A philosophical exercise

Yoga:

1: (capitalized) a Hindu theistic philosophy teaching the suppression of all activity of body, mind, and will in order that the self may realize its distinction from them and attain liberation

2: a system of exercises for attaining bodily or mental control and well-being

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Before we had kids, I was a runner.  Not a marathoner or anything, but I ran.  Every day, like a religion, I tied up my running shoes and hit the pavement, treadmill, whatever.  After I ran, I would do sit ups and lift weights like my life depended on it.  I was in pretty good shape, but despite all this running, lifting, sitting up, I felt like there was something lacking.

 

These days I still find time to run occasionally, but not nearly as often as before kids.  But I've discovered something else.  A friend of mine teaches yoga and she invited me to a class.   (Check her out here:  http://mikoyoga.com/  She's amazing.) Before her classes my only exposure to yoga had been a semester-long class I took my senior year of college with a bunch of friends.  I was no yogi, by any means.

 

Since her class, I've been stronger, fitter, and more at peace than I have ever been.  Not only is yoga an exercise, it's this type of mental relief that I haven't found anywhere else.  I can't wait until our retreat in a few weeks.  The retreat is going to be awesome!

 

Plus getting these compliments on my arms isn't bad either.

Starbucks?

I have a special love for caffeine. I wish I didn't. But I cannot deny my deep, DEEP appreciation for caffeinated beverages. Coffee, soda (especially diet soda - complete with its terrible terrible chemicals), tea... It doesn't matter. I love these beverages from the bottom of my little overcaffeinated heart. However, this is becoming a problem. How did I realize this, you might ask? It was the moment when I realized that I had approximately $5.17 in cash, was in the drive-through line at Starbucks on the way to work, and was feeling particularly frugal and wanting to spend no more money than I had in cash. Oh, and I was starving. STARVING. I don't care that it was 6:14 am. I'd been up for over an hour and I was ready to break the fast. Regardless, I decided that I really wanted a nonfat caramel macchiato in as large a size as possible (venti). What's not to love about caramel and coffee and milk all mixed together in frothy goodness? I also really really want a butter crossoint. I know that a butter crossoint is not good for me. Well, it's full of butter and carbs and well, that's it really. No protien. No substance. Delicious, however, and the perfect compliment to a giant cup of steamy caramel-y coffee. I quickly realize the whatever money I have (which I promise is around $5.17 but I cannot be entirely exact on that amount) is not going to cover the largest coffee possible AND the crossoint I want to eat for breakfast. At this point, normal people may opt to choose a smaller size of coffee and/or use a plastic card to procure their wares. Me, however, I've set my mind to paying in cash. And I've also set my mind on this giant GIANT cup of coffee. (Please disregard the cup of coffee my Keurig made for me at approximately 5:17 am - it no longer counts.) I want this crossoint. WANT. STARVING. Stomach *growls*. I rationalize with myself that I cannot get coffee (*good coffee*) at work and I have things to eat at my desk (almonds, cans of soup, tuna fish). I abandon my breakfast plan so I can still get the giant coffee and pay in cash. To all my coworkers who suffered through the smell of smokehouse almonds at 6:45 am - I'm sorry. My caffeine needs overruled my desire for pastry. That is why I was eating aromatic (*stinky*) almonds at the crack of dawn. I hope you all can understand.

Jillian and Bob would have a heart attack

Since we had N, E and I have had to change our extracurriculars a bit. No longer to we just head out to do whatever on any given weeknight all willy-nilly. Since N goes to sleep at about 7 pm, we've got to pretty much stick around the house. We've improvised.

Today we're watching the new season of The Biggest Loser.

And also we're eating Papa John's. Lots of Papa Johns.

And some ice cream.

Jillian would have my head.

Happy Mother's Day

We all remember I wanted a treadmill for getting back to fit after Nathan arrives. (TUESDAY! I can't believe it!) Well, for Mother's Day E purchased for me the fantabulous NordickTrack Commercial ZS model from Costco. I'm kind of in love with it. The deck feels as wide as the ones at 24 Hour Fitness and I can't wait to actually jog on it. It even comes with a iFit plugin thing, so you can get workouts with a "personal trainer" to get you back into shape, help you increase your speed, or help you prepare for a marathon. It all sounds great. Currently it's awaiting my sneakered feet upstairs in our family room. I can't wait to put it to good use.

One interesting feature - it has a way of keeping track of all the miles ever put on it and all the time it's ever been used. Seems like that might be interesting a few years from now.

Thanks E! I love it!

Exercise lust

Before my pregnancy, I was something of an excercise junkie. I really enjoyed a good run before work. It was early, it was hard, and it pretty much prepared me for whatever the day had to throw at me. After a few months of trying to run while developing a belly filled with baby, I threw in the towel. It was just too painful.

Now that we're nearing the end of the pregnancy, I find myself wondering how difficult it will be to get to the gym after the baby is born. Somehow, I feel like this is going to be a next-to-impossible task. Despite what I've learned from the biggest loser about how I'm supposed to make time for this and all that, I'm suspect that getting to the gym will be super difficult.

So instead of going to the gym, I have decided that aquiring a treadmill for home use is the perfect answer to my problem. In my delusional mind I believe that if my treadmill is here, I could run and whatnot while the baby sleeps. Don't tell me that I'm going to be so exhausted that anytime the baby sleeps I'll be sleeping. Don't tell me that I'm not going to have the energy to exercise. Let me lust after my treadmill and imagine myself getting back into pre-pregnancy shape all the while having a chubby, happy son cheering me on. It's a nice dream. Plus, Costco sells a treadmill. A nice-ish one. I like to think it will work out. We'll see...

Stability

Apparently when you're preggers you're supposed to lose your ability to balance, and for anyone as clumsy as I am, this notion is terrifying. In an effort to stave off the fact that I'm quickly growing top heavy, I head to the gym and always visit the stability discs. I like these little discs, because they make me feel like I'm doing something interesting. Plus, no one else seems to use them unless their trainer is with them, so typically there's no wait. The notion of the discs is simple. You stand on one with one foot, and do something with your other leg. My old trainer particularly liked to make me stand on a disc and kick the other leg out in front or behind me. So this is what I do on the disc, even now.

As we saw in my last post, the fact that I am with child is no longer something I can hide from the world. So there I am, in all my big belly glory, running, lifting, and perhaps most histerically, balancing. At least, these things all seem funny in my head. Today I had a nice man come up to me as I was putting the disc away and congratulate me. First for the baby, second for the ability to balance. He pointed out that he'd never been able to balance on a disc, and he didn't even have a growing belly to blame.

We'll see just how capable I am at these discs a month from now.

Flushed!

This morning started like any morning - wake up too early and in a bleary mix between sleep and awake, throw on appropriate exercise attire and head to the gym before work. This is in an effort to keep myself healthy and fit, not because I really LOVE seeing 5 am.

The item shown above is an essential part of my gym paraphernalia. As important as my water bottle and my towel, my iPod shuffle keeps me entertained whilst attempting to not stare and the ridiculously top-heavy guy next to me and wondering how I can make my shoulders look like that lady's. Not her. HER. Oh, wait, I meant while working out. I love the little shuffle. I wear it clipped to my shorts, completely out of the way.

In addition to being completely out of the way, clipped to my shorts is also, apparently, a very dangerous place to be when I have to take my last bathroom break before heading out in the morning. This morning the little shuffle lost it's vice-like grip on my shorts and went tumbling headfirst right into the drink. That's right - potty 1, shuffle, 0.

Seeing as how no actual potty activity had taken place, I fished it out and let it dry over the duration of the day, fearing the worst. However, amazingly enough, it works this afternoon. It's a miracle!

This did prompt a series of discussions of just what is your toilet price. What would you abandon in a toilet under what circumstances? I'll say this. Anywhere but my house, I might have let it go. Apparently my toilet price outside of my own home is my beloved iPod shuffle.

Did I hear you correctly?

Tonight I went to a soccer game to meet my new indoor team. I'll start playing with them next week. So tonight, there I am... The Spectator. I'm itching - just itching - to get on the field. Alas, one more week of waiting.

My new team lost, unfortunately, with a score of 3-2. Despite that they all seemed in good spirits when I talked with them after the game. I am thinking, "I have managed to find the team of people who know how to play hard and then let it go after it's over! This is fantastic! I am going to love this!"

Just at this moment two of the women start talking to each other. The one says, "Hey, nice star tattoo. It's cool." The other now says, "Thanks, I had to cover up a prison tat."

Are they serious? Is this a way to induct me into the team? Is she really some hardened criminal turned soccer player? Only time will tell.

Regardless, I get to play soccer next week!

Of treadmills and weight stacks

Hi mister too many cigarettes in the parking lot covered by large quantities of Scope in the locker room guy.

You like the treadmill next to mine?

Really?

Can you even run?

No apparently not.

Love and soccer in Texas

Today I joined a soccer team in Rockwall. Yay! And though I know the teammates shown here and the most awesome ones I will ever encounter in all my years, I'm excited to be on a team again. It will be nice to have scheduled outside time. I can't wait!

People I can't understand at the gym

There are a ton of people at our gym in the afternoon. Most of them, say 90%, are there because they realize not being there has dire circumstances like chubby bellies and a fear of the nearby lake due to the bathing suits is calls for. The smaller minority I just don't understand. Today I got to stand between two sets of people while trying to lift weights. The first are the ridiculously over-tanned men who I'm quite sure oiled themselves up before hitting the gym floor. They have upper bodies that bulge with veins and legs that look like little toothpicks, and because of this they are often seen wearing pants. The two next to me today were very - grunty. On the other side of me were two high school aged girls. These girls, I'm quite certain, did not understand how to use the gym. They mostly stood there and held 5 lb weights in their hands while ogling the high school boy next to them who had just pulled up his sleeves to check out his ginormous biceps (ha) as he did curls.

I just don't understand the gym. Just get in and get out. There's no need for all this oil. Seriously people.