First Day of Fitmas: Partridge in a Pear Tree

Monday was the First day of Fitmas.

I was disheartened when my plan to attend late-night candlelight yoga was subverted by, what else, MY WORK.  After looking forward to the calming, rejuvenating class all day, I left the office just as the class was beginning.  On my drive home I stewed over how unfair life is, how I’d failed at the Twelve Days of Fitmas before they’d even really begun, and how the road to BLOB is paved with good intentions.  As I drove I got angrier, more frustrated, and more righteously indignant (if that’s even possible).

You're an idiot!!!
Image by miqul via Flickr

After I got home, I continued to stew.  I had already missed my morning run, and now here I was missing the first opportunity for an in-studio yoga class.  Despite my conscious effort to set aside time for holiday revelry, rebooting and recharging, I am officially blobbier than ever!  And I had so looked forward to the Twelve Days of Fitmas.  What a supreme bummer!

Yoga, more like no-ga
Jacked from:

So I decided that perhaps I could still salvage things by doing a 90-minute yoga podcast at home.  I turned the lights down, and the OMs up.  I tried with all my might to stay present in the present and not check off lists, not re-hash wrongdoings both by me and against me, and not fear inevitable forthcoming wrongdoings.  And then a weird thing happened. 

Happy Namastes
Jacked From:

 About 60 minutes into the podcast, the instructor called for a head stand.  I had never attempted a head stand, not in any class, not with any podcast, not even on my own in my living room on a Sunday morning.  I had seen people do it plenty of times.  I had even pushed my Dolphin Pose within an inch of its life, struggling to advance to that next level.  But on that night, the first Day of Fitmas, I just went with it.  She said head stand, so I did it.  I measured the stance of my elbows with my hands on my biceps, just like I’d been taught.  I placed my head between my hand and tip-toed my toes closer and closer to my face re-creating the tortured Dolphin I’d come to know so well.  And then, as if I’d always done it, I lifted my feet together, slowly and with control, until they hovered lightly above me.  I did it!

Topless 139
Image by bandita via Flickr

 And I grinned.

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