I went to 6am yoga on Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday, and at some point in the middle of Wednesday night woke up and decided to turn off the alarm for Thursday morning yoga. I marginally regretted it throughout Thursday so that night I very carefully planned Friday 6am yoga, since I had an appointment at 8am. I prepared yoga kit, work clothes to change into, breakfast to grab, all my morning pills (I have to take a LOT of pills) in a little dish by the door with a glass of water so I could do it all in record time — I had it all rehearsed.
Then I forgot that my 5am alarm had been switched off, and woke up at 6:20 with some serious grumpyface.
My 8am appointment was with the psychologist. I was already full of rage at the world for depriving me of my morning yoga, and angry that I had to go to this stupid appointment. I angried my way there and waited, angrily. Of course it turned out to be a really fantastic session (about my anger) and I came out really glad I had attended.
Among other things, we discussed how Bikram helps me placate the rage inside of me, and how to cope when I can’t go for whatever reason (injury, time, location etc.). She suggested I run through each posture in my head, a sort of virtual yoga, and so on the tram to work, I pulled up a doodle app on my phone and drew each posture. It was such a soothing exercise that I almost missed my stop. I feel very reassured to have this option, given I won’t be able to practice when we’re traveling around Taiwan (although I am planning to visit the Taipei Bikram studio and do a class in Chinese).
Anyway, I was determined I would NOT miss Friday 6pm. I tried to get out of work 10 minutes early, but ultimately my tram connection betrayed me and the 75 just WOULD. NOT. COME. When it eventually turned up, the traffic was bad, and I was practically jumping up and down with frustration waiting to get off the tram at 5:47. I ran home, grabbed my yoga bag, ran to the studio, pulled my clothes off, and discovered I hadn’t packed my costume (of course, it was at the end of my bed). I dressed again, ran home and back, changed, and dashed to the room already soaked with sweat. I tried not to get ragey about the two girls whispering behind me (NO TALKING IN THE HOT ROOM!) and then a man walked in fully dressed including town shoes so he could put down his mat and towel (NO SHOES IN THE ENTIRE STUDIO GOD DAMN IT IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK etc. etc.) and promised myself I would not let anger distract me from my class.
My costume misadventure meant the teacher remembered my name. And boy did she use it. Over and over. “Rosie, suck your stomach in” “Rosie, spine straight!” “Rosie, higher on your toes” “Rosie, lock your knee, lock it, really lock it” “Rosie, shoulders down”… I know that sounds defeating but I *love* getting corrections from teachers. I love it when they tell me I’m doing it wrong. And I so pushed myself like crazy tonight, even though it was such a struggle. No anger there!
I was so exhausted at the end, and in the change room one of the other students commented on how intense the class had been. I agreed and said “Yeah… I’m Rosie, so…” and she laughed “Oh man, the whole class I was thinking this Rosie is really getting it tonight!”.
No rage. Also, I’ve stuck to the FODMAPS elimination diet for three consecutive days and feel so much better for it. There’s no way I can follow it while James is here or when travelling, but I am committed to doing it properly very soon.