At yoga tonight I was sweating rivers and torrents of sweat (yus, gross, but also fun). Occasionally I would feel huge great pearls go rushing down my back and arms and wonder if it was in fact a small gerbil crawling about on me. But I was hardly shaking at all. And (God you’re pathetic Rosie) not only did the teacher say “very good!” to me THREE TIMES (and I didn’t notice her saying anything to anyone else) she then came to speak to me at the end of the class to say that I had progressed since the last time (which was 2 weeks ago) and that I had very good form today.
Please excuse me whilst I pee myself with joy — not that it will be noticeable as I am already soaked in sweat anyway — because we all know that I live and thrive for one thing only: praise from my teachers. The other day in class we had to discuss whose approval we sought the most, and whilst everyone else mentioned their parents, I had to admit that my mother’s approval is unconditional and my father’s approval is inobtainable, but what really gets me going is my teacher’s smile… Laaaaaame. Ah well, that’s just the way I am.
I then sweated a whole lot more as I struggled to walk home with heavy books, backpack full of too many clothes, yoga mat and bags of bananas, bread and CARROTS, and now I’m hoping to peel myself off the couch and get some grating action on with Karine’s grater… Although my dinner of papaya, guava, apple, pear and cherry tomatoes (which is a fruit here) seems to have filled me up nicely already.
I have these really vague plans to go to uni on Saturday and run track for a couple of kilometres followed by a swim, but now that I have mentioned it on here it probably won’t happen. Still, I’m interested to see how fast I can be on the track, as Rebecca has suggested an all-girl team for a relay marathon (5km each) and seems to think that sub-5-minute kilometres are achievable (actually she mentioned 4-minute kms but I really can’t see that happening). This sounds outrageous to me, but I guess I won’t know unless I try!