31 August 2009

Yoga at home. Or, why on Earth didn't I think of this before?

After roughly six weeks (possibly less, but Jesus, does it seem like more) with only a handful of yoga classes, I finally got the idea tonight to root around in the storage area of my entertainment center to see if I still had the yoga tape I bought many, many years ago and used maybe a couple of times.

Yes, that's right. Yoga tape. It is a VHS tape that I bought sometime prior to 2001. The tape is dated 1994 (I totally had to Google Roman numerals to figure that out, by the way), but I vaguely remember where I lived/worked/worked out when I bought it. So I'm guessing I bought it in 2000, right when I first tried yoga. When I told The Boy I Currently Like about my plan he said, "Yoga 'tape?' Geez--what's up, Grandma." Whatever. Good thing I have a combo DVD/VHS player. Suckers.

My original plan was to do cardio tonight, but my low back is spasming for some reason. I helped KayGee and the Prison Librarian move into their condo on Saturday and I worked out yesterday, but my back wasn't that bad. It's been super tight lately. Apparently, that is where I've been storing my tension instead of in my shoulder/neck area. It's fun to keep things fresh, I think.

Anyway, I might have moved oddly while getting ready this morning or my attempts to stretch my low back out actually backfired and started the spasms. Who knows? All I knew was that I would not be doing anything strenuous.

I spent all fucking day going back and forth with myself about whether or not I'd do anything tonight. I can't have an entire evening free at home. I just can't.

Despite the fact that I am, in theory, trying to lose weight much more slowly than I had been (which is not working, by the way -- and I bought Oreos last week! I ate them, too ... they were reduced fat and I was so stressed out I pretty much didn't eat lunch all week, but still), I feel incredibly guilty about not working out -- even if I'm hurt and I know that walking five miles will quite likely fuck my back up more.


So the yoga-at-home plan seemed to be an acceptable compromise. I'd be doing some sort of physical activity that might also ease my back spasms.

Can I tell y'all -- at-home yoga is pretty fucking sweet. Now, I'd much rather go to a class, but this is a really decent substitute. The tape is dated and some of the Sun Salutation series are a bit odd (lots of back rolls), but all in all, it did the trick. My living room isn't exactly spacious, and I'm a tall woman, so space was a bit funky. Halfway through, I had to turn my mat because I was afraid of nailing my head on the entertainment center and my feet were pushing up against the couch in Downward Facing Dog. Of course, when I moved, I had to be careful not to nail the coffee table that I'd moved when lifting into Three-Legged Down Dog.

But the pluses were many. I wore whatever shit clothes I wanted. I put some lavender oil in my oil burner to calm me, I could fart to my heart's content (it's not nearly as funny when you're alone, but it's still kinda funny), I could talk to myself ... and the best part was Savasana. Being in my own living room made me uber comfortable. So much so that I think I might have been dozing off and when the narrator came back on, I nearly pissed myself I was so startled. Awesome!

Also, my back does feel better. If it's not at least 80 percent tomorrow, I won't feel bad about coming home and doing more yoga. I know enough now that I can take some liberties and do my own thing in many places. It is still nice to have a guide, though. It's also nice to have my outlook on life improve a tiny bit. Yay!


Little Ms Blogger said...

Cool. If you have cable, I know my cable provider has cable on demand - free stuff with yoga.

I love the comment about farting...

Jess said...

I always forget I have that on demand stuff with cable. I shall check it out!

Kimberly said...

Add a little wine or vodka to yoga @ home - and you'll never leave.

Jess said...

Don't think I didn't consider it briefly (okay, longer than briefly) last night.