May 13, 2009

  • Maybe Now IS The Right Time To Take Up Yoga?

    Last week found me hitting a couple of emotional rough patches and I realized: I've got no familiar coping mechanisms left. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Before getting preggo, I at least had...options when I need a blow off steam.

    I need a smoke.
    It used to be easy to make a quick getaway from the daily stresses of work. Did someone say "Smoke break?!"  When I first hit the scene among the world of the working, I regularly took my two-15's to catch a cig with my fellow smoker peers.

    Having long since quit smoking now, I now claim to essentially take my breaks at my desk, what with one form of social networking or another I find myself engaging in throughout the day.  But in looking ahead at my schedule, it seems that I will be spending the greater part of 16 hours per day sitting on my badonk.  Which, at that rate and left to its own devices, will balloon to a full-fledged badonkadonk. And I'm not talking the "oooh, you could soooo be in rap videos" hot kind of booty. Uh-uh.

    So I turned over a new leaf Monday.  I brought my sneakers to work and at 10:00 a.m., I put them on and went out for a smoke, er...walk.  And I went again today.  The only thing that might get in my way are these pesky allergies of mine.

    I need a drink.
    This used to always be my go-to coping mechanism. Shitty day? Let's grab a beer after work! Shitty week? Let's go get plowed on Friday! And no matter how many times someone tries to tell me that a club soda and lime is just as good as a Red Bull and Raspberry Stoli, it will never, ever be true.

    So I started trying to let loose on the dance floor with my club soda and lime. But that option is becoming much less of an option.  You know, seeing as how no one really wants to see a big ol' preggo lady dancing at their local neighborhood bar.  I mean, really.  I might still have a few short weeks left to take this route. That is, if I can even muster the energy to make it out to the bar weekends.

    I so need a triple bypass burger and a chocolate whatever.
    Ah, food. My oldest and dearest of companions. Why do you now betray me in my emotionally fragile state? No longer can I turn to you for solace, without the reflux of consequence burning soon after. Damn thee disgestive changes and damn thee GERD.

    These coping mechanisms sound more like self-destructive escape mechanisms.
    Touch

    é.  But after nearly 32 years, I can only posit that these unconventional methods have done a decent job at helping me cope.

    So...why now suddenly?
    I can't say that I have actually ever tried yoga. In fact, it has always sorta repulsed me. I had a Pilates instructor who integrated some aspects into her training. And I've read Idiot's Guide to Yoga, but that's the extent of it. Oh, unless you count the 30 seconds that I once watched it on FitTv.

    The reason why it has always "repulsed me" is all in my head.  You see, I have this mind. And it's pretty...active.  You could say that this mind has, well, a mind of its own. Metaphorically speaking.  My beautiful mind doesn't like to shut down on command. So it won't. And at times, this caused me trouble in that Pilates class. And it drove me crazy.

    But it's clear to me now that i've come to a crossroads. I have to learn anew what to do to take care of my emotional needs.  So maybe it's the best time to take on my mind in head-to-head battle. A yoga-off, if you will.  Besides, who's in control here?!

    Um, right.