30 Day Challenge, Day 14: Take it easyyy

Judging this week's designation as the week of "firsts," it is only fitting that in tonight's second series class, I had another first.


My first yoga injury (well, other than the toe-stub incident). Yes, you heard that right. Although it seems oxymoronic, I did indeed do something screwy to my shoulder this evening. 


Perhaps I hyper-extended my shoulder or pulled it too far out of its socket (as I sometimes tend to do), but following my second parivrtta parsvakonasana, I started hurting. Katie noticed, and immediately came over to me. I told her that I thought that I had injured it just then, and that I could not lift my arm, or rotate it in its socket. She began kneading it, and we both guessed that it was a muscle-thing. 


I continued with the practice, omitting chaturanga and downward dog, and replacing it with cobra and child's pose. As the practice progressed, there were a number of asanas that I could not access.


But I was okay with this. My body has been working hard for the last 14 days, and pain is an indication to slow it down. So I did.


I am sure it is just a muscle injury, so I will see an active release massage therapist Friday, after which I'll be right back on my mat, taking it as easy as my body tells me.  

30 Day Challenge, Day 13: Turning my world upside down

Handstands scare the crap out of me. Period.


I generally dislike being upside down, with my head in a vulnerable position. This fear has impeded my progress with headstand, and has made the idea of a handstand practically inconceivable.


When I hear a teacher say, as Andre did yesterday, "Grab a partner/drag your mat to a wall...dun, dun, dun... we're doing handstands", I cringe more than a little bit.


I tell myself so many reasons for being unable to try handstand: My arms will give out, my core isn't strong enough, I'm going to break the wall slash my partner's nose, and the list goes on.


But I was out of excuses last night. My handstand partner, Nancy, wouldn't have it. She knew my stomach was tying itself in knots at the thought of standing upside down on my hands, and that was a perfect reason for doing so. 


So I tried it. From downward dog, Nancy held her hands on my hips as I kicked up:


One leg up...
The other leg up...
BOTH LEGS UP!


With Nancy's help I was standing on my hands! As she was talking me through it, I could feel her hand position change.


Oh shit! I'm going to flip over!


I then began to press my legs inwards into Nancy's fist. 


Ohmigod! She's not holding on to me anymore!


"Natalie, you're doing all the work," Nancy said. I was! Of course, it was crucial having Nancy's hands there for stability, but I was actually doing all of the work to stay up there!


When I was ready to come down, I kicked my feet down into downward facing dog, came to my knees and let out a little yelp of excitement! I gave my handstand-partner-goddess a big hug, and was full of energy for the rest of the class. 


I could not wipe the smile form my face for the rest of the evening. I was strong and brave enough to kick up into a handstand, and use my own strength to keep myself up there.


That's the good part. The bad part, however, is that now when my teacher says we're doing handstands, I have no more excuses. 

30 Day Challenge, Day 12: Our First Time

After a day off yesterday, I was certainly expecting tonight's Primary Series practice to kick my ass. Normally I attend primary series alone (my mother and friends won't touch that class), but I arrived in class tonight with my friend and housemate Kirah. Kirah has done flow yoga before, but this was her first experience with primary.


As class began, I could feel her gaze on me and could sense imminent giggling as we begun the invocation chant. While chanting, I realized I probably should have warned her about this surprise.  


Moving through our sun salutations and into our first standing poses, my first experience with primary series began appearing in my thoughts. Perhaps I was feeling nostalgic at seeing Kirah try out primary for the first time, but I recalled one morning at the old studio when I impulsively decided to try a Mysore class, perhaps two and a half years ago. I walked in having no idea what to expect. Natalie, I'm so glad you decided to try Mysore, Katie said as she handed me a primary cheat-sheet. 


I stepped on to my mat, sharing the room with many of the same students with whom I practiced tonight, and started trying to replicate with my body what was going on with that sheet of paper. I was wrong far more than I was right, and Katie spent more time with me, adjusting and correcting, than she did with the rest of the students combined. I remember walking out of that class thinking, What the hell was I just doing in there?


Clearly, I continued practicing. When my thoughts returned to the present, I could not help but note the contrast between that first practice and tonight. I know that I really should not be comparing my practice to anything, but thinking of the development of my practice was a very inspiring consideration.


This was especially true because tonight, I was able to get into Marichyasana D without assistance from my teacher, and the full expression of supta kurmasana (with assistance) for the first time. It is the coolest feeling when you have been practicing something for a very long time, and then one day, you just go further into it then you ever have. 


Yeah, yeah- I know I should be avoiding judging myself. But you know what? This is kind of a big deal for me, so I'm going to revel in it!...even if I can never do those things again...


When class was over, Kirah said she really enjoyed it, but found it a little bit crazy. She was light-years ahead of where I was when I did that first Mysore class, and my practice has certainly come a long way since then, too. It was a night of firsts, which I celebrated by making a big, delicious greens smoothie when I got home.

30 Day Challenge, Days 8, 9, 10, 11: I've been a slacker

Yes, I have been a slacker with the blog. And yes, this is a direct reflection of how I have been feeling about the challenge over the last three days.

I have an excuse for missing my Friday (Day 8) blog post. I did two evening classes: Yin Yang, followed by Meditation. I was feeling excellent in class- perhaps it was a combination of it being my 21st birthday and the fact that I love the Yin Yang class, but I felt incredibly energetic throughout my practice. Meditation was an interesting experience. I realized that sitting still is a huge problem for me. But I am totally down to keep trying it out. As I just mentioned, it was also my 21st birthday, so I spent the evening celebrating with my closest friends. I feel like that is an acceptable excuse for my lack of a blog post that day.

While this is a pretty good excuse for blog-skipping, I can give no other reason for my truancy on Saturday, Sunday and Monday other than apathy and exhaustion. 

On Saturday, I (very reluctantly) attended a noon hot flow class. I was not happy to be there after a late night before, and I planned on chilling out in child's pose for the majority of it, perhaps nodding off to sleep in the process. When class began, my ego kicked in. I should have rested more in this practice because I really was not feeling fully healthy, but my mind was talking to  me far too much, and I began to ignore my breath. This is an intro class, I thought, you can do every pose in this practice, and I really should not pass up such a great learning opportunity. So I did the whole class. 

Bad idea. I felt sick, and overexerted. I was dragging myself around the rest of the day, almost dozing off as I sat through an exciting basketball game later in the afternoon. 

Sunday, Day 10, was a much better experience. I took on another intro class, this time in the ashtanga room, and was really able to find a comfortable place in my practice. I did what I could without altering the breath, and when I did, I dropped to balasana. It really is incredible how much better I felt after practicing in tune with my breath (omitting some poses or taking modifications where necessary), than I did the day before when I had tried to do every pose regardless of where my breath was.

Following class, there was a meeting for all of the 30 day challengers. It really is awesome to hear that we are all feeling similarly, having similar struggles, sharing similar triumphs, and following similar motivations for taking on this crazy adventure.

One would think that such motivation would have inspired me to get right back to my mat. 

Oh no. When I awoke Monday morning to get to the 9:30 class (the only one I could possibly make it out without interfering with my classes and a commitment that evening), I could not drag my ass out of bed. It was not happening. At 9am, I finally made it out of my bed physically to brush my teeth, but I felt like I could hardly stand. My first class (at school) was not until 11:30, and the temptation was just too strong to go back to bed for another 2 hours. I did. 

Guilt followed me around all day, until I texted my mom to tell her about how rotten I felt for being such a slug. My mother, also a 30 day challenger, reminded me that I was one class ahead as it was, and that by missing yesterday I was right where I should be. She also reminded me that I would look beautiful and rested at the gala dinner that I would attend in the evening. 

It is funny how a mom's words can make you feel instantly better. 

So tonight, I'm headed to primary series at 7:30 pm. After my day of rest, this should be a real challenge.

30 Day Challenge, Day 7: Second series blues

I eagerly bounced into my second series class tonight. I popped out my mat, took a supine hip opener, and ensured that I had a fresh band-aid affixed to my injured toe. Class began; we dove into our first sun salutation. I was feeling pretty good, not as energetic as usual, but I figured that that would change. Then our second. Whew, my arms feel a little bit weak. Then the third and the fourth. I tried to work through the weariness. After struggling through the fifth, we transitioned to sun salutation B, and I pushed myself through three repetitions. 

By this time, my limbs were shaking, my muscles were becoming wobbly, and my breath was quick and shallow. I kept telling myself I could work through it, but my body won out. By the time I reached my third downward dog, my knees moved right down to my mat. Before I could even process what was happening, my body moved right into child’s pose. I was thinking so much about why this was happening, why I could do ten salutations two days ago, barely breaking a sweat, and today I could hardly breathe. After judging myself and trying to figure out what was going on, it occurred to me.

I am tired.

Seven days, and seven practices. I have never gone more than three days without taking a day off. My body is not quite sure what is happening to it, and it was asking me for a rest. I listened. I stayed in child’s pose for a little while, and then rejoined the class. I decided to continue to listen to my body and breath, and modify or take a resting pose when I needed to. I substituted some downward dogs with child's pose, and I chose "legs up the wall" for my inversion. 

It was an excellent decision. By the end of the practice, instead of feeling exhausted, I was refreshed and energized. 

Tonight I learned that my perfect practice, need not necessarily be a "perfect practice."

30 Day Challenge, Day 6: Easy does it

Ow. 


A gentle practice should not be hurting me this much. The class I attended today was a gentle, mostly restorative hatha practice. We moved through poses like trikonasana at the wall, spinal waves, wide-legged child's poses and forward bends, in a slow, focused sequence. To finish class, we lied in savasana, propped up by a bolster and a blanket.


After a long, restful savasana I got up to leave class. Feeling tranquil and steady, I opened the door. 


Before I tell of what happened next, it is important to understand that I am hopelessly clumsy. I fall walking up stairs, I walk into walls, and I usually face-plant if ever the sidewalk on which I am walking changes elevation. I have used yoga balance poses over the past three years to treat my chronic klutziness, and have seen quite a bit of improvement in my ability to remain upright for reasonably long periods of time.




Perhaps today I was so relaxed by the practice that I let go of some effort, or maybe I was less focused than usual, because as I opened that door I ran it right over my big toe, subsequently squishing it, tearing off a piece of my toenail, and cutting a nice gash right through the digit. The worst part, however, was the fact that others in the class were still relaxing as I left and as such, letting out a loud expletive to diffuse the pain was not an option.


With closed eyes and a clenched jaw I asked for a band-aid, and hurried out of the studio.


My toe is still throbbing, despite soaking it in sea salts and bathing it in witch hazel. Although I am certain that I am not the only person who leaves a gentle hatha class feeling like they are walking on air,  I am probably the only one to walk on air right into the sharp edge of a door. 

30 Day Challenge, Day 5: Primary Education

I've dabbled in a few different types of yoga, but I always come back to the Ashtanga practice (in which I am currently doing my teacher training). I have good reasons for being an 'ashtangi.' I really love primary series and, more recently, second series. I crave the way primary series opens up the back of my body, and how I feel like I've worked every part of my body by the end of my practice. Second series' ability to open the front of my body feels to me like the other half of the primary series' puzzle. The fact that there are SIX series often blows my mind...


But I think that the real reason I love an ashtanga practice is because I always know what is coming next. It is the same poses, and the same number of breaths, every time I practice. There are no surprises. 


Unless of course, you count today's primary series class. As class was about to begin, our instructor Katie explained that today's class would be conducted in 'mysore' style. 


Mysore is the name of the city in India where ashtanga guru Sri K. Pattabhi Jois lived and taught. Originally, the asana practice led by Jois was not a led class. In fact, the 'led class,' in which we are used to the teacher calling out poses and students following along, is a strictly western tradition. The Mysore style is the traditional variation of ashtanga practice. Students practice at their own pace and level of ability, but in the company of other students and with the encouragement and advice of a teacher.


The fact that today's practice would be Mysore broke my pattern of 'no surprises' in primary series. Even though I know primary series, by switching to Mysore style, my anticipatory tendencies were quickly squashed. I became very nervous, worrying that I would forget the sequence or make a mistake. To ease my anxiety, Katie handed out primary series 'cheat sheets' as a reference tool.


And so we began. With this different style of practice, I encountered different obstacles. For instance I was counting my own five breaths per pose. Funny how five breaths in utkatasana were somehow much quicker than 5 breaths in paschimottanasana...


Without the synchronization with the rest of the class, I was so tempted to skip my vinyasa a couple of times (specifically between sides in the Janu Sirsasanas and Marichyasanas). This is not a temptation I usually encounter in a led class. It was a similar feeling to the one I would get in elementary school when the teacher left the class during seat work. By virtue of the simple fact that she was out of the classroom, I would try to take some sort of shortcut that I would never dare to undertake in her presence.


I was, however, surprised by the fact that my greatest fear-my memory the sequence- turned out to be not so bad. In fact, I think I only looked at the paper once during the second half of the seated series, and once during finishing series. I was pretty impressed by my memory.


Today's practice showed me that an element of surprise in the 'routine' can be a very beneficial experience. It presents new challenges, and helps you to deal with old ones.


Challenges, like the fact that today is day five of the challenge. I feel good, perhaps too good...


But maybe I should just quit the anticipating.

30 Day Challenge, Day 4: Back to Basics

There are certain classes that I usually attend every week. Primary series, second series, and level 2 flows usually make up my weekly schedule.


Rarely, if ever, do I make it out to an introductory class. Usually if I entertain the thought of going, I think about how I should save my energy for second series the following night, or how I am too tired from yesterday's hot level 2. 


I, however, no longer have the luxury of 'taking the night off' and decided to make it out to an introduction to ashtanga class this evening. I decided to have dinner before class (something I never do), because I figured that it would be an easier class. Right?


Wrong. There was no vinyasa. We didn't do one sun salutation. Not even a single downward dog. Then why was it hard, you're asking?


We held our poses for much longer than usual, focused greatly on alignment and concentrated on keeping a strong, steady breath. Using tadasana (mountain pose) as the basis for all other standing poses, keeping our thighs internally rotated and our feet pushing towards the midline of our bodies in the Warriors and lunges made the already challenging poses even more so. 


The use of props and modifications were central to tonight's practice. When I moved into trikonasana using a block, I thought that I would remove it quickly from under my hand and instead place my hand on the floor. I soon realized, however, that using the block was affording me a different experience in triangle pose. I found it more natural to extend through my arms, and focus on squaring my hips. I kept the block where it was.


When we moved into uttitha hasta padangusthasana-my greatest nemesis-, we held onto our knees instead of our big toe as modification. I thought I would quickly switch my grasp from my knee to my big toe. I soon realized that I could work my standing leg far better if I held on to my knee rather than toe, and that I was building a more stable pose. I kept my grasp where it was.


This class, more reminiscent of Iyengar than ashtanga, was a perfect way to reconnect with fundamental poses and their alignment principles.


It was during a plank sequence in the middle of class that I resolved never to eat dinner an hour before an intro class again.

30 Day Challenge, Day 3: The day of rest

After a vigorous flow sequence in the hot room, there is nothing that feels better than taking child's pose and feeling the burst of air that cools the room as the teacher fans the door. Today, regularly resting in child's pose and savasana made a hot, fast-paced class almost relaxing. Almost.


My practice, however, did not start that out that way. As I prepared for class in the change-room, I picked up my bag, full of yoga clothes, in exchange for the dress pants and cardigan that I was wearing. I opened up the Lululemon reusable bag, and was surprised when I saw many more clothing items in there than I remembered. As I took a closer look, I realized that I had selected the incorrect Lululemon bag on my way to class and instead of bringing one containing my yoga clothes, I took the one filled with my dirty laundry. Excellent. 


Luckily I had a pair of clean capris in my car. I had no sports bra or athletic top, thus I was stuck wearing a satin Victoria's Secret bra with a cotton tank top. When I walked into the hot room, I was convinced I already felt uncomfortable in my clothing. As a result, I could not sit still before class, and was fidgeting all over my mat. 


The perfect remedy for my restlessness was a savasana to begin the class. Throughout the Hot Level 1 class, which was a challenging flow, we regularly met in child's pose, savasana, and lying on our stomachs. (It's much easier to relax and stay still when you're exhausted.) 


While these restorative poses were a welcomed instruction, I was thrown off by a mid-class savasana. Following the completion of our standing poses, we moved into the relaxation pose. 


Savasana?! I look down at where my watch usually sits. 


There's no way an hour has already gone by, I thought to myself, Well, maybe it has... That was a lot of vinyasa... Should I close my eyes? ... Did the lights just dim, or is it just my imagination... So, are we staying here? Or maybe we'll be doing some seated positions? Dammit, someone tell me what to expect next!


Huh. Talk about anticipation. I was able to relax in all of the child's poses we had taken, but a savasana in the middle of class completely confused me. I was so familiar with savasana being synonymous with 'final pose,' that I could not relax when it took place in the middle instead. 


While I was worrying about what would come after this half-time surprise, I was caught off guard when we left savasana for a hip-opener. I didn't even have a chance to enjoy it! I was too busy worrying about what was next to come to receive the full benefits of the pose.


I acknowledged it, and focused on finding mindfulness in the rest of my poses. When class finished, and I took my real final savasana, I was able to lie still and did my best to live in the moment.


Following 'namaste' I looked down at my shirt and dress bra. I was soaked right through, was throughly uncomfortable, and had not noticed a thing until then. 


I guess my focus isn't as bad as I thought it was, after all.

30 Day Challenge, Day 2: The hips don't lie

It's the second day of the 30 day challenge and, being a Saturday, my options are limited to morning classes. Given that on a typical Saturday I usually join the living closer to midday snack time than to breakfast, I was none too pleased when my phone, possessed by its alarm, began furiously convulsing at 8:45am. 


I made it to the 10am Ashtanga Flow 1 class around 15 minutes early and, after playing car-tetris in the parking lot for a few minutes, I parked in front of the restaurant that shares the parking lot with the studio. I made my way into the ashtanga room, where we proceeded to play mat-tetris for the next ten minutes. 


I am sure that not everyone feels this way (and this has been a much more difficult sentiment to find in the hot room), but I love when a class is nice and full. Today, there was very little space between mats and I think I saw a woman kick the man behind her in the face during one-legged downward dog. I'm fairly certain it was her husband. 


Despite some of the unavoidable struggles that come with decreasing mat-proximity, I have personally found that there are some great benefits.


One of my greatest mental struggles in yoga has always been fixing my gaze, and avoiding looking at others in the class. Yes, it is true that I was once an addicted practitioner of "watch-asana," but I have gradually worked towards keeping my focus on my mat. While I have been recovering from overexerting myself in watch-asana, I've found that the easiest environment for me in which to relapse is a small class. When there are only two or three people in the class along with me, it is not very difficult to see what others are doing. If I become fixed on someone else during a class, I inevitably compare my pose to theirs and lose focus of what I am trying to do. 


I have found, however, that the larger the class size, the less I look at others. There are just too many bodies to focus on one, and often you are too concerned with ensuring that you're not "sticking your asana in someone's face" (as my teacher Katie reminded us today) to care to stare. 


Once we adjusted to the limited personal space, we began a hip-opening class with the popularly excruciating downward-facing frog. 


Ow. 


I started to feel anxious, and was fairly certain that I was going to pull something far away from where it was supposed to be. My breath quickened, and everything in my body was telling me to get the hell out of that pose. As I pushed into my arms slightly in an attempt to release this nasty little frog, Katie began discussing the hips as emotional storehouses. She explained that we hold a lot of our feelings here, that we should acknowledge those feelings as they arise, and breathe through them.


Huh. I gave it a try. Sure enough, as I kept assuring myself that the anxiety was all in my head, it started to go away. Lunges, one-legged downward dogs, and pigeon after pigeon seemed natural and calming, even though my body was working pretty damn hard. Before I  even knew it, we returned to downward-facing frog. This time was different. Sure, my hips were far more open than they had been at the beginning of class, but I felt infinitely more calm. My breath was strong and steady, and my hips felt strong and capable. As calm as I felt, savasana after blossoming my lotus felt like a dream.


When I returned to the parking lot after class, I was greeted by a hand-written note secured by my windshield wipers that read, 

"Next time you will be tow away" 

I may be able to get into frog, but maybe I should put a little more work into my parking.

30 Day Challenge, Day 1

Following three "oms" and an invocation chant, I swan dive into my first forward bend. My feet move back behind me, and my body travels closer to the earth. I shine my chest towards the faint rays of sun that peek through the clouds and into the windows. My hips move up and away from the earth, and point towards the sky. I am convinced that there is no better way to begin a Friday morning than a full ashtanga primary series class.

I love yoga. I love stretching, I love breathing deeply, and I love the feeling of finding stillness within a vigorous, sweaty practice. 


Do I love it enough to practice 30 times, in 30 days? Truthfully, I don't know if I love anything enough to be able to do it that often. As much as there are these parts of the practice that I love, things like utkatasana (chair pose), utthita hasta padangusthasana (standing forward fold) and being upside down are far more likely to fall into my 'it's not quite love' category.


When I began primary series this morning at 9:30, I did so with a certain sentiment of personal necessity. Last night (day 0, if you will), I did an ashtanga second series practice--my third in eight days. I was craving the forward bending postures of primary series. 


So I did it. 


After my second sun salutation B, as I watched a constant stream of sweat beads attack my mat, I slipped into panic mode. How the hell am I going to do this 30 times before February 13th? Here I am, dripping like a popsicle in global warming, feeling my breath trying to escape my attempts at deep "Ujayi" inhalations and exhalations, and I haven't even made it through the freaking sun salutations!


I acknowledged my panic, and was too agitated to do anything about it until I reached padanghustasana, the first standing pose. This forward bend is a favourite of mine, and as soon as I moved into it I felt my breath fall into place. The sweating slowed a bit, and I felt my facial muscles loosen. After five breaths, my hands slid under my feet for padahastasana and, well, you know the rest. 


Within 30 minutes of beginning day 1, I  survived my first 30-day challenge panic attack. This is going to be one interesting month.