My Third Day of Yoga - and Something Unexpected Happened

Photo courtesy of ronnachaipark from Freerange Stock

I have been terribly out of shape for some time. For a variety of reasons — and, yes, a good handful of excuses — I haven’t been particularly active for…well, way too long.

Last year was especially tough. Just when I’d finally got myself settled after a few moves in a short period (including yet another international one) and a lot of emotional and other upheaval, I was happy when spring arrived and I tried going for walks.

But I had a problem with my feet that quickly became quite painful. I stopped going for walks thinking I had minor infections that would soon resolve. The situation blew up almost overnight, and ultimately I required minor surgery on both feet. I had to wait another couple of months before I could get it done.

More sitting. More inactivity while I waited.

Then yay! Surgery was done! And…not yay. I was not allowed out of the house — for nearly four months! — because of the high risk of injury and infection with this particular procedure. I convinced the podiatrist to at least let me out once a week for a very quick trip to get groceries. And while at home, I had to stay off my feet.

It took that long for the wounds to heal — well, to get to the point of not being open wounds. And now, eight months post-surgery, they are still not fully healed but at least I’m able to leave the house and go for a walk again. However, I hadn’t been walking for months before the surgery, due to pain, and even longer for other reasons.

The result? I’ve become so stiff I might snap off a limb if I bend the wrong way — just like a dry old twig. 🤦🏻‍♀️

I figured I ought to start slowly and gently. Wait, what??? I’m always the one who dives in head first at the deep end of the pool before I check to see if there’s water in it. Used to do this with relationships a lot but…then I remembered I can’t swim. 🙄 I don’t do that anymore.

So yeah, apparently, I learned a thing. Slow. And. Steady. And the other thing. Consistent. Baby. Steps.

I did yoga years ago and after some major changes in my life and routine, including moving across the planet (the first time), I stopped. Tried again a few times and my heart wasn’t in it. Just wasn’t enjoying it. Okay, let’s be honest. I detested it. And had no idea why, when I used to enjoy it. 

I took up Tai Chi instead, which I love.

But it doesn’t allow a lot of bendy stretchy stuff like yoga pretzelishness does (I’m a million miles from pretzelishness but the bendy stretchies could help me get there in about 400 years). 

I’ve been feeling called back to yoga for a while. Only I’ve been arguing with myself about it. 

“But you hate yoga!” 

“I know.”

“So what’s all this, ‘I wanna do yoga again’ goofiness?”

“No idea.”

“You know you’re just gonna go, ‘Oh, dang, I remember. I hate this,’ right?”

“Maybe. But I feel like I have to try.”

“You’re weird.”

“Back atcha.”

So…recently I FINALLY got my act together. Couldn’t wait another day. I found some gentle beginner videos on YouTube that are between 10 and 20 minutes long. All manageable. So I have ZERO excuses not to do them. No more of this headfirst-into-the-damn-pool stupidity and setting myself up to fail because it’s too much too soon. NOPE. 

I was (am) actually prepared to wait to feel results. 

And gee, willikers! Guess what?? 

For the first two days, I struggled to last ten pathetic seconds doing Downward Facing Dog. You know, the one where your hands and feet are flat on the mat while your, um, derriere is aimed up at the ceiling (Poor ceiling. Hmm. Come to think of it, now I’m thinking about a whole lot of other awfulness to which ceilings are subjected. Oh, the stuff they have to witness!). 

Photo courtesy of ronnachaipark at freerangestock.com

Instantly, my feeble little sit-at-a-computer-way-too-much arms were quivering. Absolute jelly. Gone are the days when I was raising a house full of kids and heaving around lots of groceries and baskets of laundry up and down flights of stairs and doing lots of other home/garden physical activity. My current life requires virtually none of this. 

And it shows.

So…I managed two days of instant feeble-arm wobblies and then caving after probably 8–10 seconds (that’s probably a tad generous). Today was the third day. Annnnd…I lasted the whole time the instructor did — about 30 seconds. 

Yay! I’m signing up for Iron Man now! Woohoo! 

Wait. What’s that you say? Whaddya mean, I need more than that? Dang. 

The point is — we are remarkably resilient healing machines. Our bodies want and need for us to use them. They respond like crazy excited little kids screaming, “YIPPEE!!!!” when we give them jobs and use them for their intended purposes, one of which is to use them regularly and not to stiffen up like old boards — or old boreds…

I don’t want to be an old board or an old bored!

I have to admit, it felt awfully good to have some gentle stretches — and with lovely music playing softly in the background. It made being up at 5 a.m. worth it.

“What? Did you really just say that?”

“Did I say what?”

“You were up at 5 a.m.”

“Uh-huh.”

“But that’s when you like to go to bed.”

“I know.”

“And yoga made it worth it?”

“Yup.”

“But you hate yoga!”

“Apparently not.”

“You’re weird.”

“So I’ve heard.”

Spiritual Arts Mentor and Master Teacher, Liberty Forrest, guides you in discovering who you are, why you’re here, and how to follow that path.

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