Friday, 3 September 2010
There is a yoga class in 40 minutes at my gym and I'm contemplating going. Of course to get there I would need to actually get out of my pyjamas and brush my hair and probably take the Monkey with me. But I will contemplate it some more, until it inevitably gets too late to go.
I've been going to the gym regularly again now that I have the time and it feels wonderfully good. I love being virutously sweaty and sore. I love waking up the next morning and feeling my glutes and core muscles burning. But I love best of all how it affects my sleep and mood. I sleep so much better when I've exercised out my demons. An exorcism of sweat.
Between the sun (the weather here consistently is at a balmy 27 degrees and sunny with light sea breezes), the sleep, the garden and the exercise and some very very deep soul searching I'm feeling more myself lately. I've balanced this with some meditation and my own yoga routines, focussing on my flexibility. I'm naturally quite flexible but haven't been keeping as limber as I normally am, and the creakiness in my joints matches the creakiness in my flexibility in life at the moment.
I'm finding as that I am more easily able to stretch I'm coping more easily with the things that are hapening in my own life. I'm also contemplating learning to play violin or piano. I have no doubt I will be terrible, but I have a compulsion. The need to create burns at the moment.
I went to the class. I am happy with how flexible I still am. I am very unhappy with the shape that I'm in. I need to take this more seriously.