I just finished my fourth day of “Thirty days of Yoga with Adriene” and I am finding that I love it. Husband and I are amazed at what are bodies are able to accomplish after only four days of practice. We still have problems though because we didn’t understand two of the shoulder stretches and we continue to have wardrobe malfunctions. It is okay because we are at home so there is no embarrassment but it is quite annoying.
First off, my husband’s pants kept falling down. It is so cute to me his pale cheeks glowing in the darkness of my living room, if not distracting. It annoyed him to no end. He just let it stay down but our apartment is pretty cold. After the work out I was teasing him because he had a striped pattern on his buttocks from the yoga mat. I however didn’t apparently have the concentration to keep from pulling up my pants which would fall down every time I did downward dog. It wouldn’t uncover my butt, it was my tummy. My pants would go down leaving my large white belly swinging in the breeze. Not only that, but my boobs were almost suffocating me because the bra I was wearing wasn’t very good. So I kept having to maneuver them this way and that in between poses. Downward dog, which we kept coming back to, wasn’t as enjoyable as usual. I was trying out an outfit that I thought might work on the outside.
See I usually do my yoga in pajamas. I can’t do yoga on the pier in my pajamas. Even if I could it wouldn’t be that comfortable since they do yoga on the pier in the summer and all my pajamas are fairly warm. (Husband is pretty insistent on keeping the apartment artic cold.) Going to do yoga at the pier is one of the things I have promised myself as a reward for trying more difficult poses and longer yoga work outs. I would love to meet other people who love yoga as much as I do because my family and friends are sick of me talking about it. I would love to be around other people who can tell me if I am doing things right, and HELLO it is doing yoga on the pier. I mean I love the water, and I love yoga. It seems like the nexus of joy.
I don’t think I’ll get to do it this year because I have nothing to wear, and finding something in my price range, in my size seems near impossible.
I have been able to really embrace yoga as an exercise, but nothing more than that. I’ve been adding yoga feeds to my Facebook and Instagram. Yoga magazines and Yogis are almost consistently positive and usually educate me on being a better human. I enjoy that because I am always striving to be calmer, and more helpful to other humans. Also it is extremely dark on social media, and a dark time for all this year. I need inspiration just to keep from sitting around depressed. What I didn’t count on were the countless articles and ads that show me clothing I can’t have. Continue reading Questions about the Yoga Community
So much of my life is built around distracting from my endometriosis pain right now. I watch TV or listen to music while reading. If I engage my mind enough then I can ignore the pain. It is only partially successful.
I realized, as I walked to the library, that distraction is how I’ve always gotten through exercise. I don’t like to sweat. It is uncomfortable, although I am working on that distaste. Exercise has always caused pain in my ankles and I’ve never been good at it. Today, I walked in the heat as fast as I could manage to the beat of my Lady Gaga Pandora channel. I used the beat of Pitbull’s Shake Senora to move faster and faster. By the time I made it to the library I was dripping with sweat and my pants were sticking to me. If there were such a thing as tiny men, they could have slid down my cleavage like a slip and slide.
This is in total contrast to my yoga experience. Every move in yoga has to be thoughtfully carried out. For one, my balance, as it stands, is horrible. Some of the poses require me to be on one foot or one knee. I have trouble with standing on two feet or balancing on both knees. I am learning and practicing over and over, but seriously have to concentrate. I have to feel every part of my body and muscles I didn’t know existed. Normally when exercising, I would try to ignore pain in my muscles or work through it, using the adage “no pain, no gain” or more likely I’d give up. With Yoga, if there is pain—I am doing something wrong. Not only do I have to concentrate on my muscles, hand and foot placement, and balance, but then there is the breathing. Yoga just isn’t the same without the breathing. The deep breathing brings in a sense of calm that I have never experienced with other exercise.
It amazes me the contrast. I love the difference. I believe that is why I love yoga. I love how I can totally immerse myself in the activity. I breathe in and out slowly and deeply. I free my mind of anything that doesn’t have to do with the pose at hand. When it is really good and I have focused enough towards the end of the practice I am more aware of what my body is doing than I have ever been. By focusing intensely on what I am doing and making sure it feels good. There is gain with no pain. Don’t get me wrong I feel strain on my muscles but I don’t feel pain.
I have always ignored my body because I have been told no pain no gain. I wasn’t very good at sports because of my bad ankles, and I was never the type of body I wanted. I got told repeatedly by society, my family, and even “friends” I was the wrong body type. When I repeatedly fail at something, I tend to forget about trying it again. I have hated my body because of what it could not do. It could not be good at aerobics, softball, or volleyball. Even worse, It could not be skinny. Don’t get me wrong, it was thin at one time, just not the thin that was popular in my youth. It was curvy thin. I hated it. I wanted to be the woman who could wear pleated pants and poufy shirts a’ la Different World. I wanted to be Lisa Bonet.
I surely didn’t want to be me, with my curves and very strong muscled legs. I wanted to be like a reed in the wind. Then I became known for my curves and then abused because of them, and then I wanted to be a bulldozer, not a human. So more and more I retreated into this body, and wore it like a coat, a covering for my soul but not something that affected my soul. IF I could distance myself from my body then I would not be responsible for it or how it made other people think about me. I thought I’d focus on what I was good at, reading.
Recently, I have distanced myself so far from my body because it seemed mean to me: the pain my body brings me, the interruption to my day, and pushback of my goals. My body has been a bitch for quite a long time. (While some of that has been caused by me ignoring her, most of it hasn’t. Endometriosis can’t be exercised away. It can only be burned away or excised by a doctor). Trust me it wasn’t hard to get mad at my body.
Yoga has helped me to forgive her. Yoga has helped me see that this body people made fun of, that wasn’t good at sports, had weak ankles and poor balance – even she could be loved. At first yoga was another distraction from the pain but as I got into it, and as I started awakening the understanding of my bodies minutiae it started easing the pain. I started to realize that just like any love I had to actively participate in the caring for the object of my affection in order for it to thrive. Those balance issues are still there, but it works my ankles and they are getting stronger. I am so aware of my body, I can tell when I am going to start sweating. I feel the heat from within and I welcome it. For the first time in my life I welcome the sweat. What’s more is that the first time I did it, I was really bad at it, but the more I practiced –miraculously- I got better. For the first time in my life I got better at exercise. Each pose takes time to master, but when success comes I am overwhelmed with gratitude for my body.
It is only recently through yoga and my families help have I been able to figure out a way to celebrate what my body is capable of. I am super stretchy, more than the average bear. My body likes yoga, it craves it. I am a good swimmer. I am a good dancer, with a natural rhythm. My legs are super strong. I ride bicycles with ease. I am double jointed in my fingers, I do a mean downward dog, and I am working my way up to hour long yoga sessions. I am resilient. I fail at these poses but keep trying. I am able to heal pretty easily if I take care of my body. I am finally able to see what a miracle is my body.
About a month ago I went to visit my family in my native state of Oklahoma. I was inspired by my family to move more and to enjoy the simpler things that I sometimes ignore. My family is extraordinary and every time I am around them it is as if I have been given new life. Sometimes it reaffirms who I am. Being away from my home state for so long sometimes allows me to forget what I have inherited and how deep those Okie roots run: the laid back sense of humor, master story telling, and the vein of gumption that runs through all of us.
It’s that tenacity and live wire like energy that is contagious. Inspiration to move and accomplish the physical is everywhere.
In the mornings Mom and I would do our perspective exercises. She does a video by Gilad, a very handsome, bulging, swarthy man. She’s done various videos of his for years. I don’t enjoy the aerobic videos so I went over to the corner and played my Pandora music channel and did yoga. This concurrent clashing music didn’t even bother us. At one point we discussed how this could be a metaphor for our relationship. I said it is funny how we clearly like different things but still hang out because we love each other so much.
I was encouraged to walk by my sister Katie because she walks everywhere. We trekked all over the OSU campus before I had to take my shoes off and sit until someone brought the car to me. My feet were done but she was still going. I feel after 40 you shouldn’t have to suck it up.
My brother and his wife have a handsome five year old son named Caleb and he inspired everyone to get physical. Katie and I even risked and failed at cartwheels. That family spends most evenings outside in the sun after dinner riding bikes or watching Caleb ride his big wheels up and down the driveway. I got to ride bikes, slide down slides, fight imaginary wolves and run through the park. Caleb and I even had a session of yoga together. That was so fun. There are these children’s yoga videos on YouTube, and he loves them. A fifteen minute video story of going to an amusement park with a Hispanic penguin had me sweating!
While some of these attempts didn’t work out so well (one slide left me with a swollen and bruised thumb, another with two skinned knees, the cartwheel left me with a slightly sprained ankle, and I also got kicked in the head more than once while rough housing,) the fun that I had was more than worth it. I will never forget this trip because I learned I miss being playful. It is absolutely the best exercise. I miss that idea that my body is here so I might as well see what it can do. Seeing what my body is capable of is an activity I have neglected and it is actually fun. My new fitness goals are: being able to perform a cartwheel, AND get enough arm strength to walk only on my hands while someone holds my feet by the time I go back to Oklahoma. We tried it this time. While I could hold my brothers legs while he walked the living room, I couldn’t quite walk on my hands. I will though mark my words. I am doing planks every day. If I can walk on my hands then maybe there is even a handstand in my future! Now that is exciting! Won’t my nephew be so proud of Aunt Danielle?
It has been a really long road but I am back. I am sorry for not posting sooner but I have been really sick. It all started when I got back from Oklahoma. I was pretty hopeful. I had my biopsy scheduled and Oklahoma was a very active. I will publish a blog about it later. I was excited. The next week I went in for an endometrial biopsy. They had to put me under. They started with this twilight stuff that put me under but I was still kind of awake. I guess when they started the biopsy I got a little out of control so they had to put in a tube down my throat. Apparently the twilight stuff doesn’t work on me because I may have been combative. I didn’t really know the extent until later in the day because I was sore everywhere and my chin started to swell. By swell I mean my normally minimal double chin turned into a quadruple chin. I couldn’t swallow and it hurt to move my tongue.
I called my doctor and she didn’t seem to think it was anything big. She said everyone gets a little swelling. The next day I woke up having even more trouble swallowing and I could barely walk I was so sore. We went to the ER around three pm, and waited and waited. We didn’t leave until 2 am the next day after they took blood, ran a CT scan, and several doctors poked around my chin and inside my mouth under my tongue. Come to find out I had a salivary stone and it was infected. It was so weird. I mean a couple hours after the biopsy it just swelled so fast. Apparently it can happen when they put a tube down your throat but its super rare. All the docs kept saying, “I’ve never seen this before.”
Great, right? Everyone wants the doc to be surprised. I just kept asking, “My face will not stay this way right?” I mean I can deal with the natural double chin, cause that one is my fault but this, this was ridiculous. It took four days of steroids and antibiotics before the infection broke and it started to ooze puss into my mouth. I am sure I don’t have to explain how walking around with a make shift spittoon and spitting yellow salty liquid was unpleasant. It took an additional two days of spitting and hurting to finally get my face back and to be able to move my tongue and jaw without pain. I was amazed at my face in the mirror. I feel so much more beautiful than I did before. I will never complain about my fat face again.
I went to the ENT and got a good bill of health only to come down with a sinus infection the next day. I have been stuffed up and miserable for over a week now. Not only have I been sick for a month, but I’ve had several family members going through crises that I can’t explain. I hate that I am so far away from my family and it is difficult to watch them go through so many painful things.
Then the nation went through a horrible painful event. My thoughts are with Orlando now. I feel just as helpless to help them as my family. Between the stress, sadness, and sickness I have been down and out. I am sure this week I am not the only one. Over and over this tragedy has made me think about all the loved ones I have lost due to intolerance and hatred. I am definitely grieving for these families.
It is hard to handle everything so I am focusing on trying to get well right now, because it is all I can do. This morning I was able to breathe through my nose so I made a smoothie and eggs with mushrooms us and then I did some yoga. I researched an anti-inflammatory diet and started a journal in order to get everything off my mind. Right now this is all I can handle.
I urge everyone reading this to take care of your health physical and mental. This world is getting more horrible everyday it seems if you watch the news and read the internet. Sometimes I have to turn it all off and just be mindful of how I am truly blessed. I hope that helps you too. If you have to, if it is depressing you, just step away. It is okay. I have to do it sometimes. Lean on whatever gives you strength. For me that is prayer, my husband and my family and friends. I also meditate and do yoga. What gives you strength during this horrible time?
I’ve been oblivious when it comes to the struggles that my plus size sisters have been through, for the most part. I have been told in my life that I am like a puppy. I come into the room bouncing and jump on everyone’s lap thinking they are all gonna love me. This is true, and is why I have been mostly shielded from the body shaming, but also I kind of don’t put up with it. I have written about when someone tries to criticize me I shut them down pretty quickly in a calm way that usually makes them understand how stupid they are for assuming they can tell me what to do with my body. I am pretty good at that, while still not alienating them. It’s a talent, perhaps I’ll teach you later.
I still see the forest for the trees however. I see how the media and our culture permeates everything with a — be slim or be outcast — shade. I don’t know anyone who has not noticed the glamour-ification of thin. To that end, I am so happy about the body positive movement.
On a large scale people are getting it wrong, even those who should know better. Shape Magazine’s Editor’s letter this month talks about body confidence. She talks about how “ninety one percent of women have body dissatisfaction” and “When you feel good about yourself you take care of yourself.” All right, that’s good stuff, but then she says, “Of course loving your shape doesn’t negate the need to have body goals: those targets keep you motivated and excited about staying fit and healthy. But there’s freedom in focusing and articulating those goals. If the vision of slimming down and feeling amazing in a bikini or a slinky sundress works for you use it…” That’s fine and even true, but if you are trying to push a body confidence message then you have missed the point. The point of the body confidence movement is that we should feel beautiful and confident as we are. Also, by not knowing how ridiculously not body confident that is reeks of co-opting a movement in order to sell magazines.
Women we need to stop being so critical of each other. We need to lift each other up. I think that is what my idea of body confidence is. I don’t think it is wrong to use a bikini as a goal, but if we are talking about body confidence then I want women to be empowered to love how they look right now.
While I’ve always been pretty confident but I can’t say that I have been jumping on the bikini bandwagon. I don’t see me doing that at all. I know other women do it, but it makes me uncomfortable. As I type this I think, I don’t want my flaws out there for everyone to see. I don’t want my stretch marks, lily white belly, and thighs to be shown to other humans. It is an instinct to think of those things as flaws. It is an impression that has been left there by years of socialization. I think back to when I was a young girl in the back yard wearing a bikini in our three foot pool, giggling with my brother, running around in sprinklers and feel as if I have lost something somehow.
I think the main benefit of the body confidence movement is that as a society we are starting to focus less on being slimmer and more on being stronger. Some of the benefits of this is that people who normally would think of themselves as less than are starting to understand how awesome they are. According to many studies it is easier to lose weight if you feel good about yourself. Now there is the crux of a lot of arguments in order to subordinate fat people: Carrying extra weight is unhealthy. Weeeeelllllll….not all who carry extra weight are unhealthy. But if the argument is to be hard on fat people to get them to lose weight, then as you can see that argument is flawed. The constant pressure of society and the degradation of large people only make more large people. It doesn’t help anyone.
I have been focusing on how to make myself stronger and more able. If I do that then I can feel good about myself. If I think “Oh, I wanna fit in this bikini or those tight jeans,” that means my body is not right how it is now. That makes me feel horrible. I am a capable human with a body that heals itself, all I have to do it give it a little push to move the healing along. If we as society can start there, from that point of view then I think we will get everything we want: healthy hearts and minds and happy souls.
There so many exciting things are happening in my life right now. I am volunteering at the library, getting to know new people, writing more and exercising more. I have not had an episode of pain in two weeks. I am delighted. My husband is relaxed and I am making very small progress on all areas of my life. I am cooking, walking, and stretching a lot more. I am in the zone.
Something that is helping me besides being pain free for two weeks is this new deal I have with myself. If I do not write at least an hour a day, then I have to forgo my modem and give it to my husband to take with him to work. Without the router I have no internet and no TV because we have no cable. So I have nothing to research with while writing or entertain me while I clean. This is an even bigger motivator to jump start myself than the writing I am already doing. Once I get writing I get more excited about the writing. So this is just a jump start to get the fingers moving! It has worked. This week I have written every day.
I have also met my pedometer goal every day and done yoga three times. I even tried to do a yoga video called Power Yoga with Rodney Yee. Rodney Yee is a yoga instructor born in my native state of Oklahoma. (I just found that out!) He is a very handsome man who apparently only owns pants. These pants are made of spandex and are usually neon colors. I like his calm voice and dulcet tones, but I think I want to branch out. I think that I need something called Half Power because I had a lot of trouble doing those yoga moves so quickly. Downward dog –Upward dog — Downward dog –Upward dog — Downward dog –Upward dog — Downward dog –Upward dog — Downward dog –Upward dog…sweaty sweaty sweaty sweaty but I was done when he got to Half-moon pose and fell over because my knee didn’t like it very much. So I stopped but was proud of myself for attempting and making it about half way through. It’s been a long time since I even put in an exercise DVD. Actually I think last time I put a video in it was a VHS tape.
I am also cooking more so my husband and I are eating fresh vegetables and fruits. I got back into making smoothies and eggs with veggies for breakfast. Leftovers for lunch and for dinner I am cooking fresh salads, veggie filled pastas and I make delicious veggie tacos. I am not saying I haven’t had weird pizza roll dinners once or twice but I have been making great strides to getting my healthy habits back.
It feels like I am just bragging in this post but I feel as if I must after what I have been through lately. I am now looking forward to progressing but more importantly, the most encouraging development is coming back to the program feels inevitable. If I have to put my exercise plan on hold for a month because of pain and there be no doubt I will get back to it when I feel better, then that means I am officially a person who works out. It am not a poser. I am the real deal.
I have been very angry. The kind of angry that just has to burn itself out because it has no release valve. I know that God is teaching me something I don’t fully understand, and I can’t promise it won’t be the last time I have to learn it. Over and over again I am reminded that I have no control over certain aspects of my life. I have no control over my uterus and ovaries and their near constant assault on my life. I have no control over my doctors and their ability to relate to how much pain I am in, and very little control in what steps they will offer to relieve this pain. I have no control over how my loved ones react to my inability to accomplish my responsibilities. Worst I have no control over when the pain comes so plans are almost near impossible. I’ve been stewing on these things because I’ve not only been plagued by the normal endometriosis and adenomyosis pain but I got sick with pneumonia for a while. When I was in pain and also sick, I had time to soak in my anger and sadness. I didn’t have a lot of brain power to tell myself how lucky I am or figure out a way to make myself feel better about my predicament.
Sadly, my anger lasted a lot longer than the sickness. I get a little unreasonable when I am stuck in 700 square feet for more than a month. The only place I could go was the doctor’s office, and of course that was dreary. Also, coming out of one of these episodes feels like recovering after an ugly storm hits. Luckily I survived but now I have to rebuild. Working in a creative field takes a certain frame of mind, and the intermittent pain interrupts the process because I can’t think. So when the storm clears I have to get back my mojo so to speak. Not only that, but I have to go back and reread what I previously wrote and think about how to continue from there. The really messed up part is just when I am ramping up to start writing again, then I get another tornado of pain.
It is a mad rush to get up to speed and then try to make progress in all areas of my life. I have been trying to lose weight for years and that is another problem. I have been doing yoga and walking, but after this episode I had to start all over. I was up to three miles three times a week and three yoga sessions. After the episode I had to start all over and was having trouble doing the seven blocks to the library and the twenty scant minutes of yoga. It is like my body resets back to slack ass mode as a default. My lungs get smaller, my legs get weaker, and I lose all the stretch I have gained in my yoga practice.
I am thinking about how often this happens to me and it still grates on me. I know I am lucky. I have a great life other than this: a loving, fantastic and sexy husband, a deeply close lovable family, and friends that would give their ovaries if it meant I’d have no more pain. Bitching about this part of my life doesn’t feel right somehow. I feel guilty for being so upset, but a friend set me straight.
It’s okay to mourn not just for the loss of progress, but the lost time in my life. I miss out on time with all those people I love, and joy and discoveries while I am in so much pain. It isn’t just the progress I am making on my goals to be regretted; I am missing valuable experiences and moments. Time I won’t get back. I wish that I could just bounce back from these episodes as resilient as my fellow Oklahomans do after their storms. A high expectation but I still wish I could be stronger. What I wish is not really relevant because I still have to figure out a way to move on.
Unfortunately that means that I need to allow myself to just be upset so that I can move on. If I don’t just realize that I am going to have these feelings and not feel guilty about it then I can deal with the feelings and move on. This is my reality for now… Mourning it is okay. Feeling shitty about how my body has rebelled on me is natural and inevitable. For now I will have to just realize this is my life now. I will be going through this over and over again until I get help. I need to go with it and realize that rebelling against my feelings is just a waste of more time, and beating myself up about my feelings only gives me another reason to feel bad.
Part of what I am learning the more I go through this process in culmination with more and more yoga is how to be more kind to myself. Regretting that I am not stronger or what I have or haven’t done is not only a waste of time, it is mean. I am literally being mean to myself. It is like self-torture akin to pushing your own cuticles back but more insidious. I am as strong as I need to be to live and to get back up after being down and out for a month and that is a feat in itself. As a woman I was taught to be durable, as an American – resilient, and as an Okie – never to complain but sometimes those three things together make life harder than it is. Sometimes misery needs to be vented and recovery time taken. Rather than over and over pointing out what I can’t do or what qualities I like, perhaps it would be best to acknowledge how hard things truly are and that surviving is enough. My husband says, “Hey, you bled for a month and didn’t die-that’s extraordinary.”