Both my brain and my body are questioning my decision-making process over the selection of classes I took this weekend. On Saturday, Chip and I took a two-hour Yoga Empowerment fundraiser for breast cancer class. On Sunday, I took my usual spin class. Two very different uses of my body and brain.
I am still a bit confused as to what transpired as a result.
On Saturday, two very gifted instructors, Jaime and Vicki taught the class from two different practices, one more deliberate and slow the other with more interactive movement. I will not attempt to butcher the names of the different practices they teach.
The class was held a warm, dark room mostly in partial silence. (Silence is my least favorite thing.) The instructors spoke of peace and breathing and worshiping your body by not pushing it, listening to it and respecting it. (I was thinking of those yummy looking homemade energy balls that were waiting for me after the class was over.)
Her command snapped me back to the present, “Don’t do anything that pushes your body beyond what it is capable of doing.” Hmm.
We continued stretching to names of poses I did not recognize and breathed deeply, exhaling with sound, for what seemed like an eternity.
For the record, I can breathe that deep and that long only when my nose is about 2 inches from a hot loaf of Perreca’s bread!
We ended with a guided meditation. I honestly do not know what to say other than my mind was going at 100 mph and yet I could hear the deep, relaxed, almost snoring sounds of my fellow yogis. I don’t get it. None-the-less I left feeling pretty good and ready to finish up the day.
On Sunday, I was back! I awoke 2 minutes before the 6am sign in for the 8am class. The app was moving slow and my heart rate was beginning to increase fearing I would be shut out. I finally secured a spot and brewed some pre-class Death Wish Coffee, ate a quick yogurt and headed to class.
As I have said in the past, I am so fortunate that I have such great spin instructors, and Sunday morning with Joanne is one of my favorites. If I am getting up on a Sunday, I better work, and I do.
Unlike my compatriots in Yoga, spinners are told to feel the burn, breathe to get control of your out of control heart rate and turn that knob to attack that hill. Pain means change. The lights are off so none can see you cry, it is not to be in sync body and soul. I may have actually sold my soul on a number of occasions to get bike number 97 and I get through by dreaming of a slice of warm Perreca’s bread!
By mid-morning Sunday, my poor old body was confused and struggling between the peace of slow and diligent yoga the day before and Sunday’s bikers high of a 650 calorie burn affording me a piece of my mother’s whipped cream birthday cake from Civitello’s.
Ahh, but don’t worry friends. The yoga helped me sleep, the spinning helped me eat and I was back at BODYCOMBAT with Meghan at 5:30am this morning.
Life has returned to normal. I may revisit yoga again but perhaps after a cardio class first.