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.