6 Things I Realized While Doing Yoga This Morning

When I took a post-retirement job part-time, I didn’t predict that I would end up moving into a full-time position within a month. The part-time work had little effect on the “passive” workout routine I had developed in the Time of Covid. I had successfully lost over sixty pounds through movement and diet, was just a short five pounds from my goal weight, and had achieved a peaceful state of mind, both of which I planned to maintain through the same means by which I attained them.

The shift into full-time changed things. It happened at the height of Arizona summer, which meant that in order to do any kind of physical exercise before work I would have to get up at 4 a.m. I wanted to sleep longer. I told myself that it was far too hot after working during the day for me to do it then.

So, I stopped both hula-hooping and my yoga practice.

Food failure

From there it was easy to slip into quick, easy-to-microwave foods, which tend to be high in carbs, sugar, and salt — even if they’re high in protein. In a matter of three months, I gained back twenty of the sixty pounds and was beginning to feel an increase in a few aches and pains that I had succeeded in diminishing by becoming more fit.

Snap!

Sometimes we don’t do anything about the things that bother us until something snaps. That’s what happened this time. I snapped. I reached the end of my personal tolerance for my own lack of success.

I went on a high-protein, low-calorie diet for the week to reboot my metabolism. I forced myself to get out of bed early one day and went through my yoga routine. The next day, I got up and hula-hooped. Then I did it again. Granted, we’re going into fall here in the desert now, so mornings are much more tolerable. That helps.

It’s not really about the weight loss, though. Weight loss is only a part of my plan to grow into a healthy and fit old lady. It’s a side effect of eating right and increasing my activity. It’s also the most obvious reflection of my success. I won’t be going to any gyms — new muscle mass is unlikely. Fitting into my clothing better, well, everyone can see that, including me.

Revelation

This morning as I went through my Sun Salutation, I realized that the negative effects of letting myself slip were more than just the regained weight or the loss of peace of mind. Let me share a list of those negative effects as a warning to those who find themselves in similar straights:

1. My body sounds like popcorn (again) — I had almost forgotten that every joint in my body, including the ones in my feet, rubs together like sticks for kindling when I first get up in the morning. I had actually gotten to a point where those pops and crackles were sporadic. I thought I was cured of everything but the most degenerated of my arthritic deformities. Nope.
2. I’ve turned back into a wonky wind-blown willow when I attempt Vrikshasana — No longer am I a mighty oak for a few seconds on one foot. No, my balance, gained with so much practice, is off. Now I’m more like a tumbleweed just about ready to roll across the barren desert instead of the tree the pose is supposed to suggest.
3. There are tiny holes in my mind where my memory has failed — As I move through my routine, I have flashes here and there of moves I’m leaving out, forgotten in the haze of inactivity. By the second or third repetition some of them have come back, but it’s going to take more than muscle memory to make my routine complete once again. I’ve got to plug those holes in the pasta strainer that is my brain.
4. There’s a donut around my waist — I can see it when I bend over forward — oh, wait a minute! THAT’S why the hula-hoop kept slipping down yesterday morning — I’ve lost the groove I wore into my middle when I was doing things right. That’s all I need, more donuts. Thanks a lot, Suzy!
5. The muscles in my feet, legs, hands, arms, and shoulders are screaming at me like banshees warning of impending death — With every snap and pop of my joints comes a corresponding urge to groan “owwww” and crawl back into bed. The only reason I don’t whine and go pour myself a glass of wine is the desire to avoid an inevitable migraine that would render me even less able to contort into nice muscle-stretching poses other than Savasana — also known as Corpse Pose. Well, as Agatha Christie said, “Death Comes as the End.”
6. I’m moving through syrup — While the ideal movements in my Hatha Yoga practice should be slow and graceful, this is something else. It’s lumbersome and impeded by an unwieldy heaviness. Maybe it’s those “snowbirds” who come down every fall and winter from up north bringing their maple syrup…and there aren’t any waffles.

All I can do is keep on pushing through until I’m back where I was before I decided to take a dive into the mud of slothfulness like a suicidal Tongtianlong limosus in China.