THANKFUL FRIDAY

Margaret laid a petite egg

14 Likes, 0 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Margaret laid a petite egg"

When my alarm went off Thursday morning, I turned it off and then rolled back over to sleep. My body was tired and sore and I wasn’t ready to move. Tuesday’s torture class was truly torturous. Wednesday’s yoga class was more challenging than I had anticipated. Then I taught an equally challenging yoga class that evening. So, yeah, by the next day, this body was stiff and sore. I was still feeling bad about myself over Tuesday’s class and how much I struggled. I keep thinking that at some point this class is going to feel less torturous, but Tuesday had a lot of burpees, box hops and jumping jacks followed up with mountain climbers and pushups. My ankle hurt with every jump. My right thumb area of my palm hurt. My nose was running and all the sinus drainage left me with a cough that made it sound like I had a cold. I noticed the other women in the class not struggling as much as I seemed to be and I am easily the largest most unfit one of the bunch. I left class feeling like a big sweaty loser.

I tell my yoga students all the time to ‘stay on your own mat’. That means not paying attention to what others are doing and only focusing on your body. I forgot that this applies to me. I forgot that this goes for off the mat times as well. My ankle and my thumb were hurting not because muscles were working. I have joint pain because I’m not so young any more. The whole sinus issue that is happening when I exercise is not because I am out of shape. It’s actually a thing called exercise-induced rhinitis. Basically, the high intensity aerobic parts of the class are exacerbating my allergy symptoms. I just need to sniff some Flonase before class. Mostly though, I need to stop comparing myself or competing with the others in that class and just focus on doing the best I can in this body.

I need to give myself a break.

So when I woke up with a groan Thursday morning, I made the choice to sleep in, to make breakfast and then get in the shower when Michael was done in the bathroom. This is the opposite of my usual morning routine. Usually I am so attached to the timing of a routine that I don’t allow for any flexibility even at the expensive of my bodily health. The only consequences for my tardiness are the ones I give myself. The choice to rest really only set me back about fifteen minutes any way. I got to work and started my morning chore list without rushing myself or allowing myself to feel behind for the day. I snorted some Flonase and then went to torture class and focused on my own self. I did all of the jump roping and went up to a heavier weight for squats, taking breaks when I needed to take breaks. Then I high-fived myself in the mirror. I left class feeling like a medium sweaty winner.

I am not a house of cards that falls apart at the slightest disruption.

Giving myself breaks is not an excuse to not do the work; I can do both.

I might be allergic to exercise.

ROUTINES

C is for cookie, coffee and Cindy.

6 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "C is for cookie, coffee and Cindy."

I didn't write in my Fortune Cookie journal all summer except maybe once. With Michael home and he and the Cabbage doing daily chores, I didn't have a reason to get up early on Saturdays. They got the grocery shopping done on Fridays. If I got up early on Saturday mornings it was to go to a yoga class. Which, I am not going to lie, was real nice. I'd get up early enough to shove a breakfast bar in my gut and then scooter out to one of my favorite studios. Sometimes I'd have coffee or juice with a yoga friend after class. Sometimes Michael would meet me for brunch someplace and then we'd spend the rest of the day scooting around town. Now that Michael is back in school, we are back to our normal routine where I get up early Saturday morning and do the grocery shopping while everyone still sleeps. 

Trust me when I say that I do not mind spending my Saturday mornings this way. I prefer to do the grocery shopping early and alone. No crowds and I spend less money because I only buy what's on the list. I go to Heirloom and order a breakfast sandwich and a cup of coffee. Then I sit at the counter and take my time sipping coffee and writing in my journal while nibbling on my sandwich. I do a bit of people watching. I do a bit of watching some of the employees roll out dough or measure sugar. I dance a little in my seat to whatever music happens to be playing. Mostly, I write. This is good because I need to be writing somewhere since I don't feel like writing here too much lately. The thing about the Fortune Cookie diary is that it's fiction and a story that I don't have to finish. Even if it turns out to be a total shit story, it is still serving a purpose. The Fortune Cookie diary forces me to use my imagination. It exercises my brain. Photography forces me to see things differently while writing forces me to think things differently. 

I worried when I sat down to write in the journal after spending the summer away that I would struggle. I thought I would just stare blankly at the page and listen the gears in my head clink and screech while trying to turn on rusty pinions. I felt for sure that this was an exercise I would not easily be able to pick back up. So I was surprised to fill up that page and wrap the text around the edges. I was surprised at how easily the story came to me and how I wrote so quickly at times that the words are illegible. It felt good. It felt right. And I know I'm not writing anything spectacular or profound. I am just writing a scene, a moment and I'm trying to really put an effort in describing that scene. Those gears start moving and I almost believe that I truly am a creative kind of person. I think for a moment that I could be an artist.

I think to myself that you can take the girl out of the liberal arts college but you can't take the liberal arts out of the girl.