annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Healthy body...
While I was lying on my yoga mat waiting for the class to start I thought I might write about yoga in more detail, but first can I say that I'm fucked off with having to write in Times New Roman in a tiny font and with having a stupid question at the top of the page - today's being 'Are you more of a night or morning person?' Piss off. Which is not very yoga so we'd better have a new paragraph.
I first did yoga in 1979, with Mum, the dreaded step-mother. I was living back at home, briefly, with baby Sam. Both my parents were always heavily into evening classes and adult education of all kinds so when yoga was on offer mum asked if I'd like to join her and along we both went to the community centre. It was a big room with about forty people, mostly women as I remember, all wearing leotards - like a swimming costume with sleeves and a high neckline - all given a mat to practice on, none of us knowing quite what to expect. The teacher was plump and middle-aged, not the lithe creature you'd imagine, but she was a great teacher, clear instructions repeated as necessary, no hurry, no judgement, alternatives given where required, and she was limber and flexible as fuck. She showed us what to do but her focus was on us and our learning rather than having her own session. She made it clear that yoga is a journey with no destination - you don't start off being 'bad' at it and keep going till you 'can do it'. Moving in the direction required will give you all the benefits. Don't give up because you can't stand with straight legs and put your hands flat on the floor at once. Standing with straight legs and folding forward from the hips is good no matter how far you get.
I loved it at once and have been going on and off ever since - from the age of 55 I've been going at least once a week, usually twice as I live in fear of seizing up. Mum however, came out of that first session absolutely fuming. It had been a two hour class and about thirty minutes from the end we lay down on our mats, under blankets, and the teacher talked us through a yoga nidra, or deep relaxation, then left us in this relaxed state for however long it was - ten, fifteen minutes. How dare she! We'd paid for a two hour class and she wasn't even in the room for the last bit!
I intended to write about yin yoga in particular but maybe tomorrow.
Today was my first really fucking cold, cold water swim. The air temperature was around 5C, apparently 41F and those of us joining the local monthly mental health swim were sent an email with detailed instructions about how to keep safe. Wear lots of layers. Don't let yourself get cold before you get in the water. Don't stay in too long - four or five minutes unless you're really experienced (as your body does acclimatise to some extent). Get dressed double quick once you get out - all clothed and ready for the hot drink you've brought with you within five minutes. I'd have felt quite scared, well I did a bit anyway, if I hadn't been reading about it in this book: Chill: The Cold Water Swim Cure, which made me feel excited and impatient to get in that water. Yes it hurts getting in - it's fucking cold, of course it hurts. But that shock of the cold sends a massive jolt of I'M ALIVE coursing through your whole body and it feels amazing. I love it. I'm going again on Friday when the temp is due to be -3C, 26F and all the people I've met have been saying that's when it's best and I'm inclined to believe them.
Night night, sleep tight.
ps my head survived assault by speaker - just a big tender place
12:19 a.m. - 05.12.22
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