Yoga and Christmas Parties

I had a great week of training. Sometimes, when I am most busy, I let the training slide as I make this rational decision that the time I use working out will be better served working. It is ALWAYS wrong. So, I had my college finals, my high school finals, and a trip to Ireland to prep for…and usually I would have cut back. This week, however, I trained. Yesterday, Tiff and I went to Bikram Yoga which is something I do about twice a week. I need it. I deserve it.

Sadly, there were a couple of new people there and let’s be clear that I don’t mind new people. Before we started, they came in talking and boasting about their athletic prowess (one guy was a tub of goo and the other guy had a t-shirt from “the site that shall not be named) and the instructor had to shush them. For whatever reason, they had to have their mats near me. So, for an hour and a half, I had to experience their various exhausted sighs and their flopping on the mat to take another position off. About an hour after class, I realized some things about Bikram Yoga that I like: first, you have leave your macho BS at the door. True Yoga seems to be designed to always be harder. There are some elbow compression moves that I keep getting “better” at each session, but to get better means I hurt more and more every time. Compression is underrated in my mind for strength, stability and health. Sadly, it hurts to do it right.

Second, and I might be wrong on this, Yoga isn’t supposed to be competitive. I know there are little contests for Yoga, but I think they miss the point badly. So with my injuries and body forged into a mighty machine of explosive power, there is no way in hell I can do the stuff that the former gymnast and drill team girl can do. There is a chance they can’t pick up a caber, too, so it balances out.

After Yoga, we went as a family to a Christmas Party. It’s things like this that let me realize how interconnected life can become. It was a party at Tiff’s mom’s fourth husband’s second daughter with his second wife. So, as my cousin Jim Allio always says: “Cousins.” What is weird at a party like this is that one of my old neighbors was there, she had married into the family, a former student was there, also friends of the family, and about a dozen people that I knew from all kinds of places. What is odd was that I didn’t know that all these people knew each other. To sum, a quote from “Mystery Men:”

Capt. Amazing: I knew you couldn’t change.
Casanova Frankenstein: I knew you’d know that.
Capt. Amazing: Oh, I know that. AND I knew you’d know I’d know you knew.
Casanova Frankenstein: But I didn’t. I only knew that you’d know that I knew. Did you know THAT?
Capt. Amazing: Of course.

In other words, I am amazed at how connected things are in my life. Like the guy floundering around in Yoga after bragging about his conditioning wearing a t-shirt that claimed my workout is his warm up:

I knew he couldn’t change. Did you know THAT?

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