a completely non-stressful day with ample amounts of rest. Yesterday I (ironically) forgot to mention something Penni said during class that stuck with me. It came back to me during my practice today and was extremely comforting in each posture: Let go. Don’t hang on to the discomfort and don’t let the struggle bother you. You will forget about the pain immediately and only the benefits will remain—which is another little nugget of wisdom to put to use inside the yoga studio and out. Funny how that works….

30 Day Challenge! 30 days of yoga...or laundry?

Day Eight- February 3rd

I'm not going to lie: I was exhausted on Wednesday. There is no valid excuse for my fatigue unless being completely enthralled by "Jennifer's Body" the night prior counts. No, it was not a quality film, but it was compelling nonetheless. I lovingly absorbed every moment until I disappointingly realized it was 11pm and time for bed. On Wednesday morning, I hit snooze too many times and hustled to prepare for the day. Fortunately for me, a package had arrived from J. Crew on Tuesday so I wasn't forced to rack my brains about what I should wear. I slipped on a cute blue skirt (that I would be chastised was too short by a few younger co-workers to which I quipped "It's not my fault I have long legs"), a multi-dimensional coral coloured shell, and a grey t-shirt cardigan. Since I had a meeting with vendors, I put on my light grey patent shoes with thick wooden heels (over a pair of maroon trouser socks, to display my signature brand of quirkiness.)



Fortunately for me, the day was busy. I felt relevant and important as I strategized pre and post meeting with my vendors-- taking copious amounts of thorough notes throughout. As the work day waned, so did my energy level. Day Eight. I rolled around the idea of it in my mind. So what? Who cares? Why am I doing this? When Brett picked me up at 4 I began nodding off in the car to the gentle lilt of conversation on NPR.

Upon arriving home, I plopped myself on the SS Shilshole and begged that Brett allow me a 15 minute nap. (He's been enlisted as my sargeant general to make sure I report for yoga duty every day without fail.) Any more than that and I would be unforgiveably groggy. Nearing the end of my allotted snooze I felt my mouth become agape and those impossibly quirky thoughts with which one is stricken right before the onset of sleep begin to lap up against my consciousness. Alkaline with hunger, I trudged instead to the bedroom to find something cute to wear to practice. I find that cute outfits are another incentive for me to go to yoga: if I'm wearing something darling, then I too feel darling and am much more excited about the prospect of prancing around my studio.

I was apprehensive as to how my class would be because of my fatigue, but unnecessarily so-- I was stronger than ever before. The only hang up for me was my feet. They were terribly wonky throughout the entire standing series. I couldn't figure out what my problem was. The first thing I noticed is that they didn't want to line up. They were askew, and I couldn't place my balance flat across my foot. I was rocking as though on a boat from my heels to the knife ege of my foot to the ball and back- which proved a worthy adversary against my balance. Due to this nagging fault I couldn't stay in a balancing posture before begining to rock and tip over midway through. Then suddenly, I had a light bulb moment. Heels! Dang heels- shouldn't have worn them! I'm an overpronator with horifically flat feet to begin with so those shoes were the last thing I needed. Note to self: Stop wearing heels to work and only wear them to special occasions and nights out on the town. Foot issues aside, practice was a success. I didn't take one unscheduled savasana and pushed myself harder and harder wanting to impress not only Penni (the Hun) but to prove to myself that I can do this.

After class Brett and I picked up a pizza from Zayda Buddies (a Minnesotan-style pizza place that serves Lienenkugels on tap!) to enjoy whilst watching another movie (the title of which I am too embarrassed to mention). This is the unhealthiest I've eaten since my challenge began, but was also exactly what the doctor ordered. What's a little indulgence once in a while?

To conclude the evening I threw in a load of laundry which was to be the eighth day of laundry in a row. I looked at Brett and laughed. "Is this a 30 Day Bikram Challenge, or a 30 Day Laundry Challenge?" Either way- both are going full throttle. 22 days remain.

30 Day Challenge! Initiate Yoga-Bot Transformation Sequence

Day Seven- Ground Hog's Day

It is days like today that make all the impossible practices worthwhile. I strolled into the studio with confidence on Tuesday as though I were the cock of the walk. Day seven- here I am. I’m going to rock you like a hurricane. But then, I looked at the broader picture and became giddy with nerves. So wait, after I complete today’s class I STILL have 23 days left?! That’s a bit daunting. I tried to narrow my focus again and remember the age old wisdom from the classic film “What About Bob”: Baby Steps. I can baby step this one day at a time.

I’ve been going to this studio for quite some time, so I have had the opportunity to get to know a few of the other diehard yogis like myself. This has had the added benefit of incentivizing me to show up to class because it becomes a sort of social hour before and afterward. (As I told Brett-I’m turning into a socialite cum yogi: a “yoga-lite.”) My friend Jen is a baker at the Flying Apron Bakery in Fremont and one of the gals who is very likely now going to participate in the 30 day challenge. She greeted me with a vegan cinnamon roll, at which I immediately began nibbling. The prospect of having companions with whom to tackle the challenge is extremely comforting and exciting because we can not only rely on each other’s strength but also cheer each other on with little treats (such as the aforementioned cinnamon roll). I caught up with Kate, one of my instructors who has not taught in a while because she has been traveling a lot for her work as a photographer. I bounced around the changing room like a ping pong ball and then landed on my friend Kim who just returned from a long weekend touring Alabama with one of her favorite bands. I feel so much love for all these people and was literally bursting with energy as a result of these wonderful relationships I’ve begun to develop.

As a result of being such a busy-body before class, I wasn’t burdened with over-thinking what my practice would be like. I spent the final moments before 6pm chatting with Kate and BJ before finally scurrying over to my mat. I was all but grinning as I began my pranayama deep breathing and was continually (dare I say) proud of my fortitude despite the intensifying, almost burning heat. I made it all the way through the standing postures with my energy level and spirits in tact.

But then, after sucking down a few sips of ice cold water, my fatigue caught up with me. It was as though my body had a chance to realize what exactly it had been enduring for the past hour. Right before the full locust pose- where you lie on your belly and lift up your entire body using your spine strength, I felt like I could close my eyes and fall asleep at that moment. Considering that I had such a strong practice thus far, I decided to utilize the mechanisms of my youth when I was in a swim meet or any other competitive environment: self-induced fear. In order to make myself swim faster and push myself harder, I would imagine that Freddie Kruger was chasing me. I can only conclude that this idea worked because I always won my events and beat my previous times. As I lay there with my arms sprawled to either side and my legs and feet glued together, I pretended that I was on the precipice of a volcano. I imagined that once the posture began, lava would flow up and burn me to pieces if I didn’t raise my arms and legs as high as absolutely possible. The higher I could lift myslf—the cooler the air would be. At least, that’s what I tried to convince myself. Much to my amazement- my little trick worked. I powered through the rest of class like a yoga-bot. I’m going to have to keep that tool in my back pocket for day 27…..

30 Day Challenge- 20% there!

Day Six- February 1st

Though the cataclysmic shift in my life has not yet happened, I’m living with the modus operandi that it will indeed occur in T minus two months. There was an air of excitement after practice on Sunday and it felt like I was back in college—when every night the evening becomes a blank canvas to make of whatever you like. I decided not to subscribe to the stringent minutiae of my daily rigors (yoga, shower, dinner, movie, sleep) and instead went home and dolled myself up for a spectacular dinner at Ray’s Boathouse.

We toasted to a long happy future together and indulged in a Sake Kasu sablefish (for me) and Alaskan King crab legs (for Brett.) Having grown up under the profoundly wise tutelage of my father, I took the scissors from Brett’s hands and went about swiftly extracting meat from every crevice of crab in record time until there was a massive mound of thick, juicy deliciousness.

The crowd dwindled and there was scarcely anyone aside from us at the restaurant. I felt spectacularly en mode with our bay window seating. Though completely dark outside, I could see the waves gently lapping against the dock-- a heron perched above our window quietly observing the night unfold.

Feeling festive and a bit quirky when we returned home (likely a result of the Ketel One martini), I decided to inflate our Aero Bed, which I aptly named the S.S Shilshole (Ballard being located on Shilshole Bay.) We watched a fair bit of TV before I finally decided to hit the hay around 11—and yes, I most certainly was going to camp out in our living room on the S.S. Not that I want to place blame on our air mattress for my restless evening, but I’m fairly convinced our kitties have poked multiple holes on the raft which caused me to slowly and steadily sink toward the floor throughout the night.

I woke up exhausted on at 5:30 on Monday morning. My fitful sleep, combined with the fact that there were only about six hours of it made for a slow-moving start to the day. I somehow managed to power through the day and make it to class that evening. However, when attending practice no longer becomes a choice and is instead a pre-ordained necessity, even if I can’t “manage,” I know I will have to buck up and go.

After scurrying in from the rain, I curled up on my mat in the warmth of my familiar studio—happy and relieved to have made it. As all my instructors say: getting there is the hardest part, the rest is just cake. People continued to file in up until class began. A whopping 64 students squeezed into the room for their Monday night detox session which isn’t bad considering the room can accommodate up to 66.

Practice was difficult in an unusual way for me. I was fatigued to say the least, but most frustrating was that my mind and body were completely discombobulated. I couldn’t get them to cooperate with each other to save my life. If my posture was strong, my mind began to wander—when I had determination and focus my limbs were indignant and leaden.

As the floor series began, I remembered all those piano and viola lessons during my formative years and how I sometimes would skimp on practice, but had enough inherent skill to perform well for my teacher. I had them duped, so to speak. I had to laugh because if I adopted this same mentality in the yoga room, I would only be cheating myself. It was apparent to me at that moment that this room in which I spend so much time sweating and toiling is like a microcosm of my life. Things don’t always go as planned, I’m not always as prepared as I would like to be, and sometimes I just don’t feel like rising to the occasion. Regardless of that fact I have to take everything in stride, push myself to the best of my ability, and accept the results for what they are. Both inside the yoga room and out.

30 Day Challenge- 1/6th of the way through!

Day Five- January 31st

I woke up feeling rejuvenated and ready to take on the world on Sunday morning so I busied myself with domestic duties which had been neglected during the week. After making Brett a modest breakfast of two eggs sunny side up, an English muffin and three pieces of turkey bacon, I prepared myself for an outing to Whole Foods, which Brett and I affectionately refer to as Whole Paycheck.

In hopes of maintaining and stabilizing my energy level for this endeavor, I procured a host of goodies including nut and seed bars, frozen berries, lots of fruit, whole grain bread, Tom Tom turkey sticks and any other protein laden snack I could get my hands on. I attempted to keep my purchases relatively modest since the store is only a few miles away. Even still, I managed to fork over just over a hundred bucks.

After my shopping was done I went about cleaning our fridge by disposing of dubious leftovers and frozen goods that were so overcome by freezer burn that I could no longer even tell what they were. Once everything was squared away it was time for me to get ready and go to class. I nervously asked Brett to look up who my instructor was and begged him that it please not be Penni—but sure enough, it was. Don’t get me wrong, I love her signature brand of butt-kicking, but considering the weakness of my class the day before I wasn’t sure I could handle another tough go. But alas, I had no choice.

I arrived to the studio and anxiously told Penni my intention of heading to teacher training to which she cheerily replied “You are?! Of COURSE you are!!!” I confided that if I can make it through her classes, I can definitely endure whatever Bikram will put me through. She was excited and supportive, which renewed my flagging confidence.

Practice ended up being phenomenal. I had a ton of energy and flexibility and I managed to stay strong and focused for the entire 90 minutes. Penni even noted that she couldn’t remember the last time a class had been as focused and determined as we all seemed to be. I was practically grinning by the end- thrilled that on my fifth day in, despite having a few extremely challenging classes; I was able to bust out a great one. I realized that if I take this one day at a time, I just might make it!